Ruthless Russian, Lost Innocence - Shaw Chantelle (читаем книги онлайн бесплатно полностью TXT) 📗
His rough laughter grazed her skin. ‘It’s too late to be shy now, angel face. I knew the moment we met that you would be a wildcat in bed,’ he added in a satisfied tone. It was the truth, Vadim mused as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and headed for the en suite bathroom. That night in Paris he had been shocked by his powerful attraction to Ella, and by the instinctive feeling that they were destined to be lovers. But the idea that she was his woman and his alone was a dangerous one.
He did not want a relationship with her, he reminded himself. Undoubtedly his desire for her would soon pall, and then he would walk away from her-just as he had done with his many previous mistresses. There was no place in his heart for Ella, only in his bed, and the fact that her soft grey eyes and shy smile tugged at his insides was all the more reason to remember the vow he had made after Irina had died, that he would never allow any woman to touch his emotions again.
When Vadim emerged from the bathroom Ella assumed he would rejoin her in bed, but to her disappointment he crossed to the wardrobe, took out jeans and a shirt and proceeded to dress. ‘I have to work for a couple of hours,’ he explained when he caught her confused expression. ‘Why don’t you catch up on some sleep? I’ll be up later.’
His sensual smile made her heart leap, but she sensed that he had distanced himself from her-or perhaps she had imagined the feeling of closeness between them when he had made love to her? she thought bleakly. What had happened between his walking into the bathroom and returning to the bedroom that had caused him to close up, so that he was once again a brooding stranger? She wished she knew what was going on behind his brilliant blue gaze, but his face was a handsome mask, giving no clue to his thoughts.
Vadim could not have made it clearer that he saw her as his mistress and nothing more. Pride dictated that she should go back to her own flat rather than meekly wait until he wanted to have sex with her again, but he had kept her awake for much of the previous night, and his energetic lovemaking of a few minutes ago had left her exhausted. Her eyelids felt heavy, and within moments she fell into such a deep sleep that she was unaware that Vadim returned to the bedroom less than an hour later and stood by the bed, watching her sleep.
Ella was awoken in the early hours of Saturday morning by Vadim stroking his hands down her body and gently parting her thighs. Any thoughts she might have had of resisting him crumbled, as they had all week, when she saw the sultry gleam in his eyes, and with a sigh she arched her hips to welcome him into her and gave herself up to the exquisite pleasure of his lovemaking.
They spent most of the weekend in bed, or down by the river, where he made love to her beneath the weeping willow tree whose fragile branches and delicate green leaves provided a private bower. She ached in places she had not known existed, Ella thought ruefully when she woke early on Monday morning and watched the rose-pink glow of dawn spread across the sky. Later today she was flying to Paris to prepare for her solo concert, and she assured herself that the heavy feeling in her stomach was due to nerves about her performance-not because she would be away from Vadim for the next week.
Her planned programme contained several exceptionally complex pieces, particularly the compositions by Paganini, and although she had received intensive coaching from the famous Hungarian violinist Joseph Schranz, she still did not feel confident about the performance. Sleep was impossible when her mind kept running through the pieces, and although it was not yet five a.m. she was desperate to practise. She threw back the sheet, collected her violin from where-much to Vadim’s amusement-she kept it beside the bed, and slipped out onto the balcony, closing the door carefully behind her so that she would not disturb him. The morning air was cool and fresh, and the feel of the smooth wood of her violin beneath her fingertips filled Ella with fierce joy. Music meant everything to her, and she was soon lost in her own world, so that when the balcony doors opened she stared at Vadim in confusion.
‘Do have any idea what the time is?’ he queried mildly, aware of the familiar pull of desire in his groin as he took in her slender figure in the grey silk robe he had bought her because the colour had reminded him of the smoky hue of her eyes. Her pale gold hair streamed around her shoulders, and he could not resist reaching out and winding a long, silky strand around his fingers.
‘Um…early,’ she mumbled guiltily. ‘I’m sorry I woke you, but the taxi’s picking me up at eight to take me to the airport, and I wanted to run through the Paganini compositions one more time.’
His lips twitched. ‘I suppose your artistic temperament is to blame for the fact that you’ve woken before dawn the last couple of days?’ He’d felt her increased tension, and had watched her appetite fade to the point that she’d barely eaten a thing at dinner last night. ‘Are you always this nervous before a performance?’
‘I’m afraid so,’ Ella admitted unhappily, embarrassed colour staining her cheeks. She hated the agonising stage fright that gripped her, and had tried various remedies, including hypnotherapy, to try and control it, but she still felt ill with nerves before she gave a solo performance.
‘There’s no need,’ he said gently, surprised by the surge of protectiveness he felt for her. ‘You have a phenomenal talent and you play superbly. And if you’re leaving at eight, you need to come back to bed now,’ he added deeply, drawing her against him and slipping his hand inside her robe to cup her breast in his palm.
‘I should get dressed,’ Ella murmured, catching her breath when he tugged on her nipple until it swelled and hardened. But he ignored her token protest and scooped her into his arms, capturing her mouth in a hard, hungry kiss as he deposited her on the bed and parted her robe before he positioned himself over her. As he slipped his hand between her legs and gently parted her, his eyes locked with hers, and somehow his intense gaze heightened the intimacy of his caresses, so that she gasped and arched her hips in mute appeal for him to continue his erotic exploration.
‘Please…’ She clutched his shoulders to urge him down on her, and sighed her pleasure when he entered her with one deep thrust that filled her to the hilt. Nothing mattered but this. Music, her nervousness about the concert in Paris -everything faded as she surrendered totally to Vadim’s mastery.
He was a skilled lover, who knew exactly how to drive her to the edge of ecstasy and keep her teetering there until she begged for the release her body craved while he remained in complete control. But this morning she sensed a difference in him, a new urgency in each powerful thrust as he took her with an almost primitive passion that sent them both swiftly to the heights. Ella could feel the delicious little spasms begin deep within her, and she wrapped her legs around his back to incite him to thrust harder, deeper…
‘Vadim…’ She could not hold back her desperate plea as the spasms became powerful ripples that radiated out from her central core and engulfed her in mind-blowing pleasure. Frantically she dug her nails into his sweat-sheened shoulders, and felt a surge of feminine triumph when he gave a harsh groan and exploded within her in a shattering climax that left his big body shuddering with after-shocks.
It was ridiculous to feel as though their souls as well as their bodies had joined as one, she told herself when he lay lax on top of her, so that she could feel the thud of his heart gradually return to its normal beat. It was just good sex. But when at last he rolled off her she longed for him to hold her in his arms, and the ache in her heart when he slid out of bed and strolled into the en suite bathroom served as a warning sign that she was getting in too deep.
