Page 36 of Back to Claim His Italian Heir

‘You’re not going to chicken out, are you?’ he teased softly and laughter gurgled in her throat.

‘No. Definitely not.’ No way was she a chicken, and in truth she was looking forward to this. To all of it. With a flick of her finger she undid the button of his trousers, and then drew down the zip over the impressive, pulsing length of him. A soft groan escaped him as her fingers trailed along his arousal before she pushed his trousers off his hips and he kicked them away, pulling her into his arms to kiss her again, both of them blinded by need.

They half walked, half stumbled, to the bed, limbs entwined, bodies clasped together. Emma didn’t think she could ever get enough of him, the feel of him against her, the sense of being both desired and cherished, possessed and protected.

Her head hit the pillow as Nico braced himself on top of her, giving her one blazing look of possession before he bent his head to her breasts. Emma’s eyes fluttered closed as he slowly kissed his way down her body, taking his time, enjoying every moment, his hands following the fiery trail of his lips, laughing softly against her skin as a moan escaped her and she arched upwards, silently begging for more, which he gave—and gave.

She didn’t think she’d ever get enough, she thought dazedly as she fisted her hands in the dark crispness of his hair and his lips trailed from her navel to even lower as he spread her thighs with his hands and tasted her deeply, making her arch and moan and cry out because it was all so intense, and intimate, and also somehow new. She’d never felt this way before, not even with Nico, and she didn’t think anyone else could ever make her feel as much again.

‘Nico...’ she managed in a half-sob, desperate for release, and he raised his head to brace himself above her as, in one smooth stroke, he entered her at last.

At last.Nico pressed his forehead to Emma’s as he buried himself deep inside her, revelling in the velvety squeeze of her body as she enveloped him, wrapping her legs around his waist to draw him even deeper, so they were completely united, husband and wife—one union, one flesh. He’d never felt this way before—not with any other woman, not even with Emma. This, he realised dazedly, was new.

‘Nico...’she said again, a promise, a plea, as she wrapped her arms around him, his whole body pressed to her as if they could fuse their flesh even more together and he began to move, long, assured strokes, each one stoking the flames of his desire higher and brighter, bringing him even closer to her, if such a thing were possible.

Emma met him thrust for thrust, pushing upwards and then drawing him in—higher, faster, hotter, brighter, until, at last, she cried out, convulsing around him as he spent himself, their bodies emptied and yet replete. Nico closed his eyes, overwhelmed not just by the pleasure, intense as it had been, but by the intimacy. What had happened had been profound in a way he could not articulate yet, not even to himself.

He thought—hehoped—Emma might feel the same for she didn’t speak, no irrepressible laugh or insouciant smile this time. She just put her arms even more tightly around him and pressed her face into his shoulder as the last ripples of their shared climax shuddered through them.

Eventually, Nico didn’t know after how long, he rolled over onto his back and Emma snuggled into him, her breathing slowing so he almost wondered if she was asleep. He slid his hand down her body and she let out a little sigh of contentment. Not asleep, then. Just sated, as he was.

As his palm skimmed her navel, he registered what he hadn’t before, in the throes of their lovemaking—the slight swell of her pregnancy.Their baby.A thrill ran through him and he kept his hand there, spreading his fingers wide across the bump.

A little bubble of laughter escaped her. ‘Is it strange?’ she asked, and with his other arm he nestled her more closely against him.

‘It’s wonderful.’

‘Are you...?’ She paused, as if choosing her words with care. ‘Are you nervous about being a father?’

He considered the question, sensing the hesitation behind it. ‘No more than any man, I hope,’ he said at last. ‘What about you? Are you nervous about being a mother?’

‘Yes, kind of.’ Her voice sounded small, and he squeezed her shoulders gently in silent reassurance. ‘As I told you, I never knew my own mother,’ she continued quietly. ‘And I didn’t really have many examples of good mothers. There was one foster mother...’ She stopped, and Nico glanced down at her.

‘One?’ he prompted gently.

‘She was kind,’ Emma allowed. ‘But...it didn’t last.’ He sensed there was more to the story, but she clearly didn’t want to share it now. ‘I just hope I’ll know what to do. How to be.’

‘We’ve both had parents who disappointed or failed us,’ Nico told her after a moment, feeling his way through the words. ‘But that doesn’t have to define us. We can see it as opportunity—opportunity to be the kind of mother or father we never had. A chance to do it better than before, to get it right.’

She was silent for a long moment, weighing his words. ‘But what if I can’t get it right?’ she asked at last, and the fear in her voice made him ache.

‘The fact that you’re even asking that question tells me you’ll try your hardest,’ he told her, ‘and so will I. And, at the end of the day, that’s all either of us can do.’

A little bubble of laughter escaped her. ‘You’re very wise, you know,’ she told him as she tilted her face up to his. ‘Don’t let that make you any more arrogant than you are, though.’

‘I’ll try,’ Nico promised, and there was laughter in his voice, too. ‘Although I am compiling quite a list—rich, powerful, attractive as all get-out, and now wise...’

She punched his shoulder, laughing. ‘All right, smarty-pants—’

‘Is there anything else you want to add to that list?’ Nico asked as he flipped her onto her back and pressed his lips to her throat before moving tantalisingly lower. Emma’s eyes fluttered closed as her body became loose-limbed and pliant beneath his touch. He could spend hours exploring every inch of her, he thought as he kissed his way down towards her navel. Days... ‘Fantastic lover, perhaps?’ he murmured against her skin, and inched lower.

A breathy moan escaped her as her hands raked through his hair, anchoring him to her. ‘I think you know that one already,’ she managed unsteadily, and then neither of them spoke for a long time.

CHAPTER TWELVE

EMMATILTEDHERhead up to the warm, benevolent sunshine, closing her eyes in pleasure even as her heart fluttered with anticipatory nerves. They’d been cruising up the coast in Nico’s private yacht for the last three wonderfully relaxing days, and would be arriving in Civitavecchia that afternoon before heading to his flat in Rome—and real life.

They’d spent the last four weeks on his island, and Emma was reluctant to leave its comfort and safety and face the rest of the world—Nico’s family included. No, she acknowledged as she opened her eyes and squinted up at the sun, she wasn’t justreluctant. She was pretty much terrified. She’d complained that Nico hadn’t introduced her to his friends before, but now that he was, she realised she didn’t relish the prospect of meeting them, or any of the other guests at the charity gala she and Nico would be attending tomorrow night.