Page 56 of Seduced by Her Billionaire Fake Fiancé

But Max remembered, and a moment later, when he brought his body over hers, his face level with Andie’s, his knee separated her legs and his tip hitched at her entrance, she held her breath, feeling almost as if this was her first time. Because it was different now. They weren’t fighting. This wasn’t an expression of passion run amok.

This was something else.

Something indefinable and ancient, something that could almost have been the creation of the magic that still lay dormant within the monastery walls, just waiting for expression.

He didn’t thrust into her this time. Instead, he sunk in, slowly, gently, watching her as he went, the sensations all completely different as she was given time to slowly, slowly welcome him, her muscles stretching differently now as he moved within her, watching her, seeing her reactions, seeing everything about her.

Andie’s body was alight. Not in an explosion but with a slow burn, starting low in her belly and spreading through all of her nerve fibers, so she was moaning softly into the room. His every touch stoked the fires, and then all of a sudden, it was too much, the intensity overwhelming her as he moved once more, and she tipped over the edge. Her hands paused, midway down his chest, where his muscles were corded by the efforts of his movement, and she held on as if for dear life, lifting her hips and succumbing to the overwhelming experience.

Max watched her, steady, still, his eyes on her face the whole time and then, when she had slowly drifted back to earth, he changed pace, moving faster now, his kisses on her body more urgent, and Andie heard his name wrenched from her as pleasure built again until he released them both from that torture chamber. Simultaneously, they came, his mouth seeking hers in that wild, passionate moment, tasting her cries, kissing his own into her.

Afterwards, he collapsed on top of her, his weight heavenly against her body, his naked body against hers an intimacy she could get high on.

“That,” he said, later, rolling to his side and propping onto one elbow, “should have been your first time.”

She turned her face towards him, still barely able to breathe, much less speak. “That was…amazing,” she agreed, frustrated by the insufficiency of the word, but it was all she could strive for in that moment. “But Max, you keep acting as if something was so wrong with our first time. Why? I told you, I liked it. I enjoyed it, and I think you did too. Isn’t that all that matters?”

He scowled. “If I had known…”

“If you had known, it never would have happened.”

A muscle throbbed in his jaw. “I’d like to agree with that, but honestly, Andie, I think this happening has been inevitable since our first meeting.”

Her lips parted in surprise. “Why do you say that?”

His laugh was a low rumble. “You are so delightfully naïve sometimes.”

Her cheeks flushed and she blinked away but Max caught her chin, tilted her face back to his. “There is a spark between us,” he said carefully. “I felt it the moment you walked into my office. In my experience, sparks like this tend to cause explosions.”

“So why did you agree to the whole fake engagement thing?” She asked, thinking back to that first meeting, and the way her knees had been unsteady and her eyes had held to his for a little longer than usual. She’d put it down to nervousness at the time, whilst simultaneously acknowledging that he was deliciously attractive.

“You were offering me Acto on a platter.”

“Half of Acto,” she corrected quickly. “And a way to ruin the Santoro family’s plans.”

“It was an offer too good to refuse.”

“Even knowing that this could get complicated?”

He paused to consider that. “Complications are a part of life.”

She nodded, though inside, something was shifting, and she wasn’t sure she agreed with him. Not about the complications in life, but about this. Something was making her uneasy, but Andie didn’t want to think about it now. Not when her body was still floating on a wave of euphoria courtesy of the spark Max had described. Andie closed her eyes on a sigh and fell back against the pillow, allowing herself the pleasure of simply enjoying this moment and not thinking about the future, the past, nor their inevitable parting.

* * *

“Andie, come here a moment.”

Andie, walking through the wide tiled corridor of the villa, stopped at Patrizia’s entreaty. When she turned, she saw Emilia standing outside the door, Patrizia’s head just poking through.

Her stomach in loops, she turned and made her way back to them. “Everything okay?”

“Yes, yes,” Patrizia assured her, as Emilia reached for her arm and linked hers through it, guiding Andie into a sitting room she hadn’t yet seen. No surprises there: the house was huge, and Andie’s exploration had been non-existent.

“I want to show you something before you leave,” Patrizia said.

The sitting room was very comfortable, with a large ornate rug covering the tiled floor, soft-looking sofas in a musky pink colour, and light timber tables with pretty side lamps, which at night, she imagined, would cast a beautiful glow.

Placed on one of the sofas was a suitcase.

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