Read Online The Unwanted Wife by Natasha Anders - Free Book Online

Theresa tried her best not to cower beneath his brooding regard. He then surprised her even further by dropping to his haunches in front of her, placing his hands on the arms of her chair and trapping her in her seat.
    “I may not know these things you asked of me, Theresa,” his sexy accent thickened as his voice dropped a few notches. “But I do know you …” She shook her head mutely; disconcerted by both his proximity and his direct stare. He was definitely not avoiding her eyes this time, his gaze just a frank and unflinching regard. She felt like a deer trapped in the headlights and she wanted to look away, she wanted to escape but she could barely breathe, much less avert her gaze.
    He raised one hand and Theresa braced herself for his unwanted touch, desperate not to flinch. In the end, she still jumped slightly when his fingertips brushed across her lips.
    “I know what makes you tremble with desire,” his voice had lowered even further, nothing more than a seductive rumble now and Lisa’s lips parted slightly. “I know where to touch, where to kiss, where to suck… I know how to make you moan, scream and cry out in ecstasy.
    “That’s just sex,” she finally found her voice but hardly sounded convincing. He merely smiled, lifting his other hand until he had her face framed with his thumbs stroking across her cheekbones and his fingertips burrowing into the soft hair at her temples.
    “It doesn’t solve anything,” she continued to protest, with the same lack of conviction as before.
    “Maybe not,” he shrugged without concern. “But it feels fantastic…”
    “But we don’t do it right,” she murmured, thinking about the fact that he’d never kissed her, not on the lips, not once… his fingers stilled and she realised, rather belatedly, that he may have misconstrued her comment, which was fine with her, if it meant that he would stop this blatant seduction of her senses.
    “What do you mean?” She could tell how much it cost him to keep the affronted heat out of his voice.
    “I always thought that one day I would make love with my husband,” she confessed on a whisper. “But we don’t do that, do we? We have sex… we…” she used a word that she had never in her life uttered before and Sandro flinched slightly in response to it, the soothing stroke of his fingertips stopped abruptly.
    “Don’t use language like that,” he growled. “It doesn’t suit you!”
    “Well, it’s what you once called it,” she defended herself hotly.
    “I would never …”
    “You did …” she interrupted what she knew would be a denial. “On our wedding night, after the first time…. I tried to… to…” she blushed as she remembered her naivety back then. She had reached over to snuggle with him and he had moved all the way to the edge of the bed in an effort to get away from her. “Well, anyway, you told me not to mistake what we did with any act of love. That it was much more basic than that. Just sex, you said, just… well… you know…”
    His hands had dropped from her face to her shoulders and his eyes narrowed on her painfully humiliated face. His grip tightened on her shoulders and she squirmed slightly before it let up and he kneaded her shoulders slightly.
    “Theresa, I was pretty hammered on our wedding night,” she nodded her eyes bright with tears as she remembered how long he had made her wait for him. Her innocent, eager anticipation had been dashed when the dignified, distant husband who had left her all alone in their hotel suite had returned three hours later, so drunk that he could barely hold himself upright. He had fallen onto the bed and immediately passed out, leaving Theresa shattered. Two hours later, his skilful hands on her body had brought her out of a restless doze and he had strummed at and played with her body like it was a finely-tuned musical instrument, making her a willing slave to his every command.
    Such had been her response that it had barely