The Spaniard's Pleasurable Vengeance. Lucy Monroe
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She met his gaze earnestly. “I’m not, you know.”
“Not?”
“Easy. I don’t do one-night stands.”
“Good, but fair warning—I have no intention of stopping at one night with you.”
He wasn’t offering anything long-term. How could he? He lived in Spain. She lived in Portland. He was a powerful billionaire. A social worker turned shelter manager had no place in his glittery life, but for now? She did.
She fit in this ridiculously expensive bed he’d bought for the night.
Her body fit under his. Her lips fit perfectly against his.
His mouth owned hers and she let it. Knowing this was temporary, but not a single night, gave her the confidence to let go in a way she had not before, and probably wouldn’t again, with anyone else.
She responded to his kiss, parting her lips, inviting his tongue inside, letting hers explore his mouth, shivering with feeling as the kiss morphed into something crazy passionate. Her body melted into the bed under him, accommodating his hard planes with every cell.
He lifted up enough to pull her toward him so he could remove that last piece of clothing she was wearing, her bra.
When he let her settle back against the pillows, Randi reached down between them and grasped his erection, the heated, satiny skin warming her palm.
He thrust up into her fist. “Sí! Que es tan bueno.”
It was good. All of it. Randi loved knowing she could elicit such a pleasurable response, that her touch impacted him as surely as his touch made Randi lose her mind.
“I want this inside me.” She squeezed the hard column of flesh once...twice, again.
Baz let out a guttural sound that sent response arcing through Randi. He reared back but didn’t pull his sex from her hand, though she got the sense that was his initial intent. “Let me get a condom.”
“You just carry them around with you?”
“I do, in fact, always have one in my wallet.” He shrugged. “I am a man.”
“We’re going to need more.” No way was a single time going to be enough tonight. Not for such a sexually ardent lover.
“I’ll take care of that later.” His smile was all predatory male.
RANDI NODDED, HER words lost for a moment in the pleasure of their bodies together.
Long moments passed in another incendiary kiss, his sex pressing into her hand, her own aching with the need to be filled. When he finally broke the kiss to get up, she made a mewing sound she’d never heard out of her own throat before.
He stood with quick, efficient movements, and moved to the chair on which his trousers lay with a few long, rapid strides. Seconds later he was back beside her, the condom packet in his hand. “Do you want to put it on me?”
In answer, Randi eagerly reached for the foil square. Baz dropped it into her hand and she tore it open, pulling out the small bit of latex. She pressed the circle of latex against the head of his penis, thrilling to the moment of anticipation this particular act elicited. She rolled it down his length, an intentional caress with more enjoyment than experience, hoping to make the act erotic for both of them.
He didn’t seem to mind her fumbling attempts at covering him. He was, in fact, moaning and staring at her with clear sexual approval.
Once she got the condom on, he pushed her onto her back, but instead of immediately moving between her thighs, as she expected, he reached down to touch her, his fingers deftly caressing her slick folds.
“Oh, goodness! This is...that is...” Exactly what she needed, making her incoherent with sensation, senseless words of pleasure tumbling from her lips.
He seemed to have no problem deciphering her babbling, touching exactly where she needed. Sliding his fingers over her clitoris, gently circling, pushing gently at intervals, he caressed her with just the right pressure before slipping one, then two inside her, preparing her for what was to come.
She could no more stop her body surging toward his touch than reach out with her own hands, seeking the lodestone of his body. Anything to help her maintain sanity in this maelstrom of emotion and sensation, where by rights no emotion should be.
They did not know each other. It should be pure physicality, but her heart was beating a strange, desperate tattoo of feeling she had no desire to acknowledge.
Baz crooked his fingers inside her and pressed upward. Jolts of intense ecstasy radiated out from that heretofore unexplored cluster of nerves inside her. She’d heard about the G-spot, but thought it was a myth. Oh, glorious elation, it wasn’t!
Rapture spiraled inside Randi, drawing her body tight with impending orgasm, but Baz was careful not to take her over the edge.
Darn it!
She tried to move her body, to take herself over that precipice. “Please, Baz. Please!”
“You will come with me inside you,” he proclaimed, even as he finally shifted between her legs to press his engorged sex against the slick and swollen opening to her body.
“I’ve never come from that,” she warned him, though just the feeling of him so close to penetrating her was setting off all sorts of fireworks inside her. Not that she had loads of experiences to go by anyway, but neither time had made her believe she was one of those women who could.
“Let us see what we can do about that.” Challenge gleamed in his espresso-brown eyes.
A shiver of anticipation—or was that trepidation?—rolled through her. “Just do me,” she implored, not caring if she climaxed in that moment.
She was empty. She needed to be filled and Baz Perez with his big, hard sex would succeed where she knew others had failed. Giving her pleasure and a sense of completion, even if she didn’t actually come from it.
But Baz, she learned quickly, did not dismiss a challenge. He attacked it with skill, patience and purpose.
He made love to her as no other guy had done, driving the pleasure inside her body higher and higher with each expert thrust, every swivel of his hips that managed to stimulate her clitoris in ways she’d thought impossible during copulation. Finally, he reached down and brushed over that swollen nub with his thumb, at first pressing in and then circling, then pressing in again, then circling, and Randi lost what sense she’d maintained.
The euphoria building inside her detonated, the roman candle of ecstasy exploding with a shower of sparks throughout her body. Her womb contracted, her muscles convulsed and her heart nearly seized from the glorious power of it. She cried out as her vaginal walls tightened around his hard sex in spasms of pure bliss.
“That’s right,” he praised, his body taut with unfulfilled desire. “You are so beautiful in your excitement.”
The words registered only peripherally as her body shuddered with a surfeit of pleasure. “Baz...”
She couldn’t say anything more than his name, couldn’t form a coherent thought, could only arch against him, prolonging the overwhelming sensation. He resumed movement, his lunges growing more powerful with each surge forward of his pelvis, strong thrusts inside her causing aftershocks of ecstasy nearly as intense as her initial orgasm.
“Sí, hermosa, sí! You are so perfect inside. Tight, hot, wet.”
Oh, man, did men really talk like that in bed?
“You hold me like a warm, slick fist.”
Clearly, they did.
And those words intensified the residual waves