Carrying The Spaniard's Child. Jennie Lucas
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hot and wet.
Holding her hips, he worked her with his tongue until she gripped the blanket beneath her, holding her breath until she started to see stars. He licked her softly one moment, then the next plunged his tongue inside her. She heard a voice cry out, and realized the voice was hers.
He swirled his tongue against her, increasing his rhythm and pressure until her back started arching from the bed. He pushed a single thick finger inside her, then two, stretching her wide. She gasped as the pleasure built almost too high to bear. Higher—higher—then—
Soaring to the sky, she exploded into a million pieces, falling to the earth in gently chiming shards. It was like nothing she’d ever experienced. It was pure joy.
Lifting up from her, he ripped off the last of his clothes. Positioning himself between her legs, he gripped her naked hips. As she was still gasping with pleasure, he pushed his huge, thick shaft inside her.
* * *
He’d dreamed of this.
For four months, Santiago had dreamed of seducing the sinfully beautiful woman who’d made it such a point to scorn him. He’d dreamed of having her deliciously full curves in his arms, her body naked beneath his. He’d dreamed of kissing her full pink lips and seeing her lovely face darken with ecstasy. He’d dreamed of taking her, filling her, satiating himself with her.
But now, as he finally pushed inside her, he felt a barrier he had not expected. He froze. He’d never once dreamed of this.
“You’re a virgin?” he breathed in shock.
Slowly, she opened her eyes. “Not anymore.”
He set his jaw. “Did I hurt you?”
“No,” she said in a small voice.
Something in her expression made him tremble. Something in her voice spoke directly to his soul. He felt a strange emotion in his heart: tenderness. He bit out, “You’re lying.”
“Yes.” Her soft, slender arms reached up around his shoulders and pulled him down, down, down against her, tempting him to his own ecstasy and ruin. “But don’t stop,” she whispered. “Please, Santiago...”
Hearing his name on her lips, he sucked in his breath. How could even a romantic, idealistic woman like Belle Langtry be an untouched innocent, in this modern world? A virgin. Santiago was the only man who’d ever touched her, this infuriating, exhilarating, magnificent woman.
His soul felt the danger of getting close to any woman so innocent and bright. It made him want to flee.
But his body, held still deep inside her, felt the opposite as he looked down at her beautiful face, glowing with wanton desire. He shuddered. Ravaging hunger built inside him, thrilling his nerves, coursing down his limbs and centering at his hard core barreled deep inside her.
He lowered his head to hers. His kiss was gentle at first, then deepened, turning to pure light. His hands roamed slowly down her naked body, cupping and caressing her breasts.
She had the most perfect body, curvy and ripe. Any man would die to have a fiery goddess like this in his bed. And that this goddess was also a virgin...
He shuddered a little, and without realizing it, pushed deeper inside her. The soft whisper of a moan escaped her as he lowered his lips to suckle her breasts. Her breath changed to a gasp of ecstasy.
Gripping her hips, he very slowly started to ride her, even as he kissed her lips and caressed her breasts. He sucked her earlobe and slowly licked and nibbled down her neck. He felt her body lift beneath his as new pleasure rose in her, and she began to kiss him back hungrily.
He started to lose the last shreds of his self-control. She was wet, so wet, and somehow her tight sheath accepted all of him. His thrusts became deeper as he wondered if the size of him would be too much for her. But it wasn’t. He felt her tighten around him, gripping her fingernails into his shoulders. But that small pain only added to his building pleasure. When he heard her low gasp rise to a scream of joy he could no longer hold back. His eyes closed in pure ecstasy, his head tossing back as he filled her deeply, until his own roar exploded in the deep dark silence of the bedroom. Flying in a whirlwind, he experienced pure sexual joy such as he’d never known before as he spilled himself into her.
He fell back to the bed against her, eyes closed, cradling her body against his own. For ten seconds, as he held her, he felt a deep peace, a sense of home, sweeter than he’d ever known.
Then his eyes flew open. He was filled with regret so great it tasted like ash in his mouth.
“You were right,” Belle sighed, a hopeful smile on her lovely heart-shaped face. “I feel recklessly alive. That was like nothing I ever dreamed. Pure magic.” She pressed back against his naked chest, pulling his arms more tightly around her, as she said dreamily, “Deep down, maybe you’re not all bad. I might even like you a little.”
Santiago looked down at her grimly in the moonlight from the bedroom window. He’d just known ecstasy that he’d never experienced before.
With a virgin.
A romantic.
Sleeping with Belle had done strange things to him. His body had never known such deep pleasure. And his soul...
She yawned. “I just hope no one heard us.”
“They didn’t,” he said harshly. “Letty and Darius are in the other wing, and this house is made of stone.” Stone like his heart, he reminded himself.
“Good. I’d never live it down if Letty knew, after everything I’ve said about you.”
“What did you say to her?”
“I said you were a selfish bastard without a heart.”
His shoulders tightened. “I’m not offended. It’s true.”
“You’re funny.” She looked up at him sleepily. “You know, no matter what you think, love and marriage aren’t always a prison sentence. Look at Letty and Darius.”
“They look happy,” he said grudgingly, then added, “Looks can be deceiving.”
Her forehead furrowed. “Don’t you believe in anyone? Anything?”
“I believe in myself.”
“You’re a terrible cynic.”
“I see the world as it is, rather than as I wish it could be.” Eternal love? A happy family? At thirty-five, Santiago had seen enough of the world to know those kind of miracles were few and far between. Tragedy was the normal state of the world. “Do you already regret sleeping with me?”
Shaking her head, she smiled up at him, looking kittenish and shy and so damned beautiful that his heart caught in his throat. “You feel so good to me. I’m glad you’re here.” She yawned, closing her eyes, cuddling against him. “I couldn’t bear to be alone tonight. You saved me...”
Pressing against his chest, she fell asleep in seconds.
Santiago yearned to sleep, as well. His body wanted to stay like this, with her, cuddled in this warm bed, taking solace in each other against the cold January night and all the other cold nights to come.
Warning lights were flashing everywhere.
He looked down at her, sweetly sleeping in his arms, so soft and beautiful, so opinionated and dreamy and kind. So optimistic.
You saved me.
Santiago felt bone-weary. Carefully, he disentangled himself from her. Rising from the bed, he walked naked to his coat crumpled on the floor. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he dialed the number of his pilot.
The man struggled not to sound groggy. It was eleven o’clock on a cold winter’s night. “Sir?”
“Come get me,” he replied. “I’m at Fairholme.”
Without