The Gold Collection: Taming The Argentinian: A Taste of the Untamed / The Untamed Argentinian / Taming the Last Acosta. Susan Stephens
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got all night, Grace.’
‘And this could take hours, I hope?’
He felt her smile against his mouth. ‘At least …’
Happy with his answer, she laughed, and his hunger spiked higher, driving back the ghosts from the past.
She had dreamed of this moment since she first saw Nacho, but never in her wildest dreams had she imagined they would ever be together like this, or that she could have the freedom of his body as he had hers. Nacho had aroused her beyond the point of reason just with his touch, and with the outrageous suggestions he was murmuring in her ear. He was the master of all things sensual, and he had made her want him with a hunger so fierce it frightened her.
‘Enough,’ she complained. ‘Stop teasing me.’ She writhed impatiently beneath him. ‘Please don’t make me wait.’
But Nacho refused to be hurried, and was content to leave her to imagine what might happen next.
‘Please don’t do this,’ she begged in a shaking voice.
His answer was to tease her with his torso, brushing his warm body against her until her nipples were on fire and she was arcing against him, shamelessly seeking contact. When he finally dipped his head to suckle her nipples through the fine fabric of her blouse she uttered a cry of sheer relief. But it wasn’t enough. The pulse between her legs was growing ever more demanding. Every time she inhaled she drew in more of Nacho’s intoxicating scent, and the thought of all his power, so effortlessly controlled and so completely at her disposal, was more aphrodisiac than she could handle.
He had to curb Grace or it would all be over for her too soon. He had never anticipated this level of hunger, and wondered if he had ever seen anyone so aroused so quickly or so fiercely. Grace was like a lioness fighting for her mate, and it took all his skill to stroke and soothe and make her hold back. When she was quiet again he kissed her tenderly, but even then she couldn’t stay still for long. Holding both her wrists, he pinned her on the bank of pillows. He was going to make this good for her. He was going to make this perfect.
He could never have anticipated that the solution to holding Grace back would come from Grace herself.
‘I want to explore you,’ she said.
He released her and, resting back on one elbow, stared down, wondering if this was another test Grace had decided she must put herself through. Closing his eyes, he traced the line of her full lips with his thumb pad as a reminder that Grace saw the world through touch now.
‘Lie back,’ she whispered.
This was the first time he had ever taken instruction in bed, but for Grace he would do pretty much anything right now.
She didn’t just learn through touch he discovered, closing his eyes. Everything a sighted person could communicate with a glance Grace delivered with her hands. They were extraordinarily sensitive. They were such tiny hands, but so cool and strong. They had been as expressive as her eyes on the day they’d first met. He’d learned as much about himself as he’d learned about Grace in those few minutes.
‘Stay still,’ she told him.
Great though it was, this was a complete role reversal for him. No wonder it took some getting used to.
Having mapped his chest, she moved on to explore the muscles of his arm and then his hands and fingers. It was the most sensuous experience he’d ever had. When she moved down the bed he held his breath as she stroked his legs. He needn’t have worried. She stopped her investigations a prudent distance up his thighs. But apart from that she was a revelation. Some instinct seemed to inform her where he felt the most pleasure and how she must touch him to increase that pleasure. She could tease and soothe in ways he had never imagined—ways that sent his senses soaring to a point where it was he who was in danger of losing control. Something that had never happened in his life before.
‘You’re not supposed to do that,’ he murmured, dragging her back into his arms.
‘Not supposed to do what?’ she said. He kissed her, soothing her again. ‘Grace?’ he murmured seeing something was wrong.
‘Did I do something wrong?’ she asked in a small voice.
He laughed softly against her mouth. ‘You did nothing wrong. You did everything right—which is why we need to pause.’ There were tears in her eyes, he noticed. ‘What haven’t you told me, Grace?’
‘It’s the way you make me feel,’ she said, biting her lip. ‘It frightens me.’ Mashing her lips together, she gave him that determined look of hers. ‘And I’m crying because you kiss so damn well.’
He laughed. ‘Then I’d better kiss you again,’ he said.
When Nacho released her she realised how close she’d come to telling him how she really felt about him—that she wasn’t even sure she could survive the strength of her feelings for him. But she had to be realistic. After devoting his life to his siblings, how could she burden Nacho with a blind woman? It was selfish of her even to think that way. She should save those wild emotions and channel them into something with a future attached—like her career.
She had promised everyone who had helped her that she would live her life to the full. Had that been just an empty pledge?
‘Grace?’ Nacho prompted, cupping her chin so he could stare into her face. ‘What is it?’
‘Nothing,’ she lied, burrowing her face in his chest. ‘I’m just trying to get something straight in my head.’
‘And have you?’
Lifting her chin, she wished that she could see Nacho—so she could read him, so she could know him completely.
Feeling overwhelmed him when Grace reached for him. He was filled with a fierce determination to keep her safe and bring her pleasure.
Could those two things exist side by side?
‘You taste of fruit,’ she said, smiling as she kissed his shoulder. ‘Kiss me,’ she demanded fiercely, moving beneath him.
Grace’s strength was what attracted him, he realised, that and her matchless femininity. Her face was radiant and her hair was tumbling around her shoulders in a billowing cloud. Moving it out of the way, he kissed her neck, before moving down the bed to rasp his stubble very lightly against the soft swell of her belly. Feeling her tremble, he kissed her again and she groaned, arching her hips as she searched for relief for the ache inside her. She tasted better than he remembered. She tasted of warmth and of woman and of Grace—unique and strong. Stripping her skirt off, he tossed it away. Her top followed. Now there was just a tiny lace thong between them. But he attended to her breasts first, suckling and relishing the taste of Grace and grape juice combined. When he lifted his head she allowed her thighs to part, as if she wanted him to see her arousal.
‘How long must I wait?’ she demanded, groaning in complaint.
‘As long as I decide you must wait,’ he said, enjoying the pleasure-pain as her fingers bit into his arms.
But she hadn’t finished with him yet, and with an angry sound of frustration went straight for the button on his jeans. They were soon off, but he pinned her to the bed as she panted beneath him.
He had always thought sex should be fun, but this was the first time he had encountered a woman who could remotely match his appetite. ‘Okay,’ he said with amusement, somehow managing to keep her still. ‘You win.’
‘I don’t want to win,’ she said. ‘At least not this game.’
This new Grace was free to be as provocative as she liked—free to express her feelings in a way she would never have dared to do before—and that made anything possible. The sensations she was experiencing in the darkness were dazzling.
Instead of moving she remained quite still. She wanted to remember every moment of this—Nacho’s thigh brushing her just where she needed him, the