The Gold Collection: Taming The Argentinian: A Taste of the Untamed / The Untamed Argentinian / Taming the Last Acosta. Susan Stephens
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so cruel,’ she complained on a shuddering breath as he talked to her in Spanish, no doubt promising all sorts of excess.
She exhaled with excitement, feeling the proof of his arousal rest heavy against her leg. He was massive. She had always known he would be. But when she begged him not to prolong the torture he only laughed.
‘I’m being kind,’ he assured her in a husky whisper.
He had never known a woman to be so full of desire. When Grace rested in his arms, throwing her head back as she was doing now to drag in air, he wanted nothing more than to pin her to the bed and pound into her until they both fell back exhausted. But when she ran those tiny hands across his chest, when she traced the line of his shoulders with a touch so light, all he wanted to do was to treat her exactly as she had asked him not to—like cut glass. No woman had ever seduced him with touch alone, but Grace could. She had magic in her hands and something equally potent in her lovely, lust-drenched face.
‘Nacho?’ she whispered, sensing the change in him.
The past had intruded without warning, and it had come between them in the ugliest way. Throwing himself back on the pillows he wondered how he could even think of doing this.
‘Nacho, what’s wrong?’
‘What’s wrong?’ he said. ‘You’re not afraid of me, are you, Grace?’
‘Of course I’m not afraid of you. Why would I be?’
Because I destroy people, he thought. Because I can never give you what you want.
Grace frowned with concern—for him. Since the tragedy he had always known it was his duty to devote his life to family and to the vast territories they owned, and that he must remain free of personal ties so that he could never hurt anyone again.
‘I think you’ve forgotten me,’ Grace murmured.
He turned to look at her distractedly, and then she touched him—not just with her hands, but with her indomitable will.
‘Have you forgotten why you brought me here?’ she said, teasing him with a smile.
‘Forgotten you?’ The past fell away as he stared at her. ‘How could I ever forget you?’ he murmured dryly.
‘That’s what I hoped you’d say,’ she said, stroking him in a way that made him forget everything.
‘Tell me what you remember about me.’
‘I remember you sluicing down in the yard,’ she said. ‘I remember your arms—so sexy, hard and muscular.’
‘My arms are sexy?’ he said, his lips pressing down as he considered this information.
‘Especially if they pin me down,’ she said.
‘Is that a hint?’
Grace’s slender shoulders eased in a shrug. ‘What do you think?’
Kneeling between her legs, he eased the tiny lace thong down over Grace’s hips.
‘What are you going to do?’ she asked.
Surprised by the question, he was silenced for a moment—but then he realised Grace was in darkness, trusting him to keep her safe. ‘I’m going to feast on you and make you scream,’ he said.
She laughed. ‘See that you do,’ she said.
His hunger was raging out of control, but he had only teased her with the lightest of kisses when she cried out, ‘Stop! I can’t—’
‘Hold on?’ he supplied as she bucked beneath him.
‘That’s your fault,’ she complained, still lost in pleasure as she gasped.
‘I blame myself entirely,’ he agreed dryly. ‘More?’
‘Of course,’ she said.
Nacho was amazing. Shouldn’t one tumultuous climax be enough for her? Shouldn’t that have quietened the hunger inside her at least for a while? Instead it had grown, and with it her fantasies of what Nacho might do or make her feel next had exploded into endless possibility.
When she quietened he made some suggestions that turned her on beyond belief. ‘Like this?’ she said.
‘Exactly like that,’ Nacho confirmed when she drew her knees back.
‘You like looking at me?’ she guessed.
‘I love looking at you,’ he countered.
Feeling him move over her, she uttered a soft cry of excitement, and then he stroked her with just the tip of his erection, back and forth. Raising her arms above her head, she rested them on the bank of pillows. Reading her wishes, he took her wrists in one big hand while he guided himself inside her with the other.
‘Oh, please,’ she gasped.
‘You’re so small and I’m so big—’
‘Yes,’ she agreed, in a tone that suggested that was great news. ‘More,’ she encouraged as her excitement mounted.
‘You’re so pale, so soft, and your hands are so tiny.’
‘And you’re big in every way,’ she said, remembering the weight of his erection as it flexed against her. ‘And those big hands are the most delicate instruments of pleasure,’ she added as he proved this to be true yet again. She groaned as each touch coloured in yet another frame in her imagination. ‘And now it’s my turn to explore you,’ she insisted, freeing her hands to reach down—only to discover that, as she had suspected, Nacho was built perfectly to scale. One hand wasn’t nearly enough to encompass his girth.
‘Stop!’ he ground out hoarsely.
Bracing her hands against his chest, she waited. And then cried out with shock as he moved. Had she thought she was ready for this? She could never be prepared for this, Grace realised, though Nacho was infinitely careful as he moved steadily deeper. When he inhabited her completely she gripped him fiercely with her muscles, triumphantly claiming him for her own.
‘Good?’ he murmured, brushing her lips with his.
‘Can’t speak,’ she admitted on a shivering breath, wishing she could see the smile she knew would be curving his lips. But when he moved again she couldn’t think, could only feel as she began to move instinctively in time with him.
‘Don’t hold back,’ Nacho advised. ‘Take as much time as you want. Take as much as you want.’
And with his promise in her head she fell with relief into mind-stripping release. Her fingers clawed at his back as she thanked him in words she had never used before.
‘Again?’ Nacho suggested with amusement, when she finally found some sort of holding area.
‘Yes,’ she breathed.
He made it no easier to hold on this time, and she fell the moment he entered her. He had made her greedy. He had made her want him more than ever. He had made her realise that her life from this moment on would be incomplete without Nacho in it.
‘You are a witch,’ he said when she used her muscles to keep him close.
Rocking into her, he drove the breath from her lungs in a muffled cry, and drove on until they both fell violently and gratefully into the darkness, tangled in each other’s arms.
‘Sleep?’ Nacho suggested some time later, when she sucked in a shuddering breath.
A slow, sexy smile curved her lips. ‘Not yet,’ she whispered.
‘Then ride me?’ he suggested.
‘All right. But don’t help me.’
‘I think we’re a long way past that—don’t you, Grace?’
Straddling him, she was turned on all