The Spanish Doctor's Love-Child. Kate Hardy
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the bed and traced the curve of her jaw with a fingertip. ‘And you, too. Curvy, not a stick insect.’ As she instinctively sucked in her stomach, he smiled, leaned over and traced a circle round her navel with the tip of his tongue. ‘I said “curvy”, not “fat”. A real woman. Mateia bella. Very beautiful,’ he translated, rummaging in his bedside drawer for a condom.
He took it out of its foil wrapper, rolled it on, then slid his hand between Becky’s thighs and teased her with his clever fingers until she was quivering again. ‘Now?’ he asked.
‘Oh-h-h. Now. Yes. Please.’ She couldn’t remember the last time she’d wanted a man so much. It had been years.
Leandro knelt between her thighs, gently fitted himself to her entrance and then eased in, in one long, slow thrust.
She’d forgotten how good making love could be. How long had it been?
But, no, she didn’t want the bad memories to seep in and spoil this. Live for the moment, she reminded herself. And this moment was good. Really, really good.
She stroked his back, his buttocks—lord, his gluteal muscles were as perfect as his pectorals—and then, when he ran one hand lightly up her thigh and cupped her buttocks, she wrapped her legs round his waist. Took him deeper.
Every thrust took her nearer and nearer the edge.
‘Look at me, estimada,’ he reminded her softly.
She did. And at the precise moment her climax hit again, she could see it reflected in his own eyes, in the way his pupils dilated until his eyes were almost completely black.
He wrapped his arms round her, holding her close and muttering words in Catalan which she didn’t understand, though his tone told her he was as moved by what had just happened as she was.
Eventually, Leandro withdrew. ‘Excuse me for a moment,’ he said politely.
She knew he needed to deal with the condom, but as he left the room she started to wonder what the protocol was here. She’d never had a one-night stand before. Should she stay or should she leave now?
Just as she was about to get out of bed and find her clothes, so at least she’d be dressed when he came back and wouldn’t feel quite so embarrassed about discussing it, he returned to the room—completely naked and uninhibited by his nudity—smiled at her and joined her in the bed.
‘I’m glad you didn’t decide to go.’ He put his arm round her, drawing her close so her head was resting on his shoulder. ‘I know we said neither of us want a relationship, and that hasn’t changed. But stay with me for a while.’
This was what she’d missed even more than sex.
Being cuddled.
Being held as if she were someone precious.
Something that had definitely been missing from the last months of her marriage.
And the silence wasn’t uncomfortable; she didn’t feel the need to break it. Right here, right now, in Leandro’s arms, she felt warm and safe and wanted.
Her eyelids started to drift down; although she knew she really ought to leave, maybe a few minutes’ nap wouldn’t hurt…
She stopped resisting and fell asleep.
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