Modern Romance Collection: November 2017 Books 5 - 8. Annie West
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this, enjoying the mounting desire, for far longer than if she were now completely naked on his bed.
‘Yes.’ That one word was so loaded with sexual tension he nearly groaned aloud, then she looked back at him, her green eyes so dark they resembled the depths of the forest, hidden from the sun. ‘We should.’
She turned to him; the dress that had been so seductively tight over her breasts now lingered alluringly on her arms, tempting him, and he bit down on the wild desire to all but rip the silver fabric from her.
‘This way, querida.’ He held out his hand to her, giving her one last chance to back away, one last chance to stop the madness of the desire that was flowing like a raging river between them.
She didn’t falter as she took his hand, and as they walked towards his bedroom her heels tapped on the hard floor. Each step she took was firm and decisive. She wanted this as much as he did.
The urge to rush, to take her swiftly and make her his had subsided, in its place a need to be calm, gentle. That way he could lose himself in desire, forget the world beyond whilst he savoured every moment of the night with Lydia, determined to wipe out all she meant, all she was connected to. He wanted to forget who she really was for one night. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind he knew she was different, knew this was a glimpse of the kind of life, the sort of love he could have had if his past hadn’t shaped him into a hard and emotionless man.
This was the kind of woman a man could love, the kind of woman he could love if he allowed himself to. But that would never happen. Love was a weakness and he would never be weak.
* * *
Lydia stood in his room, the large opulent bed dominating the space, competing with the man whose hand she had taken willingly as she’d walked with him towards this moment. She should have turned and run, as far as she could, when he’d given her the chance—and he’d given enough of them. She hadn’t because she wanted this too much, wanted him, wanted this one night.
‘Turn around.’ The firmness of his voice was tempered by the husky desire lingering in it. She did as she was told for no other reason than she wanted to. She wanted to go back to the moment of minutes ago when she could feel his touch, his breath warm on her neck as he’d kissed her, his body, firm and hard against hers; she wanted to believe this was something special, something more than the one night it so obviously was.
She shuddered as he placed his hands on her shoulders, sliding down her arms and taking the dress with them. The air was cool on her naked breasts as the dress slithered down over her hips and to the floor. Then, just as he had done before, his fingers trailed fire down her spine, pausing to make circles of pleasure on her skin as they reached the thin straps of her thong.
‘Very sexy.’ A feral depth had entered his voice and she couldn’t help but smile. He certainly knew how to make a woman feel attractive and desired. Something she definitely wasn’t used to.
Emboldened by the heady desire that coursed through her, she turned, scarcely giving a thought to the dress at her feet. All she wanted was to meet his passion, to lose herself in the moment.
She reached out to tug at his bow tie, pulling it slowly whilst looking directly into his eyes. ‘I’m feeling a little underdressed at the moment.’
His brows rose in amusement, but his voice had become a hoarse whisper. ‘I disagree, querida. Stilettos and those sexy panties are perfect.’
She let his tie drop against his white shirt as she moved closer, his arms pulling her against him, the soft fabric of his jacket brushing against her bare breasts. Just when she thought she couldn’t stand it any longer he lowered his head; slowly and very seductively he brushed his lips over hers. Her arms wound around his neck as a soft sigh of pleasure slipped from her, only to be stolen by his lips as he deepened the kiss, giving into the fierce need that enveloped them.
With purpose he moved against her, pushing her back towards the big bed, but as her legs met it her knees buckled and she tumbled back, bringing him with her. His weight pressed her into the soft covers, the hardness of his arousal pressing insistently against her thighs, sending her desire to new heights.
‘I want you, Raul.’
He looked down at her, his eyes so dark it was like looking at the velvety midnight sky and so easy to brush aside what this really was, so easy to fool herself into believing it was so much more.
He levered himself off her, looking so sexy, so handsome she wondered if she was dreaming, but the huskiness of his voice left her in no doubt that this was real.
‘Nothing would give me more pleasure.’ He smiled, a lazy and intoxicating smile, as he shrugged off his jacket, opened his shirt, button by button in such a teasing way she bit down hard on her lower lip as the anticipation of being his, being made love to by this virile specimen of masculinity, rushed over her.
Each breath she took as she watched him until he was completely naked was harder than the next. Her heart pounded wildly as he crossed the room with little regard for the fact that he was proudly erect. She watched as, with a hint of a smile, he opened a drawer next to the bed and took out the all-important contraception, placing the packet next to the lamp.
‘For our protection, querida.’
How had she not even questioned that? Had he blinded her so much with desire that she’d given no thought to such necessities? She blushed as his smile widened then he moved back onto the bed, covering her completely, and the heat of his erection, with only the barrier of her skimpy panties, as it pressed against her made her gasp with pleasure.
It had never felt like this before.
‘Tonight you are mine.’ Raul’s whispered words as he kissed her neck, his hands expertly making her body burn with fiery need, made anything else but the ultimate conclusion impossible.
His fingers hooked into the strings of her panties and she gasped as he pulled. The sound of ripping stitches as erotic as the expression on his handsome face.
‘Don’t forget the condom.’ Her words held a hint of panic that she hoped he wouldn’t notice. Now was not the time to enlighten him to the fact that she was far from experienced in the art of lovemaking, so much so she hadn’t given a thought to contraception as desire had whisked her away.
He kissed her lips then looked down at her. ‘Patience, querida. Patience.’
Then before she could say anything else his hand slid from her hip to the heated centre of her desire and she raised herself up as his touch brought a sensation she’d never known washing over her. As the torment continued she was aware of him speaking, aware of the Spanish words, but had no idea what he was saying, only that it increased the desire to dizzying heights.
In one swift move he rolled away from her, leaving her trembling in the wake of the pleasure that had just happened. She opened her eyes and looked at him. Would he have known that was the first time she’d ever known such pleasure?
He looked at her as he opened the packet, the intensity in his eyes making them so very dark. With a suggestive raise of his brows he rolled on the condom, then before she even had time to blush his body was overs her, his long lean legs pushing hers apart. Without any encouragement other than the constant hum of desire within her, she lifted her legs, wrapping them around him, lifting herself up to his possession.
With wild words in Spanish, so guttural she couldn’t make them out, he thrust into her, making her gasp and press her fingernails into his back. The erratic thumping of desire exploded wildly inside her as she moved with him, taking him deeper as he claimed her, harder and faster. It was explosive, wild, but completely wonderful.
‘I never thought...’ she gasped as she clung to him, the waves of passion crashing harder and faster over her, making her thoughts as disjointed as her words ‘...it could be like this...’
He silenced her with kisses as they moved together until the world splintered and she floated above the earth, barely conscious of his wild desire-induced growl.
‘Don’t