8 Magnificent Millionaires. Cathy Williams
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was so tender, so caring—but how could she be sure he wouldn’t be shocked or disappointed when she experienced the painful spasm that had always made fully penetrative sex impossible for her? She had to be sure she wouldn’t stop, Zoë thought as her hand strayed to his belt buckle…
Rico moved her hand away, bringing her fingers to his lips to kiss each tip in turn. Zoë’s eyes filled with hot tears of failure.
‘You need to slow down, Zoë.’
Glancing up uncertainly, she saw his lips were curving in a smile. She started to try and say something, to explain herself, but, putting one firm finger over her lips, Rico stopped her.
‘I’m going to find you something to wear in the hot tub.’ He broke away. ‘And then I’ll order some refreshments for us from the kitchen.’
Something to wear? Food from the kitchen? She was so naïve! She had expected to be naked, feeding on him.
‘And then we’ll sample the hot tub together.’
Better.
She gazed around. The ancient walls had been sandblasted in this part of the castle until they were pale yellow. The floor was a mellow golden marble, and all the tiles and fittings had been selected with a view to nothing startling to the eye or the senses. The temperature was perfect, the silence complete.
Rico reached inside a beautiful old oak chest and brought out some fluffy caramel-coloured towels, then black swimming trunks for himself and a swimming costume the same shade as her eyes.
‘That’s a lucky find.’
‘Or good planning,’ Rico said.
‘You know your way around here pretty well.’
‘I should. The castle belongs to a very good friend of mine. Do you want to go and change now? Music?’ he added, handing her the costume.
‘Why not? Something gentle and soothing would be nice.’
‘I’ll see if I can accommodate you.’ His voice was ironic as he moved to select a CD.
A sinuous melody started weaving its spell around Zoë as Rico took hold of her hand again, and she went with him, deeper into the spa.
The hot tub in the centre of the floor was illuminated by hundreds of flickering candles. Zoë gasped. ‘How—?’
‘You ask too many questions. Just accept you’re going to be pampered for a change.’
There were a million questions she would have liked to ask him, but for once in her life she bit them back.
They changed in beech-lined changing cabins, and she covered her costume with one of the white towelling robes hanging on the back of each door.
‘To think I didn’t even realise this place existed!’
‘The hot tub is kept locked up for most of the time.’
‘Your friend must like you a lot to let you use it.’
Loosening the belt on his robe, Rico let it drop to the floor. Zoë kept her gaze strictly confined to his face, but to her relief saw the black bathing trunks in her peripheral vision.
‘Aren’t you going to take your robe off?’
‘Yes…yes, of course I am.’
Zoë waited until she was up the steps of the hot tub and had one leg in the water before slipping off the robe. Then she was in like a flash, submerged beneath the water before Rico had even climbed in.
There were tiny lights above her head, winking on and off in a deep blue ceiling decorated with puffs of smoky cloud to give it the appearance of a night sky. ‘This is unbelievable.’ Zoë sighed, stretching out her arms along the top of the tub to keep her balance in the swirling water. She leaned her head back, and closed her eyes.
‘I prefer an open-air bathroom.’
She looked up again. Rico had settled himself across from her. ‘You mean the sea?’
A door opened before he could reply to her, and a waiter came in with a tray of refreshments for them.
‘Thank you,’ Rico said, glancing round at the man. ‘You can leave them here.’
Zoë blinked. There was champagne on ice, two tall crystal flutes, a bowl of sweet wild strawberries, some whipped cream and a bowl of chocolate sauce on the tray. ‘Now I have seen everything.’ She shook her head incredulously.
‘You really think so?’
Rico’s voice was challenging, and soft. She didn’t answer.
Wrapped in fluffy towels, and stretched out on a recliner next to Rico’s, Zoë sipped champagne while Rico lay back watching her through half-closed eyes.
‘If this is the Cazulas way of thanking people for giving a party, I may have to stay a lot longer than I planned.’ Putting her glass down, she relaxed back against the soft bank of cushions and stretched out her limbs in languorous appreciation.
Selecting a plump strawberry, Rico dipped it in rich chocolate sauce. ‘Open your mouth.’
He touched it to her lips, and she could smell the warm chocolate sauce. She wasn’t quick enough, and it started escaping in runnels down her chin. Leaning over her, Rico licked it off, and then he was kissing her—kissing her deeply.
It was the taste of Zoë that made him greedy. It made him want more, a lot more of her. It made him want everything. But he knew better than that. He knew he had to wait. Pulling back, Rico saw that her eyes were still closed, her lips still slightly parted as she sucked in breath, and there were smudges of chocolate all round her mouth.
‘Don’t be mean,’ she whispered, opening her mouth wider. ‘I want more.’
Smiling wryly, Rico began to feed her again. He kept on until she was begging him for mercy as she laughed; until she couldn’t keep up with the chocolate sauce and the cream, and it dripped onto her breasts, and slipped between them. Her lips were stained red with strawberry juice and her eyes were almost as dark as the chocolate. And then he couldn’t help himself. He was kissing her again, and she was clinging to him, not caring that her towel had fallen away.
Zoë gasped as Rico’s tongue began to lave between her breasts. She had sunk lower and lower onto the recliner, wanting him to continue until every scrap of chocolate had disappeared. Her breasts were streaked with juice and cream, and there was a coating of chocolate on each painfully extended nipple. His tongue was deliciously warm, and rasped against her sensitive skin in a way that was unbearably good.
She wanted more. But Rico was heavily into foreplay—something she had never experienced before. He knew how to tease and torment her; he knew every erogenous zone on her body. Her flesh sang with pleasure as she writhed beneath him, and she could no longer make any pretence at shyness. How could she, with his warm breath invading her ears? She cried out to him, shuddering uncontrollably, but just as she did so he pulled back.
Short of grabbing him by the hair and forcing him to suckle her breasts, she had no idea what to do next. She was getting desperate. ‘Shall I feed you now?’
Holding himself up on his fists, Rico looked down at her. ‘What did you have in mind?’
There was such a wicked smile tugging at his lips, Zoë couldn’t resist it. ‘Just this.’ Cupping her breasts, she held them out to him.
CHAPTER EIGHT
RICO stared at Zoë’s breasts. They were magnificent—a fact he had been trying hard to ignore from the moment he had seen her in a tight top pulling plastic oranges down from the walls. His control had never undergone such a painful test—especially now, when she was warm, soft, and more lovely than ever. But was she ready for this?
He couldn’t stop looking at her tight, extended nipples, currently reaching