His voice grew husky. Desire trembled there. His hand between her legs began to slide under her panties. She arched involuntarily when he feathered a finger across the soft, damp spot at the juncture of her thighs. Every pink, throbbing part of her pinged at his touch. She moaned in her throat and sank back deeper into the bed as he caressed more deliberately.
She’d never known a touch could feel like fire, spread through her until every inch throbbed and burned. Involuntarily she moved her hips, filling his palm with the dewy softness between her legs.
“Marcos…” It was a plea, and it carried in it the fright she experienced in what he made her feel.
“Shh.” His lips grazed her temple. “Open up to me.” His free hand tugged at her bra and bared her left breast to him. Her disbelieving gaze captured the instant the rosy peak of her nipple disappeared between his lips. A thrilling jolt rushed through her as the moist heat of his mouth enveloped her. Her head fell back on a moan.
Instinctively she reached up to cup the back of his head, cradling him with the same gentle care he used to suckle her breast. He groaned profoundly in his throat and continued to fondle her with his mouth, lips nipping, tongue swirling, mouth suckling.
His hand moved lightly, expertly, his fingers unerringly fondling her through her panties. Hot little shivers rushed through her.
One long finger began to stroke her dampness. Open her with little prods of the tip.
She squirmed in shock, a little in agony, seeking ease for the burn growing inside her. “I hurt.” Blindly, her parted mouth sought more of the warmth of his lips. He penetrated her. With his tongue. His finger. She arched and cried out, shocked by the sensation. An explosion of colors erupted behind her eyelids. His mouth melded to hers harder. Skin, heat, ecstasy.
Her skin felt damp while every cell in her body felt hot and tingly. With a low growl, he delved a hand into her hair and pulled her head back, moving his mouth up her neck. It was damp and velvety on her flesh, licking as though her skin were his only sustenance. In her ear he rasped, “I’m filling you.”
“Yes.” Against his throat.
“You crave me to fill you.” His finger was thrusting, possessing—his body incredibly hard against hers. “You need me to take away the hurt.”
Pleasure ripped through her, and her back arched helplessly as she moaned. “You make me reckless, Marcos, you make me…”
“Burn.” He opened his mouth. Giving her the mist of his breath. “I can’t believe how ready you are. How slick. Are you pretending? Are you, amor?”
“No.”
He gave her his tongue. She could hear the soaked sounds his touch caused and felt embarrassed and aroused all at once. “Shh. Take my finger,” he huskily murmured, the graze of that finger so bare and fleeting across her entry she mewled with a protest to take it in again. “Soon I’ll give you two. Do you want two?”
“No,” she lied. Her body ruled now, screamed, shivered against his.
“Hmm.” He inserted the first, then the second deeply. “I’ll pretend that was a yes.”
Her thoughts scattered. “Marcos, please…”
“My God, you’re responsive.” His hands continued to work their magic as he looked down on her. “You were jealous for me.”
The burn intensified. The clench in her womb unbearable. “Yes,” she breathed, closing her eyes.
His groan sounded like a growl. “I like that.”
“Marcos.”
He was watching her, the effects of what he did to her. Every time she gasped, or let go a little moan, his face tightened with emotion—and alternately, something clenched tightly in her. She’d never known the extent of her passion, was surprised at how shamelessly she took pleasure from him.
Gently, he pried her fingers away from his neck and brought her hand between their bodies. “Touch me.”
“Where? Where do I…”
“Here.” He shifted over her. The sheets slid well below his hips and their every inch, shoulder to hips, became perfectly aligned. The very hardest part of him pushed against her hand. “Feel me,” he strained out. “Feel how I want you. This isn’t for her, Virginia, this is for you.”
He ground his hips against hers unapologetically. When she let go, his rigid length grazed her moistness through her panties. They groaned at the contact. He pressed closer, ground himself harder, wide and long against her. She wanted to die.
By the erratic heaves of his chest, Virginia suspected even though he was larger and more powerful, he was as defenseless to their chemistry as she was. Under her fingers, his skin was warm and slightly damp. Shyly, she continued to explore him, sifting her fingers through the dark hair at his nape, amazed at the soft texture.
His hands covered her breasts. The calluses on his palms were palpable through the lace, and her breast swelled ripely under his kneading.
Turning her cheek into the pillow, she let her eyes drift shut as she fought the intimacy of it all, the swelling tenderness that washed over her as he touched her. It was difficult to imagine that he was not her lover and she wasn’t entirely, completely, indisputably his.