Bride in a Gilded Cage

Isobel shook her head again. ‘I do…but not when you’re being so cold.’

His eyes burnt her. He looked very serious all of a sudden, and Isobel’s heart stuttered.

‘Forgive me, Isobel.’ He grimaced, his voice gruff. ‘I was angry, and I want you so much…I didn’t stop to think. Perhaps we could find somewhere a little more comfortable for your first time.’

Isobel’s heart felt as if it was falling into a deep dark pit with no bottom. No going back now. ‘Okay.’

With a smooth move Rafael wrapped his tuxedo jacket around her and lifted her into his arms. Within what felt like seconds, Rafael had ascended the stairs and they were back in his bedroom, with the door firmly shut.

She felt as if she’d been surrounding herself with walls and now they were all tumbling down. For a long moment Rafael looked at her, still holding her in his arms. His hand rested just below the curve of Isobel’s bared breast. It hurt to breathe.

And then, as if loath even to let her down, he lowered his head and his mouth touched hers. His arms tightened around her. Isobel’s arms came around his neck and she sank into the kiss, flames of passion escalating as the kiss grew hotter and heavier in seconds.

She shifted in his arms. Rafael’s mouth moved over hers hungrily, and then he pulled away, so that he could press kisses along her jaw and, when her head fell back, down the delicate line of her neck. He pressed a kiss to the upper slopes of her breasts, and Isobel squirmed in his arms when a shaft of hot arousal went straight through her.

Slowly Rafael lowered Isobel down until she was standing. Her hands were still around his neck and she took them down hurriedly, embarrassed to be clinging to him like some kind of limpet. Her whole body felt like a fizzing ball of sensation and frustrated energy, and she watched impatiently as Rafael drew off his bow tie and started to open his shirt. He took a step forward as he undid his shirt and Isobel walked back, his jacket falling from her shoulders. They moved like that all the way till the back of her knees hit his bed.

She sank down with a whoosh. Rafael tore off his shirt and her eyes went wide at the sight of his perfectly muscled torso, covered in a smattering of dark hair. Ridges of muscle led down to his lean waist, along with a line of hair which disappeared beneath where Rafael’s hands were undoing his belt buckle.

Isobel swallowed and looked up again, her eyes caught by Rafael’s. She heard the whisper of his zip being drawn down, his trousers dropping, and then, his eyes never leaving hers, he came and nudged her back onto the bed, coming to lean over her.

Rafael rested on his hands over her. He looked down her body and his gaze stopped on her uptilted breasts, their tips tingling. He brought up a hand and lightly brushed the back of his hand over one tight nipple, making Isobel bite her bottom lip to keep a mewl of exquisite agony from erupting.

Rafael looked at her again and said roughly, ‘Do you know how long I’ve dreamt of this?’

She shook her head dumbly.

‘Too long.’

And with that his mouth covered hers again, and Isobel was lost, drowning in a sea of more pleasure than she could ever have imagined existed. All f

ears and concerns of inadequacy were lost and forgotten. Isobel had no cognisance of anything other than trying to keep breathing.

Especially when Rafael’s head moved down her body, and when his mouth hovered for a tantalising moment over her breast before his tongue teased and licked her nipple. Nearly crying with frustration, her back arching in silent demand, Isobel couldn’t help crying out when he finally sucked that tight peak into his mouth, her hands fisted in his hair.

Somehow Isobel realised that he’d manoeuvred them so that she was no longer hanging off the bed but on it properly. She felt his big body come between her legs, and that secret juncture spasmed in response. He pulled back and looked down, eyes glittering fiercely as he pulled her panties down and off her legs completely, dropping them somewhere out of sight.

She was utterly naked, but a quick look told her that Rafael still had his briefs on. Too overwhelmed to say anything she sank her head back and watched as he seemed to retreat, his hands moving down the sides of her body, following the line of her hips and thighs, before ascending again.

‘Rafael…what are you…?’ Her voice dried up when she felt him push her legs farther apart. He bent and pressed kisses against her belly and down farther. She tensed and could feel a light sweat break through her skin.

His hands came under her to cup her buttocks, and then she could feel his breath feather between her legs—Her head came up and she saw Rafael’s face, flushed in the dim light.

‘Relax, querida…you’ll like it. I promise.’

Like what? And then Isobel’s world stopped turning completely as Rafael’s head bent and she felt his mouth and tongue on that wet and secret part of her. Her hands gripped the sheet. Her back arched.

‘Raf…’ his tongue speared her intimately ‘…ael…’ She let out a gasp.

He was ruthless, remorseless, wringing a response out of her that she hadn’t even known she had. His mouth was wicked, pushing her further and further from herself and everything she knew. She tried to hold on but in the end…couldn’t. She felt herself arching almost off the bed, tensing all over, and then, after a stunning plateau of exquisite pleasure, she fell throbbing, down into Rafael’s arms.

The earth was spinning. Isobel was dazed. She was vaguely aware of Rafael tugging his briefs off and then he was back, arms around her, looking down into her flushed face.

‘Are you okay?’ He smoothed a hand across one cheek and all Isobel could do was nod, even as her body clenched minutely. She could feel his hard erection against her thigh and instinctively reached a hand down to touch him.

Something inside her exulted when she wrapped her fingers around his turgid length, even as her mind balked a little at the blatantly masculine evidence of his size.

He hissed on an indrawn breath and he brought his hand down to cover hers, taking it away gently. ‘We’ll have plenty of time to explore at a more leisurely pace, querida…but right now I cannot wait.’