Her husband.
Her body ached for the fulfilment of his body. She wanted him in a way she’d never dreamt possible, and sparks of excitement at the prospect of being his shot round her.
He bent low over her and kissed her stomach before moving down further, his breath warm, sending fire gushing through her. She closed her eyes to the pleasure of his exploration. When she thought she couldn’t take it any more his kisses moved back up her stomach to her breasts. In turn he kissed each hardened nipple. He pushed first one knee between her legs, then the other and, giving herself up to an instinct as old as time itself, she opened her legs, wanting to feel him deep inside her, desperate to be at one with him.
Her fingers gripped his shoulders as his erection nudged her moistness. He lowered himself onto her, kissing her as his body shook with the effort of holding back. She felt his heated hardness teasing her, and then, just when she thought she couldn’t take one more second of it, he thrust deep inside her. She gasped at the pleasure of his possession, her fingers gripping ever tighter to his shoulders as she moved with him. Her legs wrapped around him, pulling him deeper into her, and he groaned in Spanish and thrust harder, deeper.
Their rhythm increased until she couldn’t help but cry out in joy. A new and exciting sensation washed over her and she opened her eyes to look out of the sloping windows above the bed, feeling as if she too were flying among the stars that now sparkled above her in the night sky.
Santos’s body shook and he cried out before burying his head in her hair, his body pressing hers into the bed. She wrapped her arms tightly around his back, keeping him there, wanting to feel him deep within her.
Finally her heart-rate began to slow and her breathing returned to normal. Santos lifted his head and looked into her eyes. ‘Now you’re truly my wife, Georgie.’
She didn’t know what to say—what to do, even—so she just smiled back, her body still too sluggish with the aftermath of passion.
Santos rolled off and away from her and the cool evening air shocked her naked body, making her shiver. He reached down, grabbed a throw from the bottom of the bed, pulled it up over them and, to her total amazement, pulled her close.
She hadn’t expected this. She’d thought he would disappear to the bathroom and come back partially clothed, ready to move on from what they’d just shared. Was this relaxed closeness part of his idea of no pretence? Was this the real man he didn’t want the world to see?
‘I should have asked this sooner,’ he said, his voice sounding strangely unsure, and she wondered what was coming next. ‘But we didn’t use any contraception.’
‘It’s okay,’ she whispered softly, and trailed her fingers down his arm, feeling a thrill of excitement when he groaned and pulled her close against him. Her mind quickly raced, wondering where her handbag was. Thankfully she’d put her contraceptive pills in there when she’d hurriedly packed for Spain. Not that she’d thought she’d actually need their protection. ‘It’s sorted.’
He stiffened slightly. ‘Even so, I should have at least asked, but—’
‘Don’t worry. There won’t be any repercussion from tonight. Just sleep.’ She kissed him lingeringly on the lips, feeling the tension slip from him. Finding herself pregnant was not an option she relished, and she was certain he’d feel the same. ‘Relax, Santos, try and sleep.’
He kissed her, pulling her close against his nakedness, stirring slumbering desire again. ‘How can I sleep with you naked next to me?’
‘At least for a while,’ she teased as he kissed her again, his hands smoothing over her back.
She closed her eyes against the rising need for him, determined to play it cool. He must never know just how much she wanted him at this moment.
As he slept his breathing became deeper and steadier, and in the dim light of the bedroom she could see his naked back. Her fingers were desperate to touch him again, to create a trail over his tanned skin. The temptation became too much and she moved, but as soon as she did his relaxed hold on her tightened and he mumbled something in Spanish. It was enough to stop her.
Instead she lay and looked up at the night sky through the sloping windows just above the bed. The motion of the yacht was soothing and finally she relaxed, after what felt like days of being on edge, waiting for Santos to pull out of their agreement. They were married. The deal was well and truly sealed.
Tomorrow she’d call Emma, tell her to make plans for her own wedding. She smiled, remembering the morning she’d first met Santos. His arrogance and undeniable air of authority had almost made her turn and run from his office. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought that the man she’d proposed to as part of a business deal would end up being the first man she’d ever wanted—really wanted. The first man to show her just how good loving could be. The first man she could love, if only she let herself.