The Valquez Seduction

‘You want to play some more, querida?’

She gave him a vampish smile. ‘Edward can go as long as I want him to.’

‘Did you bring him with you?’

She sent him an arch look. ‘What do you think?’

He came back over to her and traced a lazy pathway from her sternum to her mound, stopping just above the seam of her body. ‘You are the most bewitching woman I’ve ever met.’

Daisy basked in the compliment like a fur seal in the sun. His finger was tantalisingly close to where she most wanted him. The ache was building deep inside her, all of her nerves dancing in anticipation of that first delicious stroke of his finger. His eyes grew darker and darker with desire as they held hers. Then, ever so slowly, he separated her folds, slipping one finger into the silky wetness of her body. She arched her spine like a cat, all but purring as he began to stroke her. It was impossible not to come. She didn’t even have to concentrate or empty her mind of distracting thoughts. The sensations triggered by his magical touch were so intense they took over her body as if she were a rag doll, shaking her senseless.

But he didn’t stop there.

He unzipped his jeans, stepping out of them roughly before reaching for another condom. She watched as he peeled it back over his length, proud and strong and virile.

He came over her, nudging her legs further apart, his eyes black and glittering as his hands pinned her arms above her head in a masterful manner, making everything that was female in her shudder in primal pleasure. She gasped as he sheathed himself to the hilt, the sensation of him stretching her to capacity sending her senses reeling. There was no slow and considerate pacing this time. He set a ruthlessly fast rhythm that made her nerves come vibrantly alive. Her body welcomed the sensual assault, delighting in the way he was thrusting with such relentless vigour as if the desire he felt for her was an unstoppable force. His face was clenched tight as he fought for control, his breathing rough and hectic.

She cried out loud as the first wave of her release hit her. It ricocheted through her body, shaking her, rattling her, sending her spinning off into a vortex that was beyond the reach of all thought and reason.

But she was still conscious enough to be aware of him as he spilled. He gave one deep sound that sounded as primitive as a feral growl, his face contorting with pleasure as he emptied.

Daisy released a shuddering breath as he released his grip on her arms. ‘You really know how to give a girl a good time.’ She rubbed at her tingling arms, wondering if she would bruise.

He frowned as his gaze went to the reddened marks on her skin. ‘Did I hurt you?’

She suddenly felt embarrassed. She didn’t want to come across as fragile. She wanted to be his equal, not some vapid wimp who didn’t know how to play the casual dating game. ‘Not at all.’

He ran his fingers over the marks in a barely-there touch. ‘I’m sorry. I lost my head there for a bit.’

Daisy tiptoed her fingers up and down his chest. ‘You don’t like losing control, do you?’

‘It’s not a habit of mine.’

She circled each of his nipples in turn. ‘There are some things in life you can’t control.’

‘Young, smart-mouthed Englishwomen being one of them.’

She smiled at him. ‘The more I get to know you, the better I like you.’

Something flashed over his face. A camera shutter quick movement that left a nerve ticking in his jaw. ‘Let’s stick to the rules, shall we?’

‘Oh, I’m not changing the goalposts,’ she reassured him. ‘Why would I? You’re not what I’m looking for in a husband.’

‘So you keep reminding me.’

‘Why does that annoy you?’

His frown brought his brows together. ‘It doesn’t annoy me.’

Daisy reached up and smoothed out the crease between his eyes. ‘Yes, it does.’

He pushed her hand away and got off the bed. ‘I have to—’

‘I know, I know,’ she said with a knowing smile. ‘You have to make some calls or check some emails, right?’

He shifted his lips from side to side as if wondering what to do with her. ‘What is it you want from me?’

‘I told you. A holiday fling. Sex without strings.’

He raked a hand through his hair, releasing a harsh-sounding breath. ‘You expect me to believe that?’

‘Why not?’

He stepped back into his jeans and pulled up the zip. ‘Because it doesn’t usually work that way.’

‘You mean because women usually want the fairy-tale ending?’

‘Don’t you?’

‘Yes, but not with you.’

He looked about to ask something but changed his mind. His mouth slammed shut as he glowered at her. But, for all that, the unspoken words rang in the silence: Why not me?