The Last Heir of Monterrato

With the muscles in his biceps rippling, he started to bend his arms as he slowly lowered himself down over her wet and shivering body, his lips seeking hers again, needing the reassurance that this was what she wanted. And she did.

With her cold mouth opening, her lips formed a sexual cavity that longed to be plundered. Rafael gave out a rasping moan and claimed it, his tongue immediately diving into its depths. Then, peeling away, he bent his head, moving his mouth down to her breasts, kissing and licking the soft, wet, chlorine-tasting swell of each one before taking the cold-puckered nipple in his mouth to suck hard, then harder, as he felt Lottie squirm erotically beneath him.

This felt so good. She might not love him, but he could still turn her on—he could still make her body writhe and twitch for him. He gasped when he felt Lottie’s hand move down to where he wanted it most, taking his erection in its cold grip, owning his rock-hard length as she moved the skin up and down with trembling fingers.

Her body contorted beneath them, sticking and sucking on the wet mat as she positioned herself for him, ready to be taken. Reluctantly grabbing her hand, he moved it back over his shoulder. He felt her nails dig into his shoulderblades. If this wasn’t to be over in a matter of seconds he needed to take control. He slid his own hand down between them, running it over her damply matted pubic hair, slid a finger inside her, parting the warm, soft folds, feeling the tight muscles clench around it as he touched her clitoris and started to rub it with soft but assured pressure.

Hearing her moan, he covered her mouth with his own again, wanting to absorb the energy of her pleasure into his own body, to feel it with her. As she arched her body against his finger he increased the speed until he knew she was almost there. But not quite. Shifting his hips, he replaced his finger with the tip of his penis, then stopped, savouring this second, before sinking his length into her—halfway at first and then, fractionally altering his position, pushing again, more forcefully, until his entire hot, throbbing length was inside her, being gripped mercilessly by her muscles.

With a small yelp Lottie dug her nails into him further as she clung to him feverishly.

‘Lottie?’ He just about managed to grate out her name as he raised himself up to look into her eyes.

‘Don’t stop.’

The deep tremble in her voice, together with the faraway look in her eyes that he remembered so well, was all the confirmation he needed.

As she pulled him back down on top of her he felt her muscles tensing and clenching around him, holding him tightly, urging him on. He had to move faster now, increase the rhythm. The want in him was growing and swelling all the time, demanding release. And Lottie matched him, driving him on to join her, to be right there with her when it happened, and he knew that neither of them could hang on much longer.

With no more than five or six deeply penetrating thrusts he felt her body shudder, heard the irregular gasping, panting of her breath and knew that she was there and that he couldn’t hold back any longer. A shuddering, squeezing climax surged through his body, so powerful that it seemed to take Lottie with him, and he covered her lips with his own to silence his low, animal growl. As their wet-slicked bodies gripped and convulsed against each other it felt as if the world could end now and neither of them would notice.

CHAPTER EIGHT

BUT THE WORLD hadn’t ended. And even before the last shuddering convulsions had left their bodies Rafael was pulling away, looking down at her, the hunger of desire in his eyes turning to a cold watchfulness.

‘I’ll find us some towels.’

He was up on his feet now, and Lottie watched his naked body as he padded silently across the room, returning with two towels.

‘Here.’ Handing one to her, he avoided her eyes as she crouched forward to take it and wrap it round her protectively hunched body. ‘You mustn’t let yourself get cold.’

‘No.’ He was tying a towel around his waist now. ‘Rafe...’ Lottie stopped, not sure what she wanted to say but desperate to ward off the chill that couldn’t be warmed with a fluffy towel.

‘You need to get to bed, Lottie.’ He hurried to block any further conversation. ‘We both do.’

Everything about his posture, the tone of his voice, the tight line of his mouth, made it quite clear that he was talking about separate beds.

‘It’s getting very late.’

* * *

If she didn’t open her eyes it wouldn’t be true. Lottie could feel the sunshine streaming in, insistent against her closed lids, making it plain that the next day had dawned whether she liked it or not. That time didn’t stop just because of what they had done last night.