Claiming His Convenient Fiancée

‘You got Paolo to bring you condoms?’ she shrieked.

‘It seemed like a practical solution.’ He shrugged. ‘I did not have any.’

She glared at him. He probably did that all the time—sent his assistants out for a coffee and cake and another two dozen condoms because he burned through them so quickly. He was a sex-driven devil. But, heaven help her, hadn’t she just benefitted from all that wealth of experience?

‘Have you no shame?’ She turned and took to the stairs, furious with him. She heard his laugh behind her.

‘You seem to have enough for the both of us.’ He grabbed her arm, stopping her, and turned her to look at him. ‘Truly, Catriona,’ he said softly. ‘There are far worse things to be shamed by.’

His words had that core ring of truth to them. But she didn’t want to know the truth. She wanted... She didn’t know what she wanted any more.

He waited three steps below her, his eyes just that little bit beneath hers. Beautiful, deep brown eyes. That half smile was so sexy. So assured. And so maddening.

Those hot moments in that small dark space had been the most erotic of her life. That was what she rebelled against. That a man she didn’t want to like could bring her to her knees like that. So easily. So carelessly. How was she supposed to protect herself from him when he overwhelmed her so completely? How could she not get hurt in this?

‘I don’t want to want you like this,’ she admitted with a raw edge to her voice. ‘I’m leaving.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘Do you really think you can walk away right now?’

‘Why not?’ She shrugged, dropping her gaze. ‘We’ve finally had sex. It’s over.’

‘It is anything but over.’

‘Once was enough.’

He laughed outright at that—but now there was little humour in the sound. ‘Was it? Then why are you still fighting me? Why all this heated passion if it doesn’t matter?’

‘What matters is how you manipulated that to get what you wanted.’

‘But it was what you wanted too. I’m not the villain here. I did what you asked me to.’

Heaven help her, she hadn’t only asked. She’d begged. And she wanted to beg again.

He wasn’t going to give her everything she wanted and needed. But did that really matter? She’d thought she’d found that with James and she couldn’t have been more wrong. Maybe she did just need a release for once. Something easy and fun and meaningless. Something that wouldn’t matter at all in the long run.

‘I just hate letting you win,’ she confessed.

And she wasn’t that much of a prize anyway. Once he’d seen her—once he’d had her again...

‘Don’t you understand?’ He climbed the two steps until he was right in front of her. ‘We’re both winning.’

‘You really want to win this?’ She swept off her tee, baring her entire body.

She’d never been as exposed to anyone. Never in the broad daylight like this.

His jaw dropped, his hungry gaze raked down her pale, freckled, angular body. ‘Catriona.’

She didn’t get the chance to reply or to run. She was in his arms and his kiss was utterly demanding. Utterly dominant.

And she surrendered totally. Her knees buckled and he lowered her exactly where she was, until she was prone on the staircase. He undid his trousers, kicking them off in a fury. That was when she completely forgot about how she looked. All her focus was on him—the expanse of golden skin and the play of powerful muscles just beneath the surface, the masculine whirls of hair on his chest that then arrowed down in a trail of delight to... She swallowed and her womb pulsed at the sight of him. He was physical perfection. She was hurled straight back into that maelstrom of passion and need and unquenched, unbridled lust.

‘Please. Please. Please.’ Not a plea, a command. She wanted to touch him. Taste. Feel. She was almost in tears with the need to have him.

He left her for a moment, muttering unintelligibly as he struggled to open the box of condoms and sheath himself.

But then he was back just a step below her butt, on his knees between her legs and grasping her hips firmly. He held her high, controlling her position so he could take her as completely, as dominantly as possible. And watch while he was at it—she was sprawled on the staircase before him, so exposed, and he devoured her with raw lust.

For a second he met her gaze; his eyes were dark and intense and so filled with desire. She panted breathlessly, spellbound. Never had she seen passion this raw. Never had she felt it in herself. The strength of it made her shake. Made her hungry. She was more aroused than she’d ever been in her life.

His gaze narrowed. He knew. He saw it in her, felt it in her. His face flushed. She saw his own control slip as his gaze burned down her bared body again—from her jutting breasts to her waist, to her slick, hungry sex.

‘I just have to—’ He held her firm and bucked his hips, impaling her to the core.

‘Yes.’

‘This time,’ he groaned determinedly as he thrust deep inside her again. ‘This time we can take our time.’

But there was no taking time for her. Not when he was grinding so hard against her and so deep inside her and all she could see was his powerful body pressing its passionate intent on hers. She was there already. Arched and taut as a bowstring.

‘Alejandro!’ The orgasm shattered her. She cried in unashamed ecstasy.

‘Damn it, Kitty,’ he growled as he held her hips more tightly and thrust harder, deeper, his eyes wide and wild as he stared down at her. ‘You make me—’

He broke off as a guttural shout burst from him. His veins popped, his skin glistened as he strained, fighting the pleasure that had already consumed him. Because there was no taking time for him either. ‘Kitty,’ he choked.

She laughed with exultant delight as he thrust that one last time, striving for the ultimate satisfaction with her. She squeezed hard and tight, cresting again as he was ravaged. She rode the rigours rocking his body as his orgasm exploded, and she relished the lack of control he had in that moment.

Serenity and satisfaction flooded her cells as he slumped heavily over her. And then the cold trickle of reality came. She closed her eyes, needing to scrape together some sort of emotional defence. But she was shocked at the uncontrollable, furious chemistry they seemed to share. They’d just acted like wild animals, mating on the staircase in about twenty seconds flat.

Slowly he disengaged and rose to his knees, gazing down at where she still lay, sprawled down the stairs, naked and unable to move. His eyes glinted as he seemed to read her mind. ‘You think we’re done?’ He shook his head as he bent and scooped her into his arms. ‘We’re very far from done.’

CHAPTER NINE

ALEJANDRO ROLLED ON to his back, appreciating the softness of the mattress beneath him as he pulled Kitty to rest on his shoulder. The bed was better than the hard floor but was too narrow for total comfort. He breathed out, satisfied. Finally he’d managed to have her the way he’d wanted to—taking his time, making her come again and then again before finally letting himself go.

He’d had to make it up to her because in all his life he’d never lost control as quickly as he had when he’d finally first entered her, locked in that little room. Her tight, writhing body had blown his mind, his orgasm impossible to delay. He groaned inwardly at the speed of it. It must have been the lack of condom—the first time in his life he’d taken such a risk. He knew it had been foolishness, but being with her had felt so good, his skin now goosebumped at the recollection. He still didn’t know how he’d managed to pull out. It had nearly killed him at the time.

He couldn’t take that risk again. He didn’t think he’d have the strength to leave her like that a second time anyway.

But he’d had to have her again—especially when sh

e’d started to build walls between them. That second time on the stairwell hadn’t been much better, with his pleasure literally coming too soon. Even with a condom his control had not been brilliant. But seeing her body then, watching her response and the emotions flashing in her eyes? She was exquisite—her breasts high, her nipples dusky, her waist narrow and at that private heart of her there was a thatch of that fiery-coloured hair... And it turned out that the skin that had been silken and warm beneath his lips in the dark room was moon-pale and luminous, and gently dusted with rose-gold freckles—they covered her shoulders, arms, breasts, thighs...every part of her. He’d traced patterns of them with his tongue, desperate to taste every inch of her, fascinated.

She’d not liked being naked in the light. She’d not wanted to admit how much she’d wanted him again. Her anger had flared. But when it had burned off, pure desire remained. She’d become passion incarnate—as voracious and as victorious as he.

He’d carried her up to the shower, then had her again up here in her bed. Yet, even now, despite the residual ache in his muscles, he felt his hunger stirring.

She was stirring too—wriggling away from him. He turned to read her expression but she was studying the ceiling with grim determination.

‘You can leave now,’ she said quietly. ‘It’s a bit cramped in here.’

He froze. Was she ordering him from her bed? Seriously? Before he’d even had the chance to catch his breath and cool down? Not if he had anything to do with it. She was not calling time yet.