She felt his tiny jerk of surprise, heard a small growl of what she hoped was approval in his throat, and then she was kissing him back, and it was wild and passionate. An urgent, breathless clash of lips and tongues unlike anything she’d experienced before.
Driven by instinct, and a feverish need for greater contact, she clung to his shoulders and arched against him, revelling in the delicious rub of hard male muscle against her softer curves.
When his strong hands curled under her buttocks and lifted her it seemed like the most natural thing in the world for her to wrap her legs around him and continue kissing him as he carried her effortlessly across the room.
He stopped at the sofa and she unhooked her ankles as he lowered himself to a seated position on the cushions, bringing her with him so that she sat astride him, her bare legs straddling his muscular thighs. The slightly rough landing bumped their mouths apart and she sat back, hands braced on his wide shoulders to steady herself, and looked at him.
His eyes glittered under heavy lids and dark colour slashed his cheekbones. Like her, he was breathing hard. ‘Dios,’ he said, his voice little more than a harsh whisper. ‘What spell have you cast over me, woman?’
His ragged words and the heat in his eyes sent a ripple of heady pleasure through her. To know that he felt as helplessly compelled by their attraction as she, that his desire for her pushed him to the limits of his control, made her feel sexually powerful and confident in a way she’d never felt before.
She licked her lips and leaned forward, eager to have his hot mouth on hers again. But he stopped her, putting his hands on her rib cage, tantalisingly close to her breasts.
He eased her back and said, ‘I want to look at you,’ and her flushed cheeks grew even hotter.
Reaching up a hand, he stroked the tip of his forefinger over her bottom lip, then trailed his fingers along her jaw, igniting a shower of sparks beneath her skin. Light as a feather, his touch continued down her throat, over the ridge of her c
ollarbone and lower, eliciting a shiver of delight she couldn’t suppress.
‘Like silk,’ he murmured, and then closed his hand over her left breast and squeezed in a way that was brazen and possessive and made her a gasp aloud. ‘Take your hair down,’ he commanded, and it didn’t even occur to her to take exception to his tone. She was too far gone, too aroused, and for some reason the arrogant air of authority that normally rubbed her the wrong way only turned her on.
His hands had already played havoc with her ponytail, leaving it slightly askew, with long strands hanging loose about her face. She pulled the elastic band off and freed the rest, shaking her head until the wavy tresses tumbled over her shoulders and down her back.
Xavier lifted his hands and smoothed the hair back from her face, then drifted his long fingers through the silky ends and murmured something in Spanish. Voice husky, he reverted to English and said, ‘Take off your top, Jordan.’
There was something deliciously risqué about his ordering her to strip for him. Before her confidence could waver, she pulled her tank top up and over her head and let it fall from her fingers, watching his eyes darken as they focused on her breasts, encased still in the cups of her cotton bra. She saw his jaw lock tight, as if he waged some fierce internal battle, and again she became aware of the power she wielded, even though he was the one issuing commands.
Emboldened by the knowledge that she could so easily drive him to the brink of his control, she removed her bra and at the same time rocked her hips forward so she rubbed intimately against the hard ridge of flesh inside his trousers.
He sucked in his breath, then hooked his arm around her waist and flipped her on her back on the sofa. ‘Temptress,’ he growled, looming above her, his eyes shimmering with hunger and the promise of retribution as he palmed one of her breasts and dragged his thumb over the extended nipple.
Sensation arrowed from her breast down to the place between her legs where she ached with need. She gasped and arched her back in a wordless plea for more—more than just that fleeting, teasing caress of his thumb—and a smile of sensual satisfaction curved his mouth.
It was an utterly masculine smile that said he knew exactly what she wanted from him, exactly what her straining body craved and needed, and the dark glitter in his eyes promised to deliver.
He leaned down, finally took possession of her mouth again, and his kiss was deep and scorching, dragging the air from her lungs and making that needy ache in her pelvis burn exquisitely hot and bright. She could have kissed like that for ever, lost in the midst of hunger and passion, all rational thought conveniently suspended.
When his mouth left hers she almost moaned in protest, until she realised his lips weren’t going far—just to the edge of her jaw, then along to the soft skin beneath her earlobe and down the curve of her throat, pressing searing kisses to flushed, sensitive flesh that quivered in anticipation of each new touch, all the way to the tip of her breast.
Jordan caught her breath, knowing instinctively what he would do next, and yet still she wasn’t fully prepared for the lightning-hot sensation of him capturing her nipple between his lips and sucking her deep into his mouth. Her body arched and she tunnelled her fingers into the soft, thick hair at the back of his head, crying out at the unbearable pleasure he inflicted, afraid this sweet torture on its own would make her come.
He lavished the same attention on her other breast before blazing a trail of fire with his mouth down to her navel, where his tongue circled and dipped in an erotic fashion before travelling lower.
The ache between Jordan’s thighs became so intense, so consuming, that when she heard him say, ‘Raise your hips,’ she obeyed automatically, realising only once her shorts and knickers had hit the floor that he’d stripped her completely naked.
His big hands stroked up her inner thighs and then pushed them apart, opening her up to his unabashed scrutiny.
‘Xavier...’ His name fell from her lips on a breathless whisper, and she didn’t know if it was plea or protest.
‘Perfección,’ he murmured, and her cheeks burned at being so explicitly exposed and studied.
Slowly he ran a fingertip down through her bright red curls and then delved deeper, finding the place where she was hot and wet and thrumming with need. He looked up, caught her gaze and held it captive as he pushed his finger inside her.
Instantly she felt her inner muscles tighten, responding needily to the deep, intimate caress. He slid a second finger in, stretching her a little wider, increasing the pleasure as he stroked into her, sliding deeper and finding just the right spot...
Oh, God.
Her body tremored, rushing towards climax even before he lowered his head and used the hot, velvet slide of his tongue to hurtle her over the edge.