Mistress: Pregnant by The Spanish Billionaire

‘And I want you.’ Luiz, his voice barely recognisable, uneven and thickly accented, pulled the dress over her head. Nell shivered as her skin was exposed to the night air.

Heart thudding frantically against her ribcage, she felt his breath against her face as he slipped the catch on her bra and pressed her back onto the mossy surface.

His eyes were deep black pools and Nell felt herself slipping and falling into them, losing herself…wanting to lose herself in him, in all that hard, dark maleness.

Luiz leaned over her, one hand braced on the floor at her side, the other moulding each pink-tipped quivering breast in turn as words of liquid Spanish slipped from his lips.

‘I can’t bear…’ Nell thought she might die from the unbearable sweet, painful intimacy. Her body arched as his lips moved down across her soft belly, while his hands moved lower, sending sweet, sharp shocks of burning sensation through her entire electrified body.

‘You’re so hot and wet for me,’ he purred throatily as he kissed the curve of her neck.

Her thighs parted under the pressure of his knee and he settled himself between them. The touch of his silky hardness as his erection brushed against her thigh drew a primal cry of, ‘Please,’ from her parted lips as she struggled to breathe.

He took her hand and, holding her eyes, curled her fingers around his shaft. It was hard as steel, silky and hot.

‘That is what you do to me, querida,’ he slurred thickly before removing her fingers and pinning both her hands over her head.

He slid into her then, sheathing himself deep inside her with one thrust. The shocking sensual invasion drove the breath from her lungs as she struggled for air and cried his name.

Too involved with what was happening to her, the amazing sensation of being filled and stretched, she was only dimly conscious of Luiz’s rasping cry of disbelief.

‘I hurt…Madre de Dios, you…’

Nell bit his shoulder. ‘I’m not hurt, I’m…oh, God, please, Luiz, you’re…’ She felt some of the rigid tension in the muscles of his back loosen as he began to move slowly. She stroked his back, her fingers digging into the sweat-slick smoothness, and clung, wrapping her legs around him as he moved, slowly at first and then, in response to her desperate cries, harder.

He felt the first ripples of her contraction and, losing the tight, painful control, he buried himself deep in her and let go. The climax shattered him and left him gasping for breath as he collapsed onto her.

Nell opened her sleepy eyelids and blinked. As the leafy canopy above her head slid into focus the night’s events came rushing back.

‘Oh, God!’ She sat bolt upright, her wide eyes scanning the clearing.

There was no sign of Luiz. She was alone in the clearing, the smouldering embers evidence of the blazing fire, and the new aches in her body the evidence of the lovemaking.

‘Oh, God!’ she wailed again.

A one-night stand!

She had always wondered what mind-numbing sex would be like and had secretly feared she was too repressed to ever find out first hand, but she had—now she knew!

The learning curve had been steep, but she’d had a pretty good teacher. An image of Luiz’s face flashed into her head.

In her naivety she had always thought that for perfect sex you needed a meeting of minds, of hearts, but last night had disproved this theory totally. She was shocked and in equal measure fascinated by the instincts that had burst into life and taken her over—instincts that had been so dormant she hadn’t even suspected they existed, that she was capable of such unrestrained passion.

She ran her tongue across her lips. They still felt swollen and sensitive from his kisses. A thrill ran through her as she touched her mouth, her eyes clouding hazily as moments of the passionate coupling flashed across her vision.

It could have been worse, she told herself—she could have fallen for him.

It had been sheer insanity! But beautiful insanity. Before she could dwell on the details of that depravity she heard the sound of movement in the distance.

Hastily she pushed aside the jacket that was covering her and, dropping to her knees, scrabbled for the clothes that had been hastily discarded the previous night.

She slid her dress over her head, swearing softly when her zip snagged halfway up.

‘You’re awake.’

Standing there barefoot and poised for flight with her hair tangled, her big eyes wide and wary, she made him think of a woodland nymph.

‘You should have woken me. What time is it?’ He looked incredible in a sexy, rumpled way; she, on the other hand, must look like a bag lady. The world was not a fair place.

He raised a brow at her querulous tone. ‘Not a morning person?’