The Vasquez Baby
Every single part of her was on fire, burning up in the heat of his seduction. ‘How can I when you’re holding me?’
His dangerously clever mouth curved into a sardonic smile. ‘I let go of you five minutes ago, cariño. So why are you still pressed up against me?’ He gave her less than five seconds for the truth of that statement to sink into her fevered brain and then he brought his mouth down on hers in a bruising, glorious kiss that sent both of them out of control.
This time there was no careful teasing or skilfully orchestrated seduction. There were no tentative touches of his tongue or sly brushes of his firm lips. Instead he claimed her mouth with his, driving out her protests with the force of his kiss.
And she responded because the way he kissed her demanded nothing less.
All the emotion and incredible tension that had been building over the past weeks exploded to the surface and they devoured each other hungrily as their bodies thundered with need.
His mouth didn’t leave hers but his hands dropped to her shoulders and he tore ruthlessly through the fabric of her dress. It slithered to the floor of the bedroom and was instantly forgotten by both of them because his hand was on her breast and Faith gave an agonised moan and closed her eyes.
Her head was filled with a kaleidoscope of light, and as his fingers grazed the sensitised peaks of her breasts, sharp arrows of desire shot through her body straight to the very heart of her. She leaned into him, pressing herself against his throbbing, thickened shaft, her response to him every bit as animal and basic as his was to hers.
They had no control. None. And it had always been this way with them.
‘Now,’ Faith sobbed. ‘Now—’ And she tore impatiently at his shirt, drew her nails through the dark hair that covered his chest and then moved her hand lower to cover him. His responsive groan echoed her own desperation and when he lifted her, she slipped both arms round his neck because to let him go now would have been unthinkable.
Neither of them was thinking, each of them just responding to a sensual hunger so basic that it bordered on the shocking.
She wanted to touch and taste and he obviously felt the same way because his hand went between her legs and she cried out and arched against him in instant response. When he drew a skilled finger over her silken warmth, she gave a shiver of delicious pleasure, the anticipation exploding inside her.
Somehow she was on her back on the bed and he was above her—bronzed, virile and very much in control. When his mouth found her breast she sobbed with pleasure and when his fingers slid deep, she raked her nails over the hard muscle of his shoulders because his touch was so unerringly skilled and confident that she could do nothing else.
The room was dark except for a shaft of moonlight that sent a spotlight across the floor and she opened her eyes and looked straight into his. Dark locked with green for a fiery, breathless moment and she just feasted on him, savouring the hard, packed muscle of his shoulders and chest and the perfect lines of his bone structure. He was hot, hard, handsome and hers—all arrogant, dominant male, the weight of his powerful body pinning her into a position of total submission.
‘Mine,’ he growled possessively, his hand in the silken curls that guarded the most private part of her. ‘You are mine—’
‘Yes—’ She didn’t want to be anyone else’s ever and just to be sure that he knew that she slid her leg over his thigh in a blatant invitation that drew a groan from him.
‘Wait.’ His breathing erratic, he swore softly in Spanish. There was a brief pause and then he surged into her with all the force of his passion, the power of his silken invasion driving her breath from her body because he was big.
Hard and powerful, he filled her completely and for a moment she struggled to breathe, completely overwhelmed by the feel of him deep inside her. Engulfed by excitement that terrified her in its intensity, she stared up at him in the semi-darkness, completely transported by the exquisite pleasure that their bodies created together. There was nothing but the two of them, their bodies locked in one glorious explosion of excitement as he drove into her with ravenous, fiery intensity. His hand was locked in her hair, her nails were in his shoulders and she urged him on with the thrust of her hips, her legs spread for him, her back pressed against the bed.
‘Raul—’ She groaned his name and he slid an arm under her hips, strong, virile and demanding as he lifted her into each surging thrust of his powerful body.
It was wild, uninhibited and out of control and when she shot into her first orgasm she took him with her, his body erupting with potent force as her inner muscles tightened around him. Mouths clashed, hearts raced, breathing quickened as every one of their senses was swamped by incredible sensation and they drove each other through wave after wave of pulsing ecstasy. Bodies slick and hot, they kissed their way through the whole incredible experience until the explosion was reduced to flickering, fluttering aftershocks.
Lying on the tangled sheets, weakened by pleasure, Faith wrapped her arms around him tightly and waited for her heartbeat to slow. She was so dazed after her climax that when he slid down her body and deliberately parted her thighs, she was unable to do more than whimper a faint protest.
‘I love your body,’ he murmured, his lips trailing a path that started at her knee and slowly traced the length of her thigh. ‘Do you know how much I love your body? Because if you don’t then I’m about to show you…’
Her brain and body still pulsing in the aftermath of her last orgasm, Faith tried to squirm away from him, too weakened to even consider another sensual onslaught.
‘No, Raul,’ she choked. ‘I don’t think I can—’
‘Then I’ll prove you wrong,’ he said huskily, guiding her thighs apart with single-minded focus and complete disregard for any modesty on her part. He held her there for a moment, surveying the tangle of bright golden curls with a hungry, sexual gaze that made her squirm self-consciously.
‘Don’t.’
‘I’m admiring.’ His mouth curved into a slow, teasing smile. ‘How can you be shy? On the surface you can be very English and proper.’ He stroked a strong confident finger along the most intimate part of her and she curled her fingers into the sheets because he knew exactly what he was doing, his gentle touch impossibly, agonisingly accurate.
‘Raul—?’
‘But below the surface—’ his finger slid deep inside her ‘—you are wild. All bubbling passion. All mine.’ And to prove that point, he lowered his head and slid his tongue over the delicate bud of her womanhood and she cried out in shock because her whole body reacted so dramatically to his touch.
She was consumed by arousal, acutely conscious of every move he made; of the restless flick of his tongue, the flex of muscle as he supported himself on his arms, the roughness of his jaw against the smooth skin of her inner thigh—and it was so agonisingly perfect and he was so skilled that she shot into another climax that he caught with his mouth and fingers.
He slid up her body, fastened his mouth to hers and kissed her deeply, and then he shifted slightly and turned her over. For a moment Faith just lay on her front, her eyes closed, her body still quivering from the touch of his mouth. Then she felt him move and gasped as his hard fingers captured her hips and lifted her onto her knees.