Taken the Spaniard's Virgin

Miguel noticed her trembling and smoothed his hands down her bare arms. “It is time.”

“Yes.” She felt no trepidation, though perhaps she should, but there was no room for anything but the craving she knew only he could meet.

Thoughts of what would happen, why she was there, what she was feeling—all of them not quite fully formed—flitted through her head as her body grew more and more shivery with arousal beneath his heavy-lidded appraisal.

Her heart was beating fast and she felt it rushing through her veins, the heady liqueur of arousal heating every cell until she felt the flush of need stealing over her entire body. She could hear her own panting breaths as if magnified by a sound system. They echoed around her while her pulse beat inside her head. Her chest was tight with excitement, but that was nothing compared to the sensation of an electrical charge zapping each of her nerve endings with tiny jolts of life.

That was the right word. Life. She felt so alive with Miguel. Colors were brighter, the air was crisper, smells were more intense. That was why she could distinguish his scent over that of other men. It was calling to her now with an elemental masculinity that defied his sophisticated exterior.

Miguel Menendez elicited an entire range of emotions in her she had not even thought existed. At leas

tfor her . Emotions she had never really even wanted and now wondered how she could have been so shortsighted to think she could live without them.

This was glorious. Amazing.Life .

He pulled her close with gentle hands, but his face told another story. His expression was feral in its intensity, further proof of the primal male that lurked beneath the tycoon’s façade. His dark eyes said his hunger was easily as strong as her own. Perhaps stronger. After all, he knew fromexperience how good this was going to be.

Or did he?

He’d said she was different. Perhaps their intimacy would be unique and special for him as well. She prayed it was so. She needed it to be that way, but the sane bit of her mind that remained told her not to expect it. That kind of wishing was best left for fairy tales where the knights were as innocent as the maidens.

“I will make it perfect for you,carida .” He spoke with his lips bare centimeters from hers.

“You’re so sure you can,” she breathed.

“Of a certainty.” He made a sexy sound deep in his throat and kissed her, his lips claiming utter possession.

Her knees threatened to buckle and she sagged into him. He took her weight without faltering, looping one arm around her waist and pressing her close. Everything about him was hard and strong and she felt both safe and incredibly sensual molded so perfectly to his body. Running her hands up his sculpted chest under the suit jacket, she kissed him back.

His nipples were rocklike little nubs under the fine fabric of his tailored shirt and he groaned when her fingertips brushed over them. Her own breasts and nipples swelled and ached for his caress. As if reading her mind, his free hand came between them to knead her swollen curves through the lightweight cotton of her black Dolce & Gabbana summer dress.

She hadn’t worn a bra because of the spaghetti straps. The lack of additional barrier between his caressing fingers and her sensitized skin increased the intensity of the pleasure. Soon, she was moaning against his lips and pressing herself into him, trying to find a position that assuaged the ache of need growing inside her.

He swept her high against his chest and her arms went of their own volition to loop around his neck. The pulse beating in his neck was as rapid as her own. She savored it with her lips and he stilled in his move toward the bed, his arms convulsing around her. Oooh…she liked that.

She pressed an openmouthed kiss to the underside of his chin, her tongue flicking out to taste him, rasping over the dark stubble just starting to shadow his jaw. He tasted salty and so incredibly masculine.

She kissed along his jaw, nibbling on the hard curve, reveling in his taste and sheer maleness. “You are such a macho man, Miguel.”

“I am glad you think so,cielo, ” he rasped, tilting his head so she could reach more of him.

She loved that he was so into her touch and not afraid to show it. His big body shuddered once, like a skyscraper in a low level earthquake, but she never once felt in danger of falling from his strong arms. He really was all man and ultraconfident to boot.

She nipped at his ear and then touched it with her tongue, loving the sound of feral arousal that came from deep in his chest when she did it. Suddenly he was moving again, quickly, across the room, stopping when he reached the oversize bed that dominated the area.

He laid her down with strength leashed by tenderness and stepped back, shrugging his suit jacket off as he moved. His muscles rippled under the form-fitting tailored shirt and she wanted to reach out and touch them. Her arm lifted as if she would, but he was standing too far away.

She watched in avid interest as he stripped off his clothes with an economy of movement that spoke of impatience and total comfort with his own nudity. She’d seen male models, tons of them in varying states of undress. Had been posed with them in nothing short of intimate situations for the camera, but never had another man’s naked or nearly naked body made her own weep.

Moisture pooled in that secret place between her legs and it felt profound. Not merely sexual, but exquisite. Like coming upon a hidden waterfall in the forest—something secret and beautifully lush. To have never experienced the reaction with another man made her body’s response all the more special and wildly intimate.

Emotions as well as physical desire swamped her until she felt like she was drowning in a tsunami of need. Silken flesh that had known no man’s touch pulsed with agonizing rapacity for his. He stripped off his briefs, his hardness springing free. The flesh was slightly darker than the rest of his skin, stretched taut over an impressively large erection.

For all her exposure to the male body, she’d never actually seen a man in full arousal before. It was both just a little daunting andincredibly arousing. Despite the shiver of slight trepidation that skittered down her spine, her untried body instinctively knew what it yearned for and she undulated on the bed in helpless desire.

His eyes darkened until they looked almost black and he stroked himself with a natural sensuality that enhanced the hunger clawing inside her. “You are amazingly sexy,mi cielo .”

“That is definitely the pot calling the kettle,” she said between gasping breaths.