Married for the Prince's Convenience

‘The look in your eyes threatens to unman me, querida,’ he rasped. His fingers went to the button on his trousers.

Embarrassed that she’d done something wrong, Jasmine started to look away.

‘No. Don’t look away,’ he commanded.

Her eyes flew to his. ‘But you said—’

‘Sí, I know, but I hate the thought of being deprived of your attention.’ With an impatient shove, he kicked the rest of his clothes away and stood before her, gloriously, powerfully naked.

Jasmine silently thanked him for giving her permission to look. Because she couldn’t have looked away now if her life depended on it.

He was spectacular! He stepped closer and she watched, fascinated, as the clearly delineated muscles moved beneath his skin.

Her stomach clenched with renewed arousal when he reclined next to her. ‘I want you naked.’

She wanted to find fault with his imperious tone, but Jasmine would’ve been a hypocrite if she didn’t acknowledge that every word that fell from his lips only further increased her excitement. Lending action to his words, he brushed aside her hair, slid one hand under her dress’s thin strap and eased it off her shoulder.

He feasted his eyes on her, scouring every inch of her breasts as if committing them to memory. With a firm tug on her bra, he bared one nipple, a guttural groan rumbling from his chest as he lowered his head and sucked her flesh into his mouth. He teased, he tormented. His fingers traced, paused over a scar on her shoulder, a remnant from her shady past.

She held her breath, her fingers convulsed in his hair, holding him to his task even as she tensed in anticipation of a query. His touch moved on. When he turned his attention to her other breast, Jasmine whimpered in delight and relief.

Dazed, she felt him tug her dress off. Her panties and bra followed, discarded by urgent hands that caressed her skin with masterful strokes.

Wet heat pooled between her legs, a fact Reyes’s exploratory fingers didn’t miss when one possessive hand cupped her feminine core.

Raising his head from her tight, wet nipple, he speared her with a fiery gaze. ‘Maybe I won’t go slow after all. I have to have you now,’ he rasped.

The next few seconds whizzed by in a blur, the sound of the condom wrapper tearing open barely impinging on her heated senses. He gathered her to him before she could draw breath. Placing himself between her thighs, he speared his hands in her hair and angled her face to his.

Eyes the colour of gunmetal held her prisoner.

He thrust inside her fast, hard, then immediately set a blistering pace that stripped her of every thought.

Their coupling was furious. Heady in ways she’d never dreamed sex could be. She screamed as the first, fierce climax hit her. He kissed away her shocked cries, almost greedy in his possession of her mouth, then slowed his pace just long enough for her spasms to ease.

Then he surged to his knees, placed her in front of him and entered her from behind. Guttural, indecipherable Spanish words spilled from him as he thrust over and over inside her, one strong arm clamped around her waist. Her throat clogged with emotion, her heart pounding wildly in her chest as tears gathered in her eyes at the magic she hadn’t come looking for, but had miraculously found.

Reaching up behind her, she clasped his nape, turned her head and met his lips with hers. They stayed like that, their sweat-slicked bodies rocking back and forth until he tensed, a harsh groan rumbling through his chest, followed by convulsions that triggered her second, deeper orgasm.

His arm remained locked around her as he eased them back onto the bed, their harsh breaths gentling. He brushed away the damp hair from her face before placing a gentle kiss on her temple.

‘This wasn’t how I foresaw my evening ending when I arrived at the museum tonight.’

Jasmine tensed, the thought that he could be regretting what happened sending a vein of ice through her chest. Some other-worldly, more experienced woman would’ve found a sophisticated answer to his comment. But no such words rose to her mind, so she clamped her eyes shut and held her breath.

‘Nor mine,’ she murmured.

‘You were amazing,’ he muttered, his tone hushed.

The breath whooshed from her lungs, joy making her lips curve in a smile that seemed to emerge from her very heart. ‘You weren’t so bad, yourself.’

He laughed, a low, husky sound she’d begun to seriously like. With a kiss on her shoulder, he eased himself from her body and stood up.

‘Come.’ Again his tone was more command than request.

Again, Jasmine found she didn’t mind. ‘Where are we going?’