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He hadn’t asked her how it was that she could do what she was doing—making love to him with abandon—while counting down the days to her wedding. She hadn’t stopped agonising over what his opinion of her would be, but she had acquired a skill for shoving it to the back of her mind. It was a skill she had been called upon to utilise many times over the past four days, during which they had made love like starstruck teenagers.
She had no inhibitions when she was with him. He had taken them all away from her and replaced them with a greedy craving that knew no limits. He didn’t have to tell her where to touch him. She just seemed to know.
She watched, smiling, as he began swimming back towards shore, his strokes even and certain, his body becoming more and more defined the closer he got.
Her breath caught in her throat when, after a few minutes, he stood up and raked his fingers through his wet dark hair.
Quite simply put, the man was beyond beautiful, and she never tired of looking at him.
Eyes firmly fixed on her rapt face, even though he couldn’t decipher the expression, Leandro lightly held himself and began walking slowly towards her.
He had cooled down after their earlier bout of lovemaking and now he was ready and raring for more. He could feel himself hardening in his hand, and by the time he was standing next to the towel, gazing down at her glorious body, he was rigid.
‘Now look at what you’ve done...’ He grinned, and then inhaled sharply as she sat up and took him in her mouth.
His hand behind her head, he stood completely still as she sucked and licked and teased his massive erection until he was groaning aloud and wondering if he should bother to try and control the orgasm that was hurtling towards him.
Never in his life had any woman been able to get him fired up to this extent.
Reluctantly he tugged her away and took a few seconds, trying to regain some kind of control over his body.
‘You’re a witch.’
He lay down next to her and drew her to him so that they were both on their sides, facing one another, their bodies fused. He nudged open her legs and felt her wetness against his thigh.
He could never have foreseen this. He could never in a million years have predicted that he and his secretary would end up in bed together. But now that they had he couldn’t quite understand how it had not happened sooner.
Making love to her felt like the most natural thing in the world.
He kissed her—a long, lazy kiss—taking his time. He moved from her lips to her neck and she arched back as he nibbled the tender skin, targeting just that area by her ear where he knew she loved to be kissed.
The thrust of her breasts proved too tempting, and he moved downwards to feast on one swollen nipple until she was whimpering and twisting underneath him.
She tasted good and he continued suckling, drawing the nipple into his mouth while he teased the rosebud tip of the other between his fingers.
‘You’re hot...’ Barely shifting, he reached into the cooler they had brought with them, dislodged the lid and fumbled until he had an ice cube in his hand. ‘You need cooling down. At least, these tender little nipples of yours do...’
He propped himself on his elbow and rolled the ice cube over the tip of her nipple, then circled it over her breast until she was moaning and giggling at the same time.
‘Now, tell me that doesn’t feel better...cooler...’ He tossed the ice cube aside and continued his ministrations, licking and teasing the stiffened buds and then covering her breasts with kisses, heading south along the flat planes of her stomach.
He dipped his tongue into the indentation of her belly button and smiled as she inhaled sharply.
Her body responded to his each and every touch with exquisite immediacy. He felt as though she was a woman being touched for the first time, and in a way she was. She was inexperienced. Her past two boyfriends had failed to satisfy her. And hearing that had turned him on in ways he could hardly define.
He had made it his mission to do just the opposite—to turn her on to the point where she couldn’t keep her hands off him, where she couldn’t be in his radius without wanting him.
It was a two-way street, because he couldn’t see her without touching her, couldn’t keep his hands off her, and couldn’t be bothered to try even when they were out in public.
He trailed his tongue lower, taking his time to explore the satiny smooth skin of her belly, and then he gently parted her legs with his hand, preparing the way for what he would do next. Taste her. Feel her shift restlessly under him. Hear her soft little whimpers of delight.
She tasted of the warmth of the sun, the saltiness of the sea. He burrowed between her legs, licking and exploring every inch of her soft femininity with his tongue. She was damp and slippery and he loved the way she wrapped her legs over him and kept her hands firmly at her sides, fists clenched, every muscle in her body tuned in to what he was doing to her.
It was as if she were concentrating, focusing with her whole body on what was being done to it, with no sensation being taken for granted.
He physically ached from the constraint of not doing what his body was screaming to do—which was to come in her, hard and fast, until he was satisfied.
In the past, however much he’d been turned on by a woman, he had always been able to break things off in the event of an emergency. His mobile phone had always been switched on. The demands of work, even in the throes of passion, had always come first.
With Emily, it was different. He switched off his mobile phone. For hours on end. He was irritated when he got a call that interrupted time spent with her.
He felt her body begin to stiffen as wave upon wave of pleasure washed over her, threatening to take her over the edge.
Reluctantly, he raised himself to kiss her.
‘I didn’t want you to stop,’ she complained, returning his kiss with little fluttery kisses of her own.
‘I know. Nor did I. Have I ever told you how delicious you taste down there?’
Emily grinned, her eyes slumberous with a passion waiting to be sated. She wished she could hold this moment for ever—bottle it, perhaps, preserve it in some way so that it could remain intact.
‘You may have...’
‘I can think of a thousand things I’d like to eat off your body... Not that I imagine I would be able to exert sufficient self-control to do it...’
Emily’s mind took flight at that. She watched as he reached across to the pile of clothes next to them, fumbling until he found protection, and all the while she could picture him licking ice cream from her stomach, honey from her nipples, all manner of sweet things from everywhere, until she was driven wild.
She pictured herself doing the same to him.
She was waiting, ready for him as he inserted himself inside her, big and powerful and filling every inch of her.
Her fingers dug into his shoulders as he began to move, thrusting deeper and deeper so that the beach towel was rucked underneath them. Eyes closed, she blindly sought his mouth and found it, and then she lost herself in a never-ending kiss as he continued to bring her faster and faster towards her climax.
When she came, she flung her head back and held her breath, before crying out as her orgasm took over her body, banishing all thought and carrying her away to another place completely.
He was holding her tightly, timing his own climax, holding off before allowing himself to let go, feeling her every reaction and responding to each one with unerring instinct.
They came as one and he groaned and stiffened as he spilled his seed into the condom, wishing with shocking unexpectedness that he could feel her without the protective sheath dulling the sensation.
‘I’m hot,’ she said sleepily as he disposed of the used condom and settled down on the towel with his arms around her, their bodies spent.
‘Perhaps we should give it a few minutes before we resume activity,’ he murmured, grinning. ‘I may be superhuman when it comes to making love, but even I have my limits...’
‘I didn’t mean I was hot for you. I meant that I was...hot...’
‘A man’s ego could be crushed...’
He kissed the side of her mouth and then decided to linger a little longer there. And holding her breast would, he decided, feel pretty good too. So small and delightfully soft.
‘Let’s go for a dip,’ he suggested. ‘Then lunch. I’ve had your favourite prepared.’
‘You don’t know what my favourite is...’
‘Of course I do! Sandwiches...brown bread...with ham...all fat cut off...lettuce and tomato, mayonnaise, no mustard. Or chicken salad...no celery... Fried fish is also on the menu...with ketchup and lots of it...’
‘How on earth do you know that?’
But she knew how he did. They did a lot of talking, and sometimes about the most inconsequential of things. He had compiled a random set of facts about her just as she had about him.
She felt a stirring of unease blow over her like a cold breeze. She reminded herself that this was just time out—an adventure before she resumed the reality of her life back in England.
