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It had been. And he was literally hanging on to the last shred of his control. Seeing her like this, her breasts moving up and down jerkily with her breaths, long dark hair t
umbled across the pillow, it was all he could do to find and roll on protection.
He settled between her legs, where the core of her body was still hot and damp. She looked at him, her mouth swollen from his kisses. He’d never seen a more erotic sight, had never felt such a visceral need to join with a woman.
He couldn’t wait any longer.
He put his hands on her hips, positioned himself where she was so wet and ready, and plunged deep into the hottest, tightest embrace he’d ever known.
The sensation was so exquisite that he almost climaxed in that moment.
It was also unexpected.
She was innocent.
Unbelievably.
Her eyes were wide and shocked. He saw her silent entreaty to move...to do something to alleviate this alien sensation. And Gabriel could no more deny her that silent plea than he could force his mind back to some rational place and absorb this revelation fully.
It took supreme skill and control to claw himself back from the brink and move slowly in and out...
* * *
Leonora’s brain was white-hot with the sudden pain of Gabriel’s body thrusting into hers and now, as the pain ebbed, with the building of a whole new level of tension. He’d looked at her just now as if he’d realised she was a virgin, but to her profound relief he hadn’t said anything...
She didn’t want him to say a word to take them out of this moment. She was joined with this man who had taken her over, body and soul. He lifted her buttocks up, so he could deepen his thrusts, and every single part of her body spasmed with a wave of pleasure, cancelling out any last vestige of pain.
He caught her hands, both of them, and twined his fingers with hers. He brought them over her head and held them there as he moved in and out in a relentless rhythm that made her writhe against him, seeking release from the growing tension.
She could do nothing but hold on as he wound her so high she thought she would break into a million pieces—and then, with no warning, she did break apart, on a thrust so deep that she gasped at the majesty of his body pulsing deep inside hers. She saw an expression of almost pain on his face as he stared down at her, as if he’d never seen a woman before.
Wave upon wave of ecstasy racked her body. She could feel her inner muscles clamping around Gabriel’s hard length. She was his captive of pleasure and yet she’d never felt more free as she soared on a high that was breathtaking.
He jerked against her and she bit her lip to stop crying out as yet another mini-orgasm wrenched her apart all over again.
She had been so totally unprepared for this overload of sensation that she didn’t even notice when Gabriel extricated himself from her embrace, slipping into the deep oblivion of deep and total satisfaction...
* * *
When Leonora woke the faint light of dawn was painting its pink trails across the sky. It took her a second to absorb the fact that she wasn’t in her own bed and that she felt different.
Because she was different.
She was no longer a virgin. She had been thoroughly initiated into the art of lovemaking by a master.
She turned her head and saw Gabriel’s dark one beside her. Even in sleep he looked powerful. Her gaze moved down his naked body hungrily, lingering over the densely packed muscles of his abdomen and lower, to where his masculinity looked no less impressive at rest.
Her lower body clenched. After they’d made love that first time she’d fallen into a pleasure coma. And then she’d woken a couple of hours later with her bottom tucked into Gabriel’s body, his growing erection stirring against her. He’d demonstrated that that wasn’t the only way to bring about intense pleasure and had brought her slowly and inexorably back to life with his hands and his mouth, showing her that what had happened hadn’t been a dream.
No. It hadn’t been a dream.
It had been very much an explosive and transformative reality. She held the sheet to her body, going cold inside as the full significance of the night sank in. Just hours ago she’d been about to be publicly betrothed to Lazaro Sanchez. And yet here she was, having been thoroughly bedded by a totally different man.
This behaviour was so out of character for her. She hadn’t even kissed Lazaro beyond one chaste kiss on the lips. And yet she’d spent mere hours in Gabriel’s company and tumbled into bed with him with barely a moment’s hesitation.
She’d felt responsible for so long—since her parents had lost everything when she was a teenager—that she’d almost forgotten what it was like to want something just for herself. And now she felt supremely selfish. The paparazzi had probably been camped outside the castillo all night, while she’d been here indulging in sheer sensual decadence.
She felt as if millennia had passed since the previous day, when she’d set out from her home ready to commit to Lazaro Sanchez. And here she was in another man’s bed.
