AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Angie arched perfectly formed dusky brown eyebrows and said nothing.
‘You are out for revenge. You are trying to score points.’
‘Not finding it nice to have your prowess compared with others, querido?’
Roque shifted against her, and somehow managed to make her legs part enough to accommodate the pressure of his hips.
It was okay, Angie assured herself. The duvet was between them. He still wasn’t touching her skin. His warmth seeped through the barrier, though, as did the lurking evidence of his hard male potency pressing against the soft apex of her legs. He was supporting his weight on his forearms. Hard-muscled biceps shone in the dimness, displaying a physical strength that echoed the power built into his chest. And his long fingers hovered a small cent
imetre away from her cheeks, teasing her with the threat of capturing her face, so the skin there prickled and tingled in readiness.
And she was hot, feeling stifled by the duvet and by the heat coming from him. Eyes as black as jet held onto her defiant green ones, showing enough of a glitter to tell her he was not at all happy with the way this particular battle had taken shape. Now he was waiting for her to say something else foolish, so he could react.
But what he really wanted her to do was to confess that she’d been lying.
‘You’re heavy,’ she told him.
‘You love to feel my weight bearing down on you,’ he came back, soft as air. ‘You like to feel overwhelmed by me so you can have an excuse to let go of everything. Did your other lovers not recognise this?’
Angie moistened her lips, dried by his warm breath, and didn’t answer.
‘Frustrating for you, was it, minha doce, not having your special needs catered for?’ he goaded, shifting that oh-so sexy mouth even closer to hers. ‘In your desire to knock me off my pedestal were you driven to closing your eyes and opening your legs for these many new lovers?’
‘Don’t be so disgusting,’ she mumbled absently, engrossed in watching his lips move.
That wide, passionate mouth stretched. ‘I could have you crawling all over me in seconds,’ Roque taunted. ‘Before you could draw in a single breath you would be making those soft, anxious whimpers of pleasure while you tasted me. Ice-cool Angie you were not in my bed, querida. You were a sexy, slinky, greedy little wanton with only one goal in mind: having me deep inside you and driving you out of your head.’
Angie’s eyes were almost closed. She was trying so hard not to let his huskily delivered taunts spark a response from her. But her body was not playing. Her body was stirring up every sense she possessed.
As if he knew it, Roque shifted on her slightly, and the tips of her breasts stung as they sprang into tight, tingling pinpricks of feeling against the tautly stretched duvet. Gently but surely he pressed his hips downwards, and the greater contact with her thighs made them start to pulse. And still his fingers continued to hover a hair’s breadth from her cheeks. Still his mouth maintained that tiny tantalising gap above hers.
‘Come on, Angie, say something,’ he encouraged. ‘Describe how these many lovers matched up to me.’
Mutely, Angie shook her head.
Roque sucked some air. ‘Were there any other lovers?’
‘You deserve there to have been a thousand other lovers!’ she burst out, without knowing she was going to say it.
And that was it—the moment she lost it. The anguished force of her response sent her lips brushing against his, and sparks flew as the volcano of feeling burning inside her just blew its top. She dragged an arm free of the duvet so she could punch him. Roque muttered something as he ducked his head, then captured her mouth with a full-on, hot, driving kiss. With a whimper like those he had just described, Angie hit out at him again, and kept on hitting him—and kissed him back like a wild, reckless wanton.
But she was sobbing while she kissed him. She was writhing and gasping and still hating him. He crushed her into the mattress and scorched her with the ferocity of his own burning passion, until her hands went from punching him to clutching at his hair instead, her hot angry tongue spearing urgently between his lips.
Shattered by her own surrender, Angie found she could not contain what she’d let loose. It was as if twelve long months of grievous hurt just tumbled out of her. She felt wild with pleasure, and furiously angry at the same time. Hot, needle-sharp pricks of excitement set her fingers anxiously kneading his scalp. She could feel the heavy beat of his heart through the duvet and her limbs were melting. The thickness of his arousal was a blatant pleasure force he used to encourage her thighs even wider apart.
When he raised his head she found she was panting like a sprinter. His ridiculously dark eyes leapt with burning flames, his deep chest heaving, his teeth gleaming white in the darkness between his hot pulsing lips.
‘Were there any other lovers?’ he repeated the question.
Wanting that mouth back on her mouth—needing it there— ‘No,’ she squeezed out.
He threw himself away from her, rolling back across to the other side of the bed. Angie just lay there in a state of shocked numbness, stunned that he could just stop like that, but more appalled at how easily he had turned her into this shivering, quivering sensual wreck.
Then he really deepened her humiliation by picking up the pillow she’d shoved between them and repositioning her pathetic barrier as if it was himself he was trying protect now.
‘Go to sleep,’ he rasped, before he slid onto his side with his back towards her.
Angie rolled onto her side too, opening a gap between the two of them that made the silly barrier superfluous in a bed as big as this. Her eyes were burning with unshed tears, and she wondered if this was the point where she finally let them escape. She knew deep inside she had asked for everything Roque had just dealt out to her. She’d challenged his ego, poured scorn on his masculinity, and derided his prowess as a lover. Having satisfactorily reclaimed all three of those things, he was now content to fall asleep.
