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He hooked his T-shirt over his head, ripped down his trousers and boxers, and stood naked before her.
Ana had never seen a more gorgeous specimen of man. And that was saying a lot, considering her profession. Bastien’s body was more than an extraordinary streamlined symmetry of flesh and bone. It was fluid, lithe, and graceful in ways she could never accurately describe. And most of all he was proudly masculine and unashamed of it.
His erection throbbed with a life of its own. She stared, unable to look away, as he advanced and captured her in his arms.
‘If you insist on talking,’ he rasped, before seizing her mouth in another searing kiss, ‘tell me your favourite position, ma petite. We’ll start with that.’
Shocked laughter tripped from her. ‘My favourite...?’ She couldn’t repeat his question—nor could she stop the fierce blush that suffused her face. ‘Ah, Dios!’
He traced a finger over her cheek. ‘I’m not sure which turns me on harder—hearing you speak in Spanish or your blushes,’ he said huskily, lowering his head to graze hot lips over her skin.
Continuing along her jaw, he slowly circled her until he stood behind her. Scooping her hair into one hand, he trailed kisses along her shoulders.
Ana shivered uncontrollably, her temperature spiking to dangerous levels. She fought to stay upright as he traced a breath-stealing erotic path over her skin. Eyes drifting shut, she reached out and grasped the bedpost, harsh pants of need exploding from her chest as she succumbed to the wonder of sensations buffeting her.
At the base of her spine he lingered, flicked his tongue against her skin just above her panty line. He grasped her hips, his strong hold stamping his desire on her, and turned her to face him.
Opening her eyes, she stared down into stormy grey eyes. His skin was flushed, his face stark with barely controlled desire. At the back of her mind Ana registered that he seemed as affected by the roiling sensation as she was, but the thought was fleeting. Because she read his intent and every muscle clenched tight.
‘No!’
He paused, his sensual mouth so close to the wet evidence of her arousal. ‘You don’t like the idea of my mouth on you?’
She shook her head, shivering when her hair brushed over sensitised nipples. ‘It’s not that. It’s just... I’ve never...’
His eyes registered surprise, then morphed into a calculating, anticipatory gleam. ‘If you’ve never, then how do you know you don’t like it?’
‘Bastien, por favor—oh!’
Shoving aside her thong, he placed an open-mouthed kiss on her, his tongue darting out to lick in bold sweeps. Sensation rocked her, completely sapping her strength. She collapsed onto the bed, helped in no small measure by Bastien’s firm push. She cried out, her back arching off the bed as he suckled.
Ana should have felt ashamed—embarrassed at the wanton, pagan pleasure she was taking in the act being performed on her. But sheer bliss beyond her imagining had taken over. Her thighs fell apart and Bastien moved between them, his body surging closer as he continued to create magic between her legs.
Her flesh tingled, tightened with minute, unfamiliar spasms that shortened her already depleted breath. The intensity of her reaction stunned her into screaming.
The sound spurred Bastien on. He laid his mouth against her, teasing the ultra-sensitive place that finally sent her over the edge. She was vaguely aware of thrashing on the bed, unable to stop the fierce waves of ecstasy rolling through her, or to stop her fists from pounding against the sheets as she broke free and crashed in a blaze of fiery wonder.
Gentle hands soothed her, brought her slowly back to reality. Opening her eyes, she encountered Bastien’s smouldering gaze. She was lying against the pillows, both legs trapped underneath his more powerful, hair-roughened one. He leaned on one elbow and with his free hand reached up to caress the damp hair away from her temple.
‘You’re so incredibly responsive, ma petite,’ he husked out, his voice sandpaper-rough.
‘That unbridled passion you hate?’
‘That unbridled passion I don’t mind so much in bed. Perhaps even a little bit out of it.’
He swooped and devoured her gasp. He cradled her skull, imprisoning her, all the better to ravage her lips. Fresh, potent arrows of lust shot through her, invigorating her lulled senses, bringing them back to life. Her moan was smothered beneath their frenzied kiss. Her hands settled on the firm skin of his back. The need to feel every inch of him was a powerful urge tripping through her.
Bastien made a sound: half-growl, half-encouragement. She traced the skin on the small of his back. When he moaned again she ventured lower, clasped his taut buttocks.
It was only when he reared over her, settled his powerful frame over her, that Ana realised her panties were missing. Bastien’s thick arousal nudged against her, its hot, potent force sending a momentary pang of anxiety spiking through her.
Sensing it immediately, Bastien eased his mouth from hers and gazed down at her. ‘You need not worry, Ana. Trust me. I won’t hurt you.’
Something melted deep inside her. She exhaled shakily, unable to utter a word past the emotional lump in her throat. Reaching up, she threaded her fingers through the lock of hair that had fallen over his brow.
Bastien kissed his way down her cleavage, changed direction to slowly circle one breast. Waiting for him to reach the hard pinnacle brought its own torture. But finally he took one nipple in his mouth. Her eyes fluttered shut and she gave herself over to her feelings. She touched him everywhere, including that utterly gorgeous hard erection. Her exploration was short-lived when he soon removed her hand and kissed the back of it.
The sight of him sheathing himself flooded her with renewed need.
