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His sensual mouth lowered on hers, hot and demanding, pushing her lips apart. She felt the delicious sweep of his tongue, and the cold winter air between them heated to a thousand degrees.
She’d never been kissed like this before. Never. The tepid caresses she’d endured seven years ago were nothing compared to this ruthlessly demanding embrace, this—dark fire.
She was lost in his arms, in the hot demand of his mouth, of his hands everywhere. Desire swept through her, a tidal wave of need that drowned all thought and reason. She forgot to think, forgot her own name.
She’d never known it could be like this...
She responded uncertainly at first, then soon gripped his shoulders, clutching him to her.
All her hatred for Santiago, all her earlier misery, transformed to heat as he kissed her in the dark winter night on the edge of the sea, invisible waves crashing noisily against the shore.
She didn’t know how long they clung to each other in the cold night, seconds or hours, but when he finally drew away, she knew she’d never be the same. Their breath mingled in the dappled moonlight.
They stared at each other for a split second as scattered snowflakes started to fall.
Wordlessly, he took her hand and pulled her toward the house. She heard the crunch of frozen snow beneath her scuffed black flats, felt the warmth of his hand over hers.
They entered the nineteenth-century mansion, with its dark oak paneling and antique furniture. Inside, it was dark and quiet; it seemed everyone, including the household staff, had gone to bed. Santiago closed the tall, heavy door behind them and punched a code into the security system.
They rushed up the back stairs, hardly able to stop kissing long enough to stumble to the second floor.
Belle shivered. She couldn’t be doing this. Impulsively offering her virginity to a man she didn’t even like, let alone love?
But as he pulled her into a guest bedroom at the far end of the hall, she couldn’t even catch her breath. His long black coat fell to the floor, and he pulled her into his arms. Cupping her face in his hands, he ran his thumbs along her swollen lower lip.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, running his hands through her long brown hair tangled with ice and snowflakes. “Beautiful, and mine...”
Lowering his mouth to hers, he kissed her hungrily. Heat flooded through Belle, making her breasts heavy, swirling low and deep in her core. His hands stroked her deliciously, mesmerizing her with sensation, and by the time she realized he was unzipping her black dress, it was already falling to the floor.
An hour ago, she’d hated him; now she was half-naked in his bedroom.
Setting her back onto his bed, he pulled off his suit jacket, vest and tie. He never took his eyes off her as he unbuttoned his black shirt. His bare chest was chiseled and muscular, curving in the light and shadow. Falling beside her on the bed, he pulled her against him with a growl, kissing her with a hot embrace. He nibbled down her throat, and she tilted her head against the pillow, closing her eyes. He cupped each breast over her white cotton bra and reached beneath the fabric to stroke and thrum the aching nipples beneath.
Unhooking her bra, he tossed it to the floor and lowered his head to suckle one breast, then the other. The sensation was so sharp and wild and new that she gasped, gripping his shoulders tightly.
Moving up, he covered her gasping lips with his own, plundering her mouth before he slowly kissed down her body to her flat, naked belly. His tongue flicked her belly button. Then he kept going down further still.
His hands gripped her hips. He nuzzled between her legs, and she felt the warmth of his breath between her thighs. He held her firmly, gently pressing her legs apart, kissing each of her thighs before he pulled her panties off. Pushing her thighs apart, he teased her with his warm breath, then, with agonizing slowness, he lowered his mouth and tasted her.
The pleasure was so unexpected and explosive that her fingernails dug into his shoulders as his tongue slid against her, hot and wet.
Holding her hips, he worked her with his tongue until she gripped the blanket beneath her, holding her breath until she started to see stars. He licked her softly one moment, then the next plunged his tongue inside her. She heard a voice cry out, and realized the voice was hers.
He swirled his tongue against her, increasing his rhythm and pressure until her back started arching from the bed. He pushed a single thick finger inside her, then two, stretching her wide. She gasped as the pleasure built almost too high to bear. Higher—higher—then—
Soaring to the sky, she exploded into a million pieces, falling to the earth in gently chiming shards. It was like nothing she’d ever experienced. It was pure joy.
Lifting up from her, he ripped off the last of his clothes. Positioning himself between her legs, he gripped her naked hips. As she was still gasping with pleasure, he pushed his huge, thick shaft inside her.
* * *
He’d dreamed of this.
For four months, Santiago had dreamed of seducing the sinfully beautiful woman who’d made it such a point to scorn him. He’d dreamed of having her deliciously full curves in his arms, her body naked beneath his. He’d dreamed of kissing her full pink lips and seeing her lovely face darken with ecstasy. He’d dreamed of taking her, filling her, satiating himself with her.
But now, as he finally pushed inside her, he felt a barrier he had not expected. He froze. He’d never once dreamed of this.
“You’re a virgin?” he breathed in shock.
