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“I like hearing you beg me,” he said against her cheek. “If you promise to do more of that later, I’ll let you off the hook now.”
“I don’t know what I’d beg for then,” she replied breathlessly.
“Leave that to me.”
The speed increased and she clenched her thighs together to ward off the incipient orgasm. “Okay, yes, I’ll beg later!”
His teeth tugged at her ear lobe. “Good girl.”
He thumbed off the remote and she sagged against him in relief, then felt a little bad about getting oil on his pricey suit. When she tried to pull back, though, he held her there. “You smell like coconuts, sunshine and hot woman. I’d love to bend you over this railing and fuck you right here until you scream with pleasure.”
Her heart thudded. “That might not be great for the resort’s reputation.”
“True.” He released her, gaze raking down her bosom, intense enough that she wondered if the suit had slipped and she was inadvertently showing a nipple. “And we have tea to indulge in. Unless you would like to spend more time by the pool?”
“Tea sounds great—though hot.”
He chuckled, escorted her to the cabana and waited while she gathered her things. “You don’t have to drink actual tea, unless you want to.”
“That sounds even better. What should I wear?”
“You’re wearing it, Roo.” His hand slid down her back under the loose weave of the cover-up and he guided her up the steps. “And, if I have my way, you won’t be wearing that for long.”
* * *
“Tea” turned out to be an intimate table on the deck of his penthouse suite. Not his, he explained. The owner’s suite. The family used it when in town—or loaned it out to special guests. The spectacular panorama of sun and sea was embraced by the open-air abode, with walls made of glass or folding shutters.
They sat at a table under a gold umbrella next to his private pool, catching the breezes. Tilda went for the icy champagne offered by the waiter and surveyed the array of bite-sized sandwiches, scones, cookies and tempting bites like melted cheese on toast with both hunger and alarm. A silver bowl mounded with clotted cream sat near the scones and she recalled Miguel’s note, her already drenched sex reacting. Looking up, she found he was watching her with hot eyes, lips twisted in a half-smile of anticipation as he followed her train of thought.
She filled her plate while he dismissed the server, clapping the young man on the shoulder and telling him they’d ring if they needed him. Miguel returned to her, setting his hands on her shoulders under the ends of her hair, thumbs tangling with the tie of her bikini top.
“I think you should take this off.”
She shivered under the sensual caress. “I’m already wearing a lot less than you are.”
“Are you saying no? Recall that there are consequences for refusing.”
Her nipples hardened. “No. I mean—take it off.”
His fingers worked the tie, brushing her skin, sending flickers of increasing arousal through her. The top loosened, then dropped away, exposing her breasts.
“Lean forward,” he murmured and untied the rest when she did. He tossed the top aside and he returned to his seat across from her, taking in her naked glory. “In Spain, all women go topless at the beach. It’s a pity North America is so stuffy about it.”
She fiddled with her champagne glass, feeling odd to be wearing nothing but her skimpy bikini bottom.
“Not hungry?”
She shrugged, then regretted it when the movement made her bare breasts bounce. “Just a little self-conscious, I guess.”
“Is that so? Come here then, pretty Roo.”
He scooted his chair back and patted his lap. She hesitated and his eyes fired with a bright light. “Disobeying? You know I’m looking for an excuse to spank your pretty ass. Maybe that’s what you need to relax around me.”
“I don’t think I want to be spanked at all,” she blurted.
“No? But you’re still playing by my rules, so come sit on my lap or I will turn you over my knee. Bring your glass.”
She stood and walked around the table,
