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And then Rodolfo slowed down. His kiss turned lazy. Deep, drugging—but he made no attempt to move any closer. He kept his hands on the wall.
After several agonies of this same stalling tactic, Natalie tore her lips from his, jittery and desperate.
“Please...” she whispered.
His mouth chased hers, tipped up in the corners as he sampled her, easy and slow. Teasing her, she understood then. As if this was some kind of game, and one he could play all night long. As if she was the only one being burned to a crisp where she stood. Over and over again.
“Please, what?” he asked against her mouth, an undercurrent of laughter making her hot and furious and decidedly needy all at once. “I think you can do better than that.”
“Please...” she tried again, and then lost her train of thought when his mouth found the line of her jaw.
Natalie shivered as he dropped lower, trailing fire down the side of her neck and somehow finding his way to every sensitive spot she hadn’t known she had. And then he used his tongue and his teeth to taunt her with each and every one of them.
“You will have to beg,” he murmured against her flushed, overwarm skin, and she could feel the rumble of his voice deep inside of her, low in her belly where all that heat seemed to bloom into a desperate softness that made her knees feel weak. “So that later, there can be no confusion, much as you may wish there to be. Beg me,princesita.”
Natalie told herself that she would do no such thing. Of course not. Her mother had raised a strong, tough, independent woman who did notbeg,and especially not from a man like this. Prince Charming at his most dangerous.
But she was writhing against him. She was unsteady and wild and out of her mind, and all she wanted was his hands on her. All she wanted wasmore.And she didn’t care what that made her. How could she? She hardly knew who the hell she was.
“Please, Rodolfo,” she whispered, because it was the only way she could get her voice to work, that betraying little rasp. “Please, touch me.”
His teeth grazed her bare shoulder, sending a wild heat dancing and spinning through her, until it shuddered into the scalding heat at her core and made everything worse.
Or better.
“I am already touching you.”
“With your hands.” And her voice was little more than a moan then, which ought to have embarrassed her. But she was far beyond that. “Please.”
She thought he laughed then, and she felt that, too, like another caress. It wound through her, stoking the flames and making her burn brighter, hotter. So hot she worried she might simply...explode.
And then Rodolfo dropped his arms from the wall, leaning closer to her as he did. He took her jaw in his hand and guided her mouth to his. The kiss changed, deepened, losing any semblance of laziness or control. Natalie welcomed the crush of his chest against her, the contrast between all his heat and the cool metal at her back. She wound her arms around his neck and held on to all that corded strength as he claimed her mouth over and over, as if he was as starved for her as she was for him.
She hardly dared admit how very much she wanted that to be true.
With his other hand, he reached down and began pulling up the long skirt of her dress. He took his time, plundering her mouth as he drew the hem higher and higher. She felt the faintest draft against her calf. Her knee. Then her thigh, and then his hand was on her flesh again, the way it had been that day in the palace.
Except this time, he didn’t leave it one place.
He continued to kiss her, again and again, as he smoothed his way up her thigh, urging her legs apart. And Natalie felt torn in two. Ripped straight down the center by the intensity of the hunger that poured through her, then. A tumult of need and hunger and the wild flame within her that Rodolfo kept burning at a fever pitch.
When his seeking fingers reached the edge of the satiny panties she wore, he lifted his head just slightly, taking his mouth away from her. It felt like a blow. Like a loss almost too extreme to survive.
It hurts to breathe,Natalie thought dimly, still lost in the mad commotion happening everywhere in her body. Still wanting him—needing him—almost more than she could bear.
“I will make it stop,” Rodolfo said, and she realized with a start that she’d spoken out loud. His mouth crooked slightly in one corner. “Eventually.”
And then he dipped his fingers beneath the elastic of her panties and found the heat of her.
Natalie gasped as he stroked his way through her folds, bold and sure, directly into her softness. His other hand was at her neck, his thumb moving against her skin there the way his clever fingers played with her sex below. He traced his way around the center of her need, watching her face as she clutched at his broad wrist—but only to maintain that connection with him, not to stop him. Never that. Not now.
And then, without warning, he twisted his wrist and drove two fingers into her, that hard curve of his mouth deepening when she moaned.
“Like that, princess,” he murmured approvingly. “Sing for me just like that.”
And Natalie lost track of what he was doing, and how. He dropped his head to her neck again, teasing his way down to toy with the top of her bodice. He dragged his free hand over her nipples, poking hard against the fabric of the dress, and it was like lightning storming straight down the center of her body to where she was already little more than a flame. And he was stoking that fire with every thrust of his long, blunt fingers deep into her, as if he knew. As if he knew everything. Her pounding heart, that slick, impossible pleasure crashing over her, and that delicious tightening that was making her breath come too fast and too loud.
She lost herself in the slide, the heat. His wicked, talented hands and what they were doing to her. Her hips lifted of their own accord, meeting each stroke, and then the storm took her over. She let her head fall back against the elevator doors. She let herself go, delivering herself completely into his hands, as if there was nothing but this slick, insistent rhythm. As if there was nothing but the sensation he was building in her, higher and higher.
