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She could understand why he had chosen this place for a honeymoon that wasn’t supposed to have been a real honeymoon. If the aim had been for them to get to at least know one another a bit better, without any atmosphere of romance to muddy the waters, then it couldn’t have been better. Lavish and big enough to be impersonal, vibrant without the danger of intimacy lurking in secluded corners and cosy nooks and crannies.
They were whooshed out into a huge, ornately carpeted corridor with just a handful of doors guarding the most expensive of the suites.
‘Wow.’ That was all Celia could say as the heavy door was pushed open and she walked into a vast open space, all white, from the sprawling U-shaped leather suite to the pale rug on which it sat.
To one side, there was a magnificent circular glass table, big enough to seat eight, and directly in front was a bank of glass to which she was drawn.
The city twinkled far and away and beneath them. She rested her hands on the floor-to-ceiling glass and looked out and then shivered as she saw Leandro’s reflection behind her.
He reached, flattening his palms on either side of hers, locking her in and sending goosebumps racing through her.
The thrill of flirting and the anticipation of where all that flirting was going to lead made her weak at the knees. She turned within the loop of his outstretched arms so that her back was against the glass and she stared up at him, breathing fast, her mouth parted in invitation.
He was wearing a light-coloured shirt, cuffed to the elbows, and low-slung chinos and she undid the buttons of the shirt and pushed her hands to feel the hardness of his chest, roughened with dark hair. She circled her fingers over his flat nipples and felt his sharp intake of breath. She tugged the shirt free of the trousers. His dark eyes held hers and she liked that because she could see the heat of desire burning in the depths, turning her on, fuelling her with the confidence that had been shorn away when she had thought that he no longer wanted her.
‘I’ve wanted to touch you all day,’ he rasped, one hand still planted on the glass while the other did to her what she was doing to him, pushed under the silk blouse to find the front clasp of her bra, which he undid with proficiency.
Her breasts fell full and soft, released from their restraints, and Leandro flung back his head, nostrils flared, eyes half closed as he cupped her breasts in his hands and massaged them.
With a groan he roughly undid the buttons, tugged her blouse free of the matching silk culottes, felt her wriggle against him, unzipping and pulling down, as frantic as he was.
They barely made it to the bedroom.
Clothes were shed on the way, a trail of discarded items that followed them into one of the three rooms, which was dominated by a super-king-size bed complete with drapery.
Celia vaguely took stock of all of this. Yes, she was aware of the size of the bedroom, the pale voile at the windows, the lush deep blue of the carpet and the sleek glossiness of the built-in furniture, but that was all on the periphery of her vision.
Really, she only had eyes for the man who was now standing back, looking at her with such hot longing in his eyes that she wanted to swoon.
They were both naked. She dimly remembered kicking off her panties. The cool air-conditioning made her nipples stiffen.
‘I’ve missed you,’ Leandro half moaned.
My body, Celia knew. Whereshemissed his familiarity and the wonderful essence of him,hemissed her body, missed the sex.
It was something she would have to accept and accept it she would.
Her love was so entwined with lust and desire that she knew that they could never be untangled.
She sighed softly and her eyelids fluttered as he curved his hands smoothly over her waist and then he knelt at her feet and breathed her in.
He smoothed his hand over her belly and kissed it and then he gently eased her legs apart.
Oh, how she had missed this!
She arched back and reached out to clutch at one of the wooden posts of the bed. Then she lifted her leg, resting it on the mattress so that she could accommodate his exploring tongue working its way along her clitoris, teasing it into stiff arousal.
Her fingers curled into his dark hair. When she looked down with slumberous eyes, she was further turned on by the sight of him, moving against her, between her thighs.
He eased a finger into her, two fingers, and between his tongue and his mouth and those fingers, Celia could no longer hold on.
She came fast and hard, spasming against his mouth, her whole body convulsing with the mind-blowing pleasure of her orgasm. She barely recognised the guttural sounds leaving her mouth, but she could feel the hot, prickly flush of the blood rushing through her, as searing as fire.
The strength of her orgasm left her as weak as a kitten but she was still startled when he lifted her off her feet, as though she weighed nothing, and gently put her on the bed.
Their eyes tangled and she could feel her body begin to shift back into gear, could feel that want seep through her. It was an ache between her legs that made her want to rub them together.
‘You are every man’s dream,’ Leandro husked, bending to suckle on one nipple, which turned want back into mindless craving with supersonic speed.
‘That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.’ She laughed softly and tugged him so that they were looking at one another. Then she kissed him. A long, lingering kiss. ‘And it’s your turn now because I’ve missed you too...’
