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She drank in the sight of him, aroused to an impossible degree. She moaned, not noticing the blood where she bit her lip as, head flung back, her spine arched and she eagerly assisted in the removal of the last of her own clothing that hadn’t already gone or been shredded.

Expectation built inside her, stretching her senses beyond limit as he stared down at her, eating her up with his eyes. There was a wildness in him that awoke the same response within her.

Her mouth opened to the slow erotic intrusion of his questing tongue, as the first skin to skin contact drew a low moan from her lips. Her nostrils flared as she breathed in the hot male musk of his skin, feeling her breasts crushed against his hair-roughened chest. His hands slid under her bottom, drawing her up, increasing the mind-blowing erotic pressure of his rock-hard erection against the softness of her belly. She slid her hand down and he leaned back to allow it to curl around the hot silky hardness, her fingers stroking and tightening until he grabbed her wrist and tipped her onto her back, whispering hoarsely, ‘For pity’s sake, woman.’

Elsie surrendered to sensation, to him, as fingertips touched hot skin, while teeth clashed and moans meshed. The savage hunger of his mouth was interspersed with soul-sucking moments of tenderness as she gave herself up totally to sensation—to Leandro.

Leandro was not just clinging to his control; he was clinging to his sanity. A man could only hold his breath so long before the biological instinct to claim life-sustaining oxygen took over and his needs, his instinct, to claim this woman was just as embedded.

As he rolled with her onto his side she looped one leg over his hip, giving him access to the slick heat between her legs. She arched against him, biting his lip, her hands clawed as she clung to him and moaned, exquisitely sensitive to his every touch.

Everything was about sensation and need, the primal need to absorb her, have her absorb him, the need she awoke hurt—it hurt to acknowledge the loneliness she exposed inside him that he felt above the roar of desire pumping around his body.

‘I can’t bear this…’ she moaned, her face buried in his neck, her nails inscribing half-moons on his shoulders.

‘You can, I promise…you can…’

She felt the satiny tip of his hot shaft nudge where her frustration was centred and she shifted restlessly against him. The tenderness mingled with the ferocity of his kisses brought tears to her eyes in response to the nameless emotional wrenching inside her, the sheer exhilaration of surrendering to sensation wanting more—wanting all of him.

‘You’re crying?’

She blinked at the accusation and didn’t bother to check if it was true; she didn’t care. She only cared about one thing and he was withholding it. It was cruel—he was bloody cruel.

The bright circles of colour on her cheeks exaggerated her pallor as, jaw clenched in determination, she slid her hands down his slick back until she reached his taut behind. Gripping hard, she tried to pull him down as she crossed her legs over his back and he lost any control and slid into her slickness.

The effort of controlling his passion, fighting the instinct to thrust deep and hard, to make this good for her, made him shake. She was just so hot and incredibly tight, so…astonished?

The thought was drowned out by the blood roaring in his ears and as she rose to meet him halfway he gave in to the pounding in his blood.

He felt her come under him, cry his name, and allowed himself the release.

Elsie floated back down to earth, her shattered senses slowly realigning with reality. Leandro had rolled off her and he lay on his back, his chest heaving, his skin slick with sweat.

‘Is it always like that?’

He turned his head. ‘I can honestly say not like that. How about you?’

‘Not really…’

‘How many lovers have you had, Elsie?’

‘What is this?’ she began spikily then, as their eyes connected, the fight left her. ‘None… What can I say—I was just waiting for a ring?’

‘You haven’t got a ring yet.’ He felt her laugh and snuggle closer. ‘Seriously, Elsie…’

‘No, there is no trauma. I just… We grew tall early, but I didn’t fill out anywhere else and anyway Emily had her Mark. I got into other things. I was a bit of a swot really.’

‘But you didn’t go to university.’

‘I learnt on the job. I dated a few times, obviously, but things never… I got told I was frigid, but I assumed that, well, it just seemed that I’m not a very sexual person.’

The laughter began deep in his chest, rising until it became a bellow. Elsie’s lips twitched and before long she was laughing too, her whole body shaking, tears running down her face.

As the laughter faded, shock and wondering amazement filled the vacuum it left. She had never imagined that surrender could feel this empowering and she had surrendered utterly, not just to him but to her own passion and need.

There was no going back to the person she had been… It had been more than just physical, and recognising it left her feeling vulnerable.

‘Are you OK?’ he asked huskily.