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She curled her fingers into his thick hair and pushed on the back of his head, straining upwards so that her mouth met his.
It was the worst kiss ever. She banged his teeth and bit her own lip in the process. But she didn’t stop. She refused to. And slowly her clumsy attempt grew into something more sensual, more skilful. Sexier.
His lips softened, his mouth opened. He let her in.
She made the most of it—tasting him, teasing with her tongue the way he’d done to her. Heat slicked her body again and she grew restless. The pain subsided. Now she only ached for him to move.
He tore his lips from hers and looked into her eyes for a long, silent moment.
‘Please,’ she whispered.
Finally his hesitation went up in smoke and determination exploded within him. He kissed her again. Holding the rest of himself still, he plundered her mouth. Then he moved fractionally lower, bracing and bending to kiss her puckered nipple. He scraped the sensitive nub with his teeth. An arrow of pleasure shot to her sex, making her slick. And at last he moved. A slow, gentle, rolling motion of his hips. Easily, his big body slipped slightly further inside hers.
She moaned. She wanted more.
To really ride.
But still he moved slowly. He teased a hand between them, rubbing around her most sensitive spot with torturously gentle fingers—just enough to make her scream. She was so close. So insanely close. But as he pleasured her, the desire to please him sank deeper within her. She wanted to know that he felt this magic to the degree she did.
She cupped his jaw. ‘Eduardo.’
No matter that he hadn’t given her leave to address him by his Christian name. No matter that he was a prince and she a nobody. In this moment there was nothing but naked joy. No past, no promises. Nothing but now.
She groaned. ‘Please.’
She wanted him to move faster again, as he had before, when he’d been clothed and rocking against her. She spread her hands wide on his butt, squeezing the tight muscles, feeling the bunched strength of him slowly pumping into her.
It was so carnal. So delightful. Utterly unlike anything she’d known. And utterly addictive.
She didn’t want it to end. Yet she wanted something more so badly. She wanted him to feel this completion with her.
She moaned in frustration as he kept the pace infuriatingly yet tantalisingly slow. She could no longer form words, no longer think. She could only moan and strive to kiss him more.
Finally he moved faster. His thrusts became rougher. He cupped her buttocks with both his hands now, holding her so he could grind into her as deep as he could drive himself. The hold plastered him against her, sealing them tight together.
She loved it. She met his thrusts with hers, over and over, their bodies wet with sweat now rather than sea water. Her fingers curled, clawing into his skin.
‘Look at me,’ he ordered harshly through tightly clenched teeth.
She already was. She couldn’t look away. She’d never been able to look away.
His eyes bored into hers, their blue irises obliterated by passion-inflamed pupils. Only then her vision swam as her orgasm finally slammed into her like a wave sweeping over a rudderless yacht. She was capsized into a tumultuous sea of sensation.
His expression tightened almost to pain as he worked to hold his own release at bay. Instinctively she understood that he wanted to make her succumb once more before he did. But all she wanted was to feel his unrestrained passion. Somehow she had to summon it.
As her orgasm ebbed and feelings of bliss stole into every cell she fought harder, her fingers bruising, her mouth sucking, her tongue licking. She sought to touch him all over, to pull him over the edge with her. She poured every ounce of power she had into the passion she felt. Into somehow showing him what she wanted. And needed.
That was when she finally felt his massive body shaking—when his roar reverberated into her mouth as he gave in to it and released his hold on himself. His final thrusts came in a torrent of fury and lust. His satisfaction spurted. He shouted loud and rough, and sent her tumbling into the velvety hot darkness again.
He rested for only a moment. His breath blew hot and quick on her neck. Then his biceps bunched as he braced and pulled free of her embrace.
Suddenly empty and cold, she remained prone on the sand and shielded her eyes with her arm. She didn’t want to answer the questions she knew he was going to throw at her.
But he didn’t savage her. There was only silence.
Eventually she lowered her hand, forcing herself to look at him.
He was watching her face intently, and then ever so slowly he gazed down her body. The expression in his eyes was bleak and forbidding. She sat up, but it was too late to hide. The smear of rust-coloured blood on her thigh was incontrovertible evidence. But he already knew the truth.
