He breathed in sharply. His jaw was taut with concentration, the muscles in his arms and chest bunching as she began to rock back and forth, her breath quickening in her throat as his fingers moved between her thighs, working in time to the fervent, pulsing ache there.
His eyes locked on hers—dark, rapt, blazing. ‘Mírame! Look at me,’ he said, his voice hoarse.
She was fighting for control. Heat was gathering inside her and she clutched frantically at his arms, pulling him closer and then pushing him away, needing to let go but wanting to make it last for ever.
Her muscles clenched, her breathless body gripping his. She felt his hands catch in her hair and suddenly she couldn’t bear it any longer. Arching against him, she tensed against the heat and the hardness, shuddering helplessly. He groaned, pushing against her, seeking more depth, and then, gasping into her mouth, he thrust upwards.
CHAPTER THREE
SLOWLY CÉSAR BREATHED OUT, his eyes blinking open. For a moment he didn’t know where he was—and then he remembered. He must have fallen asleep for a moment, lulled by the languid warmth of her body and the sudden heaviness of his own limbs.
Fixing his eyes on the ceiling, he frowned. It had been a long time since he had held a woman close like this, more than a decade, at least. But then today had been exceptional for any number of reasons.
His chest tightened as he felt the most exceptional of those reasons shift beside him.
Glancing down at her naked body curled around his, he felt his pulse accelerate. He’d just done the one thing he’d sworn never to do again—he’d let his libido dictate his actions.
He grimaced. As if he needed any reminding about the consequences of that youthful, humiliating indiscretion. They were branded in his conscience and he could still feel his parents’ shock and disappointment across the years. After he’d made such a fool of himself with Celia he’d sworn never to let a woman get under his skin. And he’d kept his promise.
Until today.
Until...
He gritted his teeth. Maldita sea! Thanks to his sudden and completely uncharacteristic loss of self-control he didn’t even know her name, but the strength and speed of his desire had caught him unawares. He should have fobbed her off on the road. Better still, he should have called Andreas, his head of security, and let him deal with her. It was his job, after all. But instead he’d let himself be distracted by a curving pink mouth.
He could have called a halt when she’d leaned forward and kissed him with that same perfect, pink mouth, but as her lips had melted against his, his brain, his body, his self-control had gone into meltdown. His past, his promises had been forgotten. Nothing had mattered but her. His whole being had been fixed on the need to touch and taste every inch of her, and even now his still-hungry body was clamouring for more.
But perfect pink lips could still lie and deceive and frankly there was no need for him to go there again. He might have been young, but he was a quick learner—and that lesson had been well and truly drummed into him.
His mouth twisted. So what now?
As though she could hear his thoughts, the woman shifted against him, and instantly his groin began to ache. Reluctant to reveal the hard proof of her ability to turn him on, he started to move. But she was already inching backwards, peeling her damp skin away from his and scooping up the muddle of clothes from the floor in one graceful movement.
Was she practised at this?
The thought snagged in his head and then he pushed it quickly away. It was none of his business, and besides he wasn’t in any position to judge.
‘Here,’ she murmured. ‘These are yours.’
Looking up, he gritted his teeth.
She was pulling her blouse over her head and, catching a glimpse of her pale, curving breast, he felt his skin twitch, his body hardening and aching with a sudden, sharp, serrated hunger. She looked impossibly sexy, and suddenly the heated, passion-filled minutes of earlier felt like just a taster before the main meal.
He wanted more. He wanted to feel that soft skin next to his and the whisper of her breath against his mouth.
He felt another twitch of desire—although this time it might just as easily have been irritation.
Obviously he wanted more.
His last ‘relationship’ had ended a little over seven weeks ago and, having been flat out at work ever since, trying to resolve this damned trademark dispute, he’d neglected his personal life. Although, given how hard he tried to maintain boundaries, maybe impersonal life might be a better description.
Either way, to put it bluntly he hadn’t had sex in a long time, and this beautiful, uninhibited woman standing in front of him had stirred his hunger.
So what if she had?
It had happened, and it had been incredible. Better than incredible, he thought, his heartbeat jerking as their tangle on the sofa replayed inside his head. And he wasn’t going to pretend that he wouldn’t willingly pull her back onto that sofa and carry on where they’d left off. Or deny that she was attractive, or that he was attracted to her. But whatever this was—this thing he was feeling, this unruly, insistent enchantment that had sneaked up on him unannounced—he wasn’t going to act on it again, no matter how hollowed out with longing he felt.
In fact, his unprecedented physical response only increased his determination to stay cool and detached. For he’d already made the mistake of trusting his body before, and his libido had been proved a poor judge of character.