She didn’t want to feel like this. Deep down she knew that she should be fighting it. But whatever logic and common sense arguments she should have in her head had been eclipsed the moment his lips had touched hers.
Her heart seemed to slide sideways. She could still feel Luis’s gaze, his dark grey eyes seeking her out, impossible to ignore, futile to resist.
She turned towards him, her breath hot and scratchy in her throat. He held her gaze and then slowly lowered his
mouth back to hers, kissed her again.
Cristina moaned as heat exploded inside her. Her lips parted and she was kissing him back, her hands seeking out the warm muscles of his arms, her fingers curling into the fabric of her shirt.
It would have been a lie to say that she had forgotten what it felt like to be kissed by him. She hadn’t. She’d dreamed about it so often and so intensely that some mornings she’d woken and reached across the bed to find him. But she saw now that no dream could match the reality of Luis’s warm, firm body against hers.
She shook with need as he opened her lips, deepening the kiss, his mouth claiming hers, his hand curving around her waist and pressing her against the hard breadth of his chest. And then his fingers splayed against her back, anchoring her closer, and he was tipping her head, kissing down her neck.
Her stomach tensed and she squirmed against him, wanting more, feeling the pulse beneath her skin and between her legs urgent now.
As though reading her thoughts, Luis tightened his hands around her waist and in her hair, and then they were stumbling backwards towards her bed.
Panting, she pulled him closer, her fingers curling into his belt, clumsily plucking at the buckle. His low groan made her legs start to shake.
Breathing unevenly, he dropped the portfolio on the table by the bed and began pulling at the buttons on her blouse. She felt cool air on her skin and, whimpering, let her head fall back, her eyes seeking something solid to combat the dizzying effect of the heat soaking her skin.
She blinked. Her portfolio was lying on the table, where he’d dropped it, but some of the photos had fallen to the floor. Her heartbeat slowing, she stared at them dazedly.
Suddenly her breath felt like concrete in her chest. She wanted to look away but she couldn’t. Her eyes wouldn’t let her.
Maybe if it had been another photo… But how could she expect to block that image out?
She stared miserably at the photograph. That briefcase had changed her life. Or rather opening it had. Had totally destroyed everything she had believed to be true. Two letters and a snapshot had been all it took to stop her world from turning.
Her body must have frozen, for she felt Luis grow still against her and she breathed in sharply, her hands shrinking back from his body.
Where moments earlier there had been sweet pulsing heat, now panic was rising inside her.
What the hell had she been thinking?
Had she really been going to have sex with Luis again?
Last time had been stupid, but forgivable. She hadn’t known his real identity. Or that he was happy to lie about who he was. But she had known the truth since the moment he had walked into his parents’ sitting room.
Briefly she closed her eyes. So either she was stupid or she was genetically determined to follow the disastrous path her mother had taken. Either way, the outcome would be the same. Pain, humiliation, rejection.
‘Cristina—’
The urgency in his voice cut into her thoughts and, gazing up at him, she took a shaky step backwards. ‘This is wrong.’
Luis stared at her in confusion. Wrong? Wrong? What did she mean? Her words didn’t seem compatible with the painfully aroused state of his body.
Somewhere inside what was currently functioning as his brain, he tried to make sense of what she’d said.
‘Ah, you’re not protected?’ He frowned. ‘I have condoms in my room…’
Cristina felt heat spread over her face. She had been so frantic, so lost in her own responses, that she hadn’t even considered whether she was protected or not. That had never happened—ever—and it was one more reason why this had to stop. Now.
She shook her head, trying to focus on something other than his handsome face. It didn’t help that her longing for him was still clawing inside her like a frightened animal.
‘No, it’s not that. It’s this—us. We shouldn’t be doing this—’
Because…?’ he said slowly.