“I don’t have a condom,” he said, his breath coming out in pants as if he’d just run five miles.
Her mouth opened in a silent O, then turned downward in disappointment. “I don’t either.”
They stared at each other for a second. Leandro was temporarily dumbstruck by the fact that he didn’t fucking care. He wanted her. Fuck. Maybe he even wanted the aftermath.
“I have an IUD. I’m okay and I know that you get tested for the fights. We don’t have to use one,” she said.
His heart pounded and blood roared in his ears. Every warning his vovô had ever told him about women using him for their own gain died a silent death. He held himself over her with one hand and used his other to open her thighs wider. She smiled up at him, and that smile was everything. His whole world was centered on Ashlynn and making her feel good. Dropping his forehead to hers, he lined himself up with her entrance and pushed inside. She was so hot and tight he felt like he was being strangled, but in the best way possible. He moved inside her until he felt resistance and then pulled out before thrusting forward again.
“Am I hurting you?” he whispered, looking into her eyes.
She shook her head and raised her hips. “I need you.”
Those three words nearly slayed him. He hadn’t realized how he’d hoped to hear them from her again until she’d said them. He forced himself to move slowly, determined not to lose control again. He ground his molars together as he worked himself in and out of her, giving her time to stretch around him until he finally slid home. He couldn’t hold back his groan as he sank deep, drawing a moan from her lips. A wave of primal satisfaction came over him and he held still to savor it.
He rocked his hips against her, fingers of pleasure curling up his spine. She cried out and clenched him tight, tightening her grip in his hair. “God, I missed your pussy,” he whispered against her neck. She whimpered and rocked up to meet his next thrust.
“You feel so good inside me. Fuck me, Leandro. Don’t hold back.”
He groaned, completely lost. He couldn’t have held back even if he’d wanted to. Keeping a tight grip on her thigh, he fucked her hard and deep, reveling in her cries of pleasure. Something took hold of him with each one. Something raw and primal. Some instinct that claimed her as his with each deep thrust of his cock. Mine. The word echoed through his head.
She wrapped herself around him tighter, her heel digging into his ass. “God, Leandro,” she cried. “I’m gonna come.”
Those words nearly sent him over the edge. He fucked her harder, making her moan as her pussy clenched and fluttered around him. Her nails dug into him as she screamed. Gratification roared through him and his cock pulsed, coming so hard that he saw stars, but even then he couldn’t stop. He kept moving, drawing out the orgasm for both of them until he fell limp against her.
He’d never had an orgasm so intense. It was like he’d just been playing at sex before, but he now knew he’d been missing a key ingredient: Ashlynn. Like he’d been wandering and now that he’d found her, he was home. When his heart started to slow down and he could pull in a normal breath, he dragged his lips across her cheek and placed a kiss on her mouth, pushing up to look down at her. She smiled at him, her eyes soft and dreamy.
“Sorry.” When she frowned, he said, “About the stairs. I meant to take you to bed, but we didn’t make it.”
She gave a soft laugh. “I didn’t want to wait.” Her palms smoothed over his shoulders, and she tugged at her bottom lip with her teeth. “I’m glad you’re here. When we were going down . . . I thought . . .” She gave a little gasp and swallowed hard as her face nearly crumpled with emotion.
There were light smudges of makeup under her eyes from her earlier tears, but she’d never looked more beautiful to him. His thumb rubbed over her cheekbone and his nose brushed hers as he sought the corner of her mouth. “I’ve got you,” he whispered as he placed a kiss there. “We made it. We’re okay.”
She closed her eyes and nodded in an attempt to compose herself, but he didn’t want a mask she forced herself to wear. He wanted her. Real. And after just having her, real and open, there was no way he going to give her a chance to retreat again. “What did you think about on the plane?”
Her green eyes were bright with unshed tears and emotion. “I thought about my future. Of all the things I want to do but haven’t done. All the fear holding me back and how it’s pointless.” She paused and took in a deep breath as if getting ready to dive into the deep end of the ocean. He sensed that whatever she was about to say could change things, and his heart punched against his ribs as he waited to hear it. “I thought of my grandparents. They spent their lives together and had this amazing love that I’d always wanted to find for myself. But I was too scared to make it happen.”
“What were you afraid of?” he asked to keep her talking, wanting to soak in everything she revealed about herself.
“Of being hurt. Of making the wrong choice.” She shrugged. “But as we were going down, I realized that I was more afraid of not getting the chance to make it happen. I want that so much.” Her palms slid down his chest, as if she were savoring the feel of him, and he liked that he was hers to touch. She blushed and stared at her hands. “This is probably coming out wrong.”
“It’s not wrong.” His voice was husky as he searched her face, eager to hear what she’d say next. He had a feeling he knew where this was going and he wanted it with every fiber of his being.
Her eyes met his again and they were so open and deep that he thought he could drown in them, given half the chance. “I thought about you,” she said. “And how I’ve never felt this way with anyone before. I’d like to find out what we could be to each other.”
She was so brave, saying things that he hadn’t been able to say and didn’t even know how to say. “I want that too, Ashlynn.” He couldn’t think of a single thing he’d ever wanted more.
ASHLYNN LAY IN bed and stared up at her ceiling, her entire body humming, the only sound the soft patter of water from her shower. Her mind flicked back to when she’d lain on her bed in her hotel room, staring at the ceiling after sneaking out of Leandro’s room, and she couldn’t help but notice how different she felt this time. Happy and free of so many of the doubts and fears that had plagued her then.
After her confession on the stairs, she hadn’t been sure what to expect—after all, she didn’t know him that well. Or, at least, she didn’t know the real Leandro that well. She was all too familiar with the persona he put on in public, but she was quickly learning that that wasn’t who he really was. Underneath the cocky, arrogant bravado was a warm, kind, intelligent man.
Who had model-worthy good looks.
And was pretty much a billionaire.
And who had the biggest, thickest, most incredible dick she’d ever had the pleasure of seeing up close.
She slapped a hand over her mouth, fighting back the giddy laugh wanting to burst out of her. Once she’d told him that she wanted to explore what they could have together, he’d carried her up to her room, where they’d spent the past hour touching and talking, kissing and exploring. He’d gotten her off with just his fingers, as though he already knew exactly how to touch her, how to drive her wild.
She glanced over at her nightstand, and more of that giddiness rose up as she took in the surreal sight of Leandro’s stainless steel Rolex sitting there, on top of her little stack of magazines. The tiniest reminder that his world was very, very different from hers. And yet she couldn’t bring herself to worry about it. After surviving a plane crash, something like class differences felt so insignificant.
She tilted her head, glancing at the Rolex’s face and she jolted a little at the time. It was later than she’d realized, almost evening, and Kayla would likely be on her way home soon. Leandro had told her she was free to use his phone while he was in the shower, so she picked it up from where it sat next to his watch and dialed Kayla’s cell phone for the second time that day.
Kayla a
nswered on the third ring, a little breathless. “Hey, everything okay? I was just on my way home.”
Ashlynn bit her lip, feeling suddenly self-conscious. Toying with the hem of the sheet, she nodded. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Better than fine, actually, which is why I’m calling. You can’t stay here tonight.”
“What? Why not?” But before she could answer, Kayla let out a little shriek. “Omigod, he’s there, isn’t he?”
Ashlynn laughed at Kayla’s infectious enthusiasm. “Um, yeah. And I’m hoping he stays tonight.”
“So that must’ve been some business trip,” said Kayla, clearly fishing for details. Ashlynn filled her in on what had happened—the kiss in New York, the date with Jake, their night in Miami—having to pause frequently for Kayla’s excited squeals. By the time she’d told her sister an abbreviated version of the story, she was pretty sure her eardrum was headed for some serious damage.
“I knew something was going on with you,” said Kayla. “The way you were obsessing over your outfit and your hair and makeup, the way your cheeks went pink every time I said his name.”
“You were right,” said Ashlynn, letting her little sister have the victory. Given that she’d turfed her for the night, it was the least she could do.
“Okay, I won’t keep you. Go enjoy sexy fun time with your Brazilian billionaire sex god.”
Ashlynn’s stomach flipped over at Kayla’s words, because after the way he’d looked at her, his eyes so tender and sweet, the way he’d said he wanted to explore their connection too, Leandro really was hers. Maybe not to keep forever and ever, but enough that she could enjoy him and what they had together so that she could figure out if maybe something like forever was in the cards. For once, she felt blissfully at peace with not having everything figured out. Maybe it was the orgasms. Maybe it was the near-death experience. Really, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Leandro was here, naked in her shower, after having fucked her brains out on her stairs, and telling her he wanted to be with her too.
Totally surreal, just like the Rolex sitting on her IKEA nightstand.
She said good-bye to Kayla and hung up just as a horribly off-tune string of Portuguese echoed against the bathroom tiles and through the open door. Ashlynn pressed her fingers to her lips, trying not to laugh as the song—although song was a generous term for the noise coming from the shower—continued. If her ears hadn’t started bleeding from all of Kayla’s shrieking, they were definitely bleeding now.
And yet she didn’t hate the sound of his awful—truly, truly awful—singing, because she loved seeing all these parts of him. Real parts. Human parts. She wanted to know everything about him, including his imperfections. Especially the sweet, innocent ones, like the fact that his singing would have Simon Cowell running for the hills.
Smiling to herself, she slipped out of bed and into the bathroom. She pulled the shower curtain back just enough to poke her head in and took a second to appreciate the sight of soapy rivulets of water running down over Leandro’s bare, muscular ass. He glanced at her over his shoulder, his gaze somewhere between adoring and smoldering. It was a heady combination.
“I thought maybe someone was strangling a cat in here,” she said, sending him a playful smile.
He let out a laugh, his entire face lighting up with it. “What? You don’t like my singing?”
She feigned innocence and widened her eyes. “Oh my God. That was singing?”
He said something in Portuguese and then pulled her into the shower with him, her body colliding with his. Her breasts flattened against his chest, her nipples peaking and sending darts of pleasure downward at the contact.
“If you don’t like my singing, maybe I should find something else to do with my mouth, hmm?” He gently pushed her hair back over her shoulder and trailed slow, teasing kisses down her neck. With a whimper, she tilted her head, giving him better access, wanting to soak up everything he had to give her.
“What were you singing?” she asked, her voice coming out slightly breathless as he nibbled at her ear.
He moved to the other side of her neck, kissing and licking her skin as though she were the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted. “A song called ‘Ai Se Eu Te Pego,’ ” he said, turning her around so that her ass was pressed to his cock. She wiggled against him and he groaned. She loved that she was able to turn him on like that. It made her feel feminine and powerful, sexy and alive.
“What’s it about?” she asked, the last word disappearing into a moan as his soapy hands came up to cup her breasts, his fingers flicking over her nipples. Her entire body tightened, aching for him again. As though no matter what he gave her, she’d always want more.
“The words are about seeing a beautiful woman—the most beautiful woman—and wanting her more than you’ve ever wanted anything. About doing anything to be with her.” He bit at her shoulder, her breasts aching under his soapy caresses. “It felt . . . adequate isn’t the right word, but only about half my blood’s in my brain right now,” he said, his voice getting huskier. His hips worked against her ass, his cock sliding against her wet skin.
Her heart melted. She loved this sweet side of him, this side that only she got to see. It hit her then just how quickly she was falling for him.
“It felt fitting?” she suggested, widening her stance as one of his hands slid down over her belly to cup her mound.
“Mmm. Yes,” he said, parting her lips with one finger. “Fitting.” His fingers gently circled her clit, and her heart melted even more at the way he was always so gentle with her. At first. Her smile widened, heat flushing through her as she thought of how that gentleness always gave way to rougher, more possessive movements as he lost control.
She tipped her head back against his shoulder as he worked her clit in perfect little circles, pinching it lightly and drawing a gasp from her. “I love how you respond to me, minha linda. Like you were meant to be mine,” he said, his voice rumbling over her skin.
God, she was so lost with him, but in the best possible way. The kind of lost where new things could be found. Giving in to her feelings for Leandro wasn’t scary—it was freeing in a way she’d never experienced before. Somehow, everything was different with him. Bigger and brighter and more exciting. She’d never felt like this about anyone before, and in the past, her excitement would’ve scared her because it meant she wasn’t in control, but she didn’t want to run from Leandro. Every fiber of her being was telling her to trust him, to let him in.
She felt surrounded by him with his hand on her breast, his other hand between her legs, his strong, solid body behind her, but it made her feel safe, cocooned away with him in her shower, as though they were the only two people in the world. It was a feeling she didn’t want to let go.
“Will you stay? Tonight?” she asked, focusing on getting the words out through the heat churning through her core.
He slid a finger inside her, curling it and stroking her from the inside. “The idea of leaving hadn’t even occurred to me.”
“Even though you don’t even have a change of clothes?”
She felt him smile against the skin of her neck. “I don’t think we’ll be needing any clothes. Not tonight. Not this weekend.”
She moaned as he added a second finger, and she managed to nod lazily. “Yes. God, Leandro, yes.”
He let out a low, approving groan and then slid his hand down from her breast, over her hip, and to her ass. He gave one of her cheeks a firm squeeze before slipping his hand between her cheeks, his touch featherlight. She gasped as the tips of his fingers brushed over her, surprised at the pleasure curling through her at that forbidden touch.
“Oh, fuck,” she breathed, pushing back against his hand. He groaned again, and then circled her tight entrance with an excruciatingly gentle touch. She moaned and clenched at his fingers inside her. He mumbled a string of growly Portuguese, fucking her with his fingers, playing with her ass as she whimpered and moaned, squirming against the onslaught of pl
easure from his touch. He owned her completely as she dissolved into a throbbing mess of need.
“Has anyone ever had you here, Ashlynn?” he asked, his voice rough. He pushed the very tip of one finger in, the slight burn mixed with a sharp, radiating pleasure.
She shook her head, letting out a shuddery gasp as he retreated and then pushed in just a little bit farther, his finger slick with soap.
“But you like this? Me taking your ass, touching you here?”
She’d never experimented with that before, but she wanted to give him every part of herself. She bit her lip and nodded rapidly. “Uh-huh,” she groaned. He circled her clit faster, establishing a rhythm that had her on the brink of losing her mind.
“Fuck,” he whispered, his tone almost reverent. He curled the two fingers buried in her pussy and slid his other finger farther into her ass. The pressure building inside her snapped free, and she came on his hands, riding the waves of pleasure crashing through her until her legs were shaking, her muscles stiff. He kissed her neck and shoulders as she came down, gently withdrawing his hands from her. She blinked, trying to find herself again.
Reaching behind her, she circled her fingers around his cock and squeezed. “If you think this would fit up there, you’re crazy.” But she had to admit that she was both intrigued and aroused at the idea, and what he’d just done had definitely felt good. More than good. He’d been gentle, had made sure she liked it before he’d gone further. She knew that she could trust him with her body, and that made her want to trust him with her heart.
He laughed, but the sound was a little strained, probably because he needed release of his own. “Minha linda, I would never pressure you to do something you don’t want to do. I just want to make you feel good.”
God, he was giving her so much sweetness, so much tenderness, that she barely knew what to do with it. She stroked him, and he thrust against her hand.
No Contest Page 17