“Have you forgotten something?” she murmured into his ear before running her tongue up his neck.
A condom! In his haste to be inside her he’d completely forgotten. How could he? He never took those kind of risks. God knows, there were enough women out there wanting to trap him by having his wealthy heir that he was always extra careful. He reached for his wallet in his trouser pocket, pulled out a condom, and sheathed himself.
Then, tightening his grip around her waist, he pulled her gently down onto him. She gasped, and he paused, not wanting to hurt her.
“Keep going,” she whispered.
He obeyed and pulled her deeper onto him, watching her face as she accepted his cock into her body. Her lips parted; her eyes closed. A groan escaped the back of her throat, and she arched her back, pushed her breasts into his chin, and wrapped her arms around his neck.
He was fully inside her now and exhaled the breath he’d been holding, allowing his body to flood with the pleasure of the sensation. He buried his head between her breasts and pulled her closer. She was glistening with fresh sweat, and he could taste the salt on her skin mixed in with the remnants of the day’s fresh, floral perfume.
He let her dictate the pace to start with and enjoyed the show of her sliding up and down his shaft. She was unaware he was watching so intently. Her head was tipped back, and she bit her lip. Just the sight of her in the midst of her sexual abandon made him want to come, but he held it back. He wanted to savor this view of her riding him for as long as possible. The strength of her fleshy inner walls hugging his cock drove him insane. This was one experience he had no intention of rushing.
Gradually, she built up her rhythm, and her moans increased in volume and urgency. His dick touched her sweet spot. It was almost his undoing. He gripped her waist and took over the pace, pulling her up and down him. Her nails dug into his shoulders. The moment was now.
He wrapped his arms around her, pulled her onto him, and clung to her tightly. He wouldn’t let her ride back up this time. He squeezed his eyes shut and prepared for the longed-for release. His mind fogged, and all he could think about was her hot, sticky pussy clamped around every part of him.
An explosion followed. His release. He thought for a second he was dying, a euphoric, trance-like death, and he clung to her tighter, for dear life. He never wanted it to end, Sophie straddling him, his cum flowing. She cried out his name, then bucked and shouted out the joy of her own orgasm.
Eventually, she lowered her head onto his shoulder. Her body heaved with breaths, and he could feel the incessant thud of her heart against his chest. Her skin was slick and wet, and he slid a hand up and down her back.
He expected the air hostess and pilot must have heard their cries, even behind the closed door, but they wouldn’t disturb them, not when he’d given strict instruction he and Sophie were to be left alone. Not that he cared. He wanted them to know he’d just made love of the rawest, purest kind with the woman whose body had gelled with his, like no-one else’s ever had.
Guilt washed over Sophie’s naked body, drenching her in a cold sweat, which made her shiver. She couldn’t bear the thought of pulling away from Daniel’s shoulder to meet his eyes. Having sex with a practical stranger—twice! What was she thinking? This wasn’t her at all.
In the end, she didn’t have to pull herself up as he grasped her upper arms and gently eased her from his chest.
“Are you all right?” His forehead was creased, and he looked genuinely concerned.
“Yes, I’m fine.” Sophie giggled to hide her embarrassment, then wished she hadn’t. It sounded strangled and forced. “I wasn’t expecting that to happen.”
God, why did she say that? How lame. Of course she hadn’t expected it to happen. She was an interpreter, not an escort, even though she was acting like one.
He reached up and brushed a strand of loose hair from her eyes.
“I’m glad it did.” His expression was earnest, no trace of a smile.
“I should tidy myself up,” she said quickly, flustered by his honesty. She’d never been in a situation like this and didn’t have the faintest idea what she should say. In truth, she was glad it had happened, too, but she shouldn’t have let it. She was in a dire enough situation as it was and needed to keep her job, not do her best to jeopardize it. For the sake of sex—as glorious as it had been—she had just made the situation much, much worse.
She lifted off his softening cock, grabbed the clothes that only moments ago she’d happily discarded, and wrapped them haphazardly around herself to cover her modesty. “I’ll just go and freshen up.”
She hurried to the washroom, closed the door behind her, and splashed her face over and over with cold water, hoping it would restore some clarity into her fuzzy brain.
Oh, Sophie, what the hell are you doing getting carried away with Balderas—again? You have to spend the next three days in close proximity with this man and need to focus. This is an important deal you’re translating for.
Her pussy still buzzed from the experience and tingled under her touch as she wiped away the evidence of her orgasm. Rubbing herself sent aftershocks of sexual heat darting to every one of her nerve endings. But how could she still be horny after that session? It had to be her hormones.
She needed to get him and sex with him out of her system. She kicked her clothes into the corner of the washroom and perched on the edge of the toilet lid. The cold wood heightened the tingling in her groin, and she positioned her fingers beneath her. She inserted her pinky inside her and massaged her clitoris with the side of her index finger. The strokes of her own fingers against her hot, wet flesh sent surges of heat to her center.
She rubbed harder, faster, and the sensation intensified until her legs began to tremble. She spread them apart as far as she could and pushed her bare feet into the walls. Her fingers were doused with her juices. She closed her eyes. As good as it was to touch herself, she needed him so badly to push his cock further into her than she could reach.
The door clicked open. Her heart missed a beat. It was him. Fully dressed, perfectly groomed, as if he hadn’t just fucked her. If she could have jumped out of the plane without a parachute right now, she would. He’d caught her masturbating in his private jet. Her heart rose into her throat, and she thought she might be sick with embarrassment.
She froze and waited for him to break out into laughter at any second, but his face remained unsmiling. He stepped toward her, placed his hands under her arm, and pulled her up to stand.
“Turn around.” His Spanish staccato left her in no doubt it was an order.
She stood still and stared at him. Was he going to chastise her for inappropriate behavior?
“I said, turn around.”
Slowly, she turned.
She heard the swift unfastening of a zipper and the crackle of another condom wrapper. Without further warning, he entered her. His cock felt even harder and bigger than before, like it was made of steel, not human tissue. The force of him shoving into her drove her forward. She screamed out in shock and put her palms flat against the wall to support herself.
“Allow me.” He reached an arm around her stomach, placing his hand between her legs.
He was inside her, and his fingers played with her clit. The double touch was phenomenal. There was just one thing missing.
Suddenly, she was wrenched backward into him as he wrapped his other arm around her front and squeezed her breast firmly with his free hand.
She was powerless now. Out of control. She thrust down into him and allowed herself to be massaged, stimulated, and made love to. She lifted her arms up and backward, noosing his neck to anchor herself to him. Her pussy ached with the power of his thrusts. How could it hurt but still feel this good? She was so horny she couldn’t hold it any longer. The orgasm flooded her whole body with wave after delicious wave of pure bliss.
One more thrust and he joined her. He cursed and wedged his hands deep onto the skin of her hips, holding her still
while his cum pulsed against the condom inside her.
Neither of them spoke as they regained their composure. Daniel was the first to break the silence.
“As much as I want to spend the whole flight doing this, I think we both need to calm down. Otherwise, we’ll never be able to focus over the next three days.”
“Yes,” she said, unsure what else to say. She remained facing the wall and waited for the washroom door to click closed, marking his exit, before she turned around and dressed herself.
She returned to her seat in the main cabin and found him reading paperwork. His demeanor was so cool and collected, like he hadn’t just ravaged her. He looked up briefly, then returned to his work.
They barely exchanged a word for the remainder of the flight. She tried to focus on her assignment notes, but her mind kept flicking back to their two frenzied sessions. She was relieved when they finally started their descent. Perhaps the chill of the Icelandic air would restore her senses.
She peered out of the window. Sheets of white-topped princely volcanic mountains and swathes of rugged green and brown landscape extended for miles beneath them. Fire and ice crashing together. Funny, that was exactly how Daniel made her feel.
Chapter Two
“I hope you’ll be comfortable here. My team of staff has been informed of our arrival, and one of them will show you to your suite,” Daniel said to Sophie as their chauffeur-driven luxury 4x4 crunched over the gravel of the drive to his lakeside lodge.
The white-gloved driver opened her door, and she saw for the first time the true opulence of the accommodation where they would be spending the next two nights. When Daniel mentioned they would be staying at his bolt-hole by the lake, she imagined a cozy cottage, not a magnificent three-story wooden lodge. Warm orange lights blazed from the windows, creating an inviting homely glow in the midst of the dusky, chilly Icelandic afternoon.
Every floor had a decked balcony overlooking a tranquil turquoise lake edged with lush green pines. A wood-paneled jetty lined by glimmering lanterns stretched out into the water to complete the picturesque fairy tale setting. She fell instantly in love with the beauty of the lodge and its surroundings and wanted to dance with joy at the prospect of staying here, even though she’d be living cheek by jowl with a man who, when he realized who she was, would surely despise her.
“Madam, let me take your bag and I’ll show you to your room.” One of the members of staff lined up outside the lodge to welcome Daniel and Sophie led her up a flight of stairs and into the biggest yet coziest bedroom she’d ever seen.
Once alone, she ran to the slatted shutters and flung them open. She stepped onto the balcony and drew in a deep breath of fresh, crisp air. Her view was nothing short of spectacular. From her elevated position she could see a large hot tub at the end of the jetty, bubbling and steaming in the freezing, misty air.
There was a knock on her door. Was it Daniel? What if the penny had dropped and he’d figured out who she was. Would he order her to leave? What would she say to the company? How would she cope without a job given how desperately she needed one now more than ever? Her mind raced.
Another, more insistent rap on the door made her jump.
She walked over to the entrance and, with a trembling hand, turned the knob, opening the door just a crack. To her relief one of the women she recognized from the line of staff stood before her.
“Miss Reece,” she said in a soft Nordic accent, “Mr. Balderas requests your company for dinner. He’ll meet you in the snug—the sitting area off the hallway—at six p.m. prompt. He said to tell you to wear something warm and comfortable as you’ll be walking to the restaurant.”
Sophie thanked the woman and closed the door.
“Well, that’ll have to do,” she told the mirror fifteen minutes later. She grabbed her shoulder bag off the huge bed and padded down the polished wooden spiral staircase. At the foot of the staircase was a small, cozy sitting area housing a squishy-looking sofa. She assumed that was the snug and curled herself into the corner of the sofa to wait.
Heavy footsteps sounded on the marble flooring, and with every one, her nervousness intensified. Although only a few hours had lapsed since she and Daniel had been intimate, her embarrassment at being caught touching herself in the washroom returned.
The footsteps stopped, and she looked up.
Daniel’s dark, domineering presence in silhouette form filled the doorway, blocking out most of the light from the hallway behind him. “Ready?”
She looked closer and saw a man she hardly recognized. He’d changed into casual clothes and, she had to admit, was the picture of an archetypal hunk. He wore a woolen oatmeal sweater that highlighted his muscular frame. The thick body warmer he wore on top remained unzipped, allowing Sophie to see the full broadness of his manly chest. His jeans were tucked into heavy steel toe-capped boots and, for the first time today, he wore glasses, which framed his handsome face and showed off his strong jaw line. She had never thought of glasses as being a welcome addition to a man’s face, but Daniel was no normal man, and with the slim silver frames contrasting against his dark olive skin, he looked every inch the cultured and distinguished eligible bachelor.
He nodded to gesture they were leaving and headed for the door. She grabbed her coat from the arm of the sofa where she had draped it and followed him. “Where are we going?”
“Just a little place I know. It’s a ten-minute walk and it’s a cold night, but it’s worth it for the scenery.”
The weather had turned colder since she’d stood on her balcony, and the crisp air hit her like a slap in the face. With his long legs, Daniel’s walking pace was fast, and she almost had to jog to keep up.
He stopped and turned, allowing her to catch up. “Why aren’t you wearing gloves and a decent coat?” he asked when she drew level with him. “This is Iceland, not St. Tropez.”
“How am I supposed to know what to wear for a trek in the middle of the night in a country I’ve never been to? She was embarrassed at underestimating how cold it became in Iceland in autumn but also annoyed he assumed she was as accustomed to jet-setting off to different climates as he was.
“Here, take these.” His voice softened as he took off his huge gloves and offered them to her.
“No, thanks. I don’t need you to look after me.”
He gave her a cocky grin. “I know you can do most things yourself. I saw that earlier today, if you remember, and there’s nothing I like more than seeing a beautiful woman enjoying her own company. But on this occasion, I think you could benefit from a little TLC.”
She was grateful for the dark, so he couldn’t see how furiously her cheeks were burning. She snatched the proffered gloves and sank her hands into the delightfully warm sheepskin lining.
“Okay, fine, if it makes you happy,” she muttered.
“You’d better take this, too.” He took off his body warmer and wrapped it around her trembling body.
She’d brought her thickest coat, and while it had kept her perfectly warm through several English winters, she was quickly coming to realize Icelandic weather played by different rules. She fumbled with the zipper, but his gloves were far too big and her fingers pawed clumsily at the fastener.
“Let me help.” Daniel stepped closer and took over.
He pulled up the zipper past her chest, and their eyes met. They were so near to one another she could feel the warmth of his breath brush her forehead, causing the butterflies in her stomach to flutter like crazy. With his hand still on the guide, he glanced at her lips.
“Sophie,” he whispered.
“Yes?” she asked, barely audibly, a sudden gust of freezing wind stealing the sound.
He exhaled, his breath visible in the cold night air.
“You’ll be fine now,” he said finally, releasing his hand from the zipper.
“That’s much better, thank you,” she said. His body broke away from hers, and she pined for his warmth.
They continued on, walk
ing in silence, hands in pockets. A few moments later, she stumbled on the uneven ground. Daniel caught her from tumbling just in time.
“You really are a city girl, aren’t you?” A boyish smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.
“Actually, I’m from a small rural village originally,” she snapped back.
“You’re no good to me in the hospital,” he said, ignoring her comment. “You’d better hold my hand. I won’t let you fall.”
Despite his teasing, something in his words suggested this wasn’t the last time he’d be there to look out for her, to protect her. Her heart soared. His large fingers closed around her hand and cocooned her in safety. Despite his hand now being gloveless, it radiated a heat that travelled up her arm and into her chest, filling her with a sense of belonging.
They entered the restaurant, and it struck Sophie that Daniel still had hold of her hand. The other diners would probably assume they were an item. Warmth flooded her limbs.
At the table, Daniel watched Sophie in the flickering candlelight as she read the menu. Even without the sexy little dress and sultry makeup she’d worn when he first met her, she still struck him as beautiful—more so now than then—as her natural beauty shone through.
She wasn’t traditionally attractive. He’d spent time with many a taller, thinner, and more confident women, but Sophie was more real somehow. She looked so innocent and unaware of her how enticing she was, he found himself drawn to her. With her womanly curves, fresh face, almond-shaped green eyes, and soft, light brown hair that tumbled effortlessly over her shoulders, she looked pure and vulnerable, and he felt inclined to wrap his arms around her and love and protect her forever.
The waiter brought their drinks, and Daniel picked up his glass to chink it against Sophie’s. “Skál!”
“Skál!” she responded. “Can you say anything else in Icelandic?”
“I can ask your name. And maybe I should.”
She frowned. “But you already know my name.”
Ice Hot Page 2
