A Taste of the Untamed

by Susan Stephens

  She was soon stamping furiously like everyone else. She had never felt so abandoned and free. Her legs were swimming in warm juice and the sensation was erotic and amazing. Nacho should have warned her—but would she have come if he had?

  As Nacho let go of her for a moment, to tug off his juice-drenched shirt, she realised her own blouse was soaked through with juice. She could only imagine how transparent it must be. And now her overly sensitive hands were free to roam Nacho’s warm, naked skin. She could feel a wealth of muscle beneath her fingertips, and his heart throbbing strongly in his chest.

  ‘You’ll fall if you don’t hold on,’ he warned when she quickly drew her hands away.

  She’d fall if she did, Grace thought.

  He’d seen the other men looking at Grace with hunger in their eyes, and he felt his power surge even higher as she clung to him. He had left the other men in no doubt that he was the one Grace trusted to keep her safe.

  The music stopped as suddenly as it had begun and a hush fell over the crowd. He knew what would happen next—though Grace had no idea why he was suddenly holding her so firmly. A few seconds passed, and then a drum began to beat. The sound was little more than a seductive whisper to begin with, but then it grew louder and faster, until everyone was stamping their feet to the same heated rhythm, and the air was charged with a primal energy that made his own senses sharpen in response.

  More and more couples were leaving the vat, Grace noticed. There was a lot more room for manoeuvre, and not half so much yelling and laughter.

  ‘I’ll need at least an hour in the shower after this,’ she told Nacho, laughing. The evening was coming to an end and she was reluctant to leave. Something had changed between them. Barriers had come down. Though she guessed she looked an incredible mess. She was sticky with juice, and without Buddy or her stick she had no alternative but to rely on Nacho to take her back home. ‘But I don’t want to spoil the evening for you,’ she insisted. ‘Why don’t you come back to the party after you’ve walked me home?’

  ‘Why would I do that?’ he said. ‘Come on, Grace. We’re leaving.’

  She liked that he made no fuss. Nacho just swung her into his arms and lifted her over the side of the vat. Then somehow he was there to steady her on the other side. She paused to straighten her skirt while Nacho found her sandals, but as he began to lead her away she felt disorientated. ‘Where are we going?’

  A wooden door creaked open in front of her and cool air hit her face. They were outside and away from everyone, with cobbles beneath their feet. And now they were crossing an open space that had to be big because all sound was lost on the wind.

  ‘Where is this?’ she said. ‘A hay barn?’ she guessed as Nacho opened another door. ‘What are we doing here?’

  ‘Even you can’t be so naïve,’ Nacho murmured.

  CHAPTER NINE

  LACING his fingers through her hair, Nacho cupped the back of her head in a way that was both possessive and achingly tender. The brush of his lips against hers was a remembered pleasure—though so much better now she was full of suppressed heat and longing.

  She could feel his power flooding through her, mixing with her own to create some new, stronger force. When he tightened his grip, pressing insistently and hungrily against her, she kissed him back with an answering hunger that found its voice deep in her throat. Teasing her lips apart, he deepened the kiss and, finding her tongue with his, stroked it in a way that made intimate pulses throb deep between her thighs.

  She moved against him, wanting more … more pleasure … more incredible sensation. Her mind blazed with a fever that no amount of reason could wipe out. She wanted him. And, impossibly, it appeared Nacho wanted her too.

  ‘Where are you taking me?’ she gasped as he swung her into his arms. She still felt that frisson of uncertainty, and wished beyond anything that she could see.

  She had to trust him, Grace realised as Nacho soothed her with husky words in Spanish. She knew something of this man now, and she had to trust him to keep her safe.

  Shouldering open another door, he let it bang shut behind them. ‘I’m taking you to the hacienda.’

  ‘To the hacienda?’ she said.

  ‘And then to bed.’

  ‘And Buddy?’

  ‘I’ll make a call.’

  Reassured, and yet terrified, she clung to Nacho as he strode across gravel and cobbles, and finally onto an even path. Another door swung wide, and they were inside again, somewhere quiet and calm and warm, where a clock was ticking reassuringly. She heard marble tiles beneath his feet and then a wide expanse of rug. They were inside the hacienda in a big hallway, Grace realised as Nacho turned and bounded up a flight of stairs. A grand staircase, she registered as they went up and up.

  Trust Nacho to have his eyrie at the top of the house, she mused when they reached a thickly carpeted landing. He strode straight on and another door opened. Greeted by the scent of clean linen and beeswax, she guessed this was his bedroom.

  The room was big. It ate up several of his strides before Nacho put her down on the bed. The windows were open, and she could feel the breeze and hear the swish of voile billowing.

  She heard him switch a light on and smiled. ‘I don’t need the light,’ she said.

  ‘But I do,’ Nacho argued, lying down at her side. ‘I want to look at you.’

  She remained still on sheets scented with lavender and sunshine, her head resting comfortably on a soft bank of pillows. She was trembling with awareness, Grace realised, waiting for Nacho to touch her or to speak.

  Grace was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He marvelled that someone so tiny and vulnerable could be so strong. She was all he remembered from the wedding and so much more. He smiled to think she looked even better for being flushed and dishevelled after the grape-treading. Her hair had tumbled down and was wild around her shoulders, while the juice-stained blouse did nothing to conceal the full swell of her breasts. Grape juice streaked her cheek and her neck.

  Bringing her into his arms, he kissed it away. She laughed against his mouth, and her laugh was the sexiest thing he had ever heard.

  ‘Don’t,’ she said.

  ‘Don’t what?’ He pulled his head back to look at her.

  ‘Don’t treat me as if I’m made of cut glass,’ she warned him. ‘I’m a woman like any other, Nacho.’

  Not like any other, he thought. His hungry gaze swept Grace’s body to find the cotton skirt had wrapped itself around her legs, exposing her elegant thighs. He thought of them spread wide and her legs locked around him … He wanted them joined deep. Moving over her, he teased her, with the weight of his thigh for the pleasure of hearing her groan. Taking his leg higher, he pressed more firmly, rubbing and teasing until she was gasping for breath.

  ‘Don’t—don’t stop,’ she said. Balling her hands, she pressed angry fists against his chest. ‘There’s nothing wrong with me. Nothing. Do you understand?’

  ‘All I understand is that I want you,’ he murmured, staring down. ‘But what do you want, Grace?’

  ‘You,’ she said fiercely. ‘I want you. I don’t want you to see a blind woman,’ she added in a voice that tore at his heart. ‘I want you to see me. I want you to see Grace—’

  ‘I always have,’ he whispered, dragging her close.

  And it was the truth. After that first terrible shock he had come to see past the changes in Grace to everything that remained the same, and so much that had grown stronger.

  ‘There’s no rush. We’ve got all night, Grace.’

  ‘And this could take hours, I hope?’

  He felt her smile against his mouth. ‘At least …’

  Happy with his answer, she laughed, and his hunger spiked higher, driving back the ghosts from the past.

  She had dreamed of this moment since she first saw Nacho, but never in her wildest dreams had she imagined they would ever be together like this, or that she could have the freedom of his body as he had hers. Nacho had aroused her
beyond the point of reason just with his touch, and with the outrageous suggestions he was murmuring in her ear. He was the master of all things sensual, and he had made her want him with a hunger so fierce it frightened her.

  ‘Enough,’ she complained. ‘Stop teasing me.’ She writhed impatiently beneath him. ‘Please don’t make me wait.’

  But Nacho refused to be hurried, and was content to leave her to imagine what might happen next.

  ‘Please don’t do this,’ she begged in a shaking voice.

  His answer was to tease her with his torso, brushing his warm body against her until her nipples were on fire and she was arcing against him, shamelessly seeking contact. When he finally dipped his head to suckle her nipples through the fine fabric of her blouse she uttered a cry of sheer relief. But it wasn’t enough. The pulse between her legs was growing ever more demanding. Every time she inhaled she drew in more of Nacho’s intoxicating scent, and the thought of all his power, so effortlessly controlled and so completely at her disposal, was more aphrodisiac than she could handle.

  He had to curb Grace or it would all be over for her too soon. He had never anticipated this level of hunger, and wondered if he had ever seen anyone so aroused so quickly or so fiercely. Grace was like a lioness fighting for her mate, and it took all his skill to stroke and soothe and make her hold back. When she was quiet again he kissed her tenderly, but even then she couldn’t stay still for long. Holding both her wrists, he pinned her on the bank of pillows. He was going to make this good for her. He was going to make this perfect.

  He could never have anticipated that the solution to holding Grace back would come from Grace herself.

  ‘I want to explore you,’ she said.

  He released her and, resting back on one elbow, stared down, wondering if this was another test Grace had decided she must put herself through. Closing his eyes, he traced the line of her full lips with his thumb pad as a reminder that Grace saw the world through touch now.

  ‘Lie back,’ she whispered.

  This was the first time he had ever taken instruction in bed, but for Grace he would do pretty much anything right now.

  She didn’t just learn through touch he discovered, closing his eyes. Everything a sighted person could communicate with a glance Grace delivered with her hands. They were extraordinarily sensitive. They were such tiny hands, but so cool and strong. They had been as expressive as her eyes on the day they’d first met. He’d learned as much about himself as he’d learned about Grace in those few minutes.

  ‘Stay still,’ she told him.

  Great though it was, this was a complete role reversal for him. No wonder it took some getting used to.

  Having mapped his chest, she moved on to explore the muscles of his arm and then his hands and fingers. It was the most sensuous experience he’d ever had. When she moved down the bed he held his breath as she stroked his legs. He needn’t have worried. She stopped her investigations a prudent distance up his thighs. But apart from that she was a revelation. Some instinct seemed to inform her where he felt the most pleasure and how she must touch him to increase that pleasure. She could tease and soothe in ways he had never imagined—ways that sent his senses soaring to a point where it was he who was in danger of losing control. Something that had never happened in his life before.

  ‘You’re not supposed to do that,’ he murmured, dragging her back into his arms.

  ‘Not supposed to do what?’ she said. He kissed her, soothing her again. ‘Grace?’ he murmured seeing something was wrong.

  ‘Did I do something wrong?’ she asked in a small voice.

  He laughed softly against her mouth. ‘You did nothing wrong. You did everything right—which is why we need to pause.’ There were tears in her eyes, he noticed. ‘What haven’t you told me, Grace?’

  ‘It’s the way you make me feel,’ she said, biting her lip. ‘It frightens me.’ Mashing her lips together, she gave him that determined look of hers. ‘And I’m crying because you kiss so damn well.’

  He laughed. ‘Then I’d better kiss you again,’ he said.

  When Nacho released her she realised how close she’d come to telling him how she really felt about him—that she wasn’t even sure she could survive the strength of her feelings for him. But she had to be realistic. After devoting his life to his siblings, how could she burden Nacho with a blind woman? It was selfish of her even to think that way. She should save those wild emotions and channel them into something with a future attached—like her career.

  She had promised everyone who had helped her that she would live her life to the full. Had that been just an empty pledge?

  ‘Grace?’ Nacho prompted, cupping her chin so he could stare into her face. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Nothing,’ she lied, burrowing her face in his chest. ‘I’m just trying to get something straight in my head.’

  ‘And have you?’

  Lifting her chin, she wished that she could see Nacho—so she could read him, so she could know him completely.

  Feeling overwhelmed him when Grace reached for him. He was filled with a fierce determination to keep her safe and bring her pleasure.

  Could those two things exist side by side?

  ‘You taste of fruit,’ she said, smiling as she kissed his shoulder. ‘Kiss me,’ she demanded fiercely, moving beneath him.

  Grace’s strength was what attracted him, he realised, that and her matchless femininity. Her face was radiant and her hair was tumbling around her shoulders in a billowing cloud. Moving it out of the way, he kissed her neck, before moving down the bed to rasp his stubble very lightly against the soft swell of her belly. Feeling her tremble, he kissed her again and she groaned, arching her hips as she searched for relief for the ache inside her. She tasted better than he remembered. She tasted of warmth and of woman and of Grace—unique and strong. Stripping her skirt off, he tossed it away. Her top followed. Now there was just a tiny lace thong between them. But he attended to her breasts first, suckling and relishing the taste of Grace and grape juice combined. When he lifted his head she allowed her thighs to part, as if she wanted him to see her arousal.

  ‘How long must I wait?’ she demanded, groaning in complaint.

  ‘As long as I decide you must wait,’ he said, enjoying the pleasure-pain as her fingers bit into his arms.

  But she hadn’t finished with him yet, and with an angry sound of frustration went straight for the button on his jeans. They were soon off, but he pinned her to the bed as she panted beneath him.

  He had always thought sex should be fun, but this was the first time he had encountered a woman who could remotely match his appetite. ‘Okay,’ he said with amusement, somehow managing to keep her still. ‘You win.’

  ‘I don’t want to win,’ she said. ‘At least not this game.’

  This new Grace was free to be as provocative as she liked—free to express her feelings in a way she would never have dared to do before—and that made anything possible. The sensations she was experiencing in the darkness were dazzling.

  Instead of moving she remained quite still. She wanted to remember every moment of this—Nacho’s thigh brushing her just where she needed him, the intense little pleasure spasms engulfing her. He was a master of the art of seduction and she was a most willing pupil. Nacho knew exactly what he was doing, and was totally switched on to her needs as he prepared her for the ultimate pleasure.

  ‘You’re so cruel,’ she complained on a shuddering breath as he talked to her in Spanish, no doubt promising all sorts of excess.

  She exhaled with excitement, feeling the proof of his arousal rest heavy against her leg. He was massive. She had always known he would be. But when she begged him not to prolong the torture he only laughed.

  ‘I’m being kind,’ he assured her in a husky whisper.

  He had never known a woman to be so full of desire. When Grace rested in his arms, throwing her head back as she was doing now to drag in air, he wanted nothing more than to pin her to the
bed and pound into her until they both fell back exhausted. But when she ran those tiny hands across his chest, when she traced the line of his shoulders with a touch so light, all he wanted to do was to treat her exactly as she had asked him not to—like cut glass. No woman had ever seduced him with touch alone, but Grace could. She had magic in her hands and something equally potent in her lovely, lust-drenched face.

  ‘Nacho?’ she whispered, sensing the change in him.

  The past had intruded without warning, and it had come between them in the ugliest way. Throwing himself back on the pillows he wondered how he could even think of doing this.

  ‘Nacho, what’s wrong?’

  ‘What’s wrong?’ he said. ‘You’re not afraid of me, are you, Grace?’

  ‘Of course I’m not afraid of you. Why would I be?’

  Because I destroy people, he thought. Because I can never give you what you want.

  Grace frowned with concern—for him. Since the tragedy he had always known it was his duty to devote his life to family and to the vast territories they owned, and that he must remain free of personal ties so that he could never hurt anyone again.

  ‘I think you’ve forgotten me,’ Grace murmured.

  He turned to look at her distractedly, and then she touched him—not just with her hands, but with her indomitable will.

  ‘Have you forgotten why you brought me here?’ she said, teasing him with a smile.

  ‘Forgotten you?’ The past fell away as he stared at her. ‘How could I ever forget you?’ he murmured dryly.

  ‘That’s what I hoped you’d say,’ she said, stroking him in a way that made him forget everything.

  ‘Tell me what you remember about me.’

  ‘I remember you sluicing down in the yard,’ she said. ‘I remember your arms—so sexy, hard and muscular.’

  ‘My arms are sexy?’ he said, his lips pressing down as he considered this information.

  ‘Especially if they pin me down,’ she said.

  ‘Is that a hint?’

  Grace’s slender shoulders eased in a shrug. ‘What do you think?’