The Mammoth Book of Hot Romance

by Sonia Florens

  He nodded. “The best.”

  Her head dropped back. Her body felt boneless. He’d never said anything like that to her before.

  Leading her to the bedside with a tug on the belt, he gestured, indicating that she lie down. She sat, and then lay flat out. It was getting difficult to breathe. He lifted her hands with the belt, jerking them at the wrist so that her arms were straight and her breasts rolled together. He seemed to like the way that looked, and strapped her to the metal bedpost, bending the soft leather belt over on itself and looping it through the buckle, to hold her in place with her arms above her head. When it was done, he rested a kiss on one nipple, making her arch against the surface of the bed.

  She watched as he stripped off. His body, so familiar, made her ache. The sight of his naked, erect cock set her on fire, and she wriggled against the restraints.

  He shook his head, ran his hand over her belly and then lower, pushing a finger into her slit. “Open your legs, let me see you.”

  She did as he said and he watched while he stroked his cock with one hand. The way he was looking at her was so blatant. With her legs splayed, her burning pussy was exposed. Liquid dribbled down in between her buttocks. Her clit was buzzing with the need to be touched, her sex gaping and yet contracting inside.

  He climbed over her, landing with his hot cockhead against her splayed pussy. Her clit leaped, the contact making her legs thrash wildly. “Always so eager,” he murmured, pushing her loosed hair back as he looked down at her with curiosity in his expression.

  Had he doubted she’d still want him? It was there, ever so briefly, in his eyes. And then he was nudging inside her and thoughts melted into sensation.

  He pushed. The walls of her aching sex stretched to accommodate him, her pulse pounding, silently screaming: So good. Being filled by this man – who she loved so desperately – was even better than she had remembered during all those nights tossing and turning. It didn’t matter if it was a day or a year, there was no memory or dream as stunning as that feeling of being suddenly filled, his hard shaft ploughing her deep. Then he hit home, brushing her core, and she moaned loudly and lifted within her restraints, her back arching, her shoulders jerking up from the surface of the bed.

  “Oh yes,” he murmured, and kissed her mouth.

  All that pent-up regret and longing, all that frustration poured out of her, and she locked eyes with him and ground her hips to meet his.

  He thrust his cock deep inside her.

  “You didn’t come all the way here … for this,” she managed to accuse, with a gasp for air on his thrust, “surely?”

  He nodded, his brow drawn down with the effort.

  “It’s a long way to … come … for a shag, Mike.”

  He gave a hoarse laugh, and pulled out, urging her to chase after him. Her hips reacted of their own accord, reaching for him, angled up from the bed. Her pussy brushed fleetingly against his cock. Her hands moved helplessly in the belt.

  With a soft chuckle, he thrust home again, making her gasp. “Oh yes, I came here for this, but not just for a one-off. For you, all of you. I want you to be mine.”

  A tight fist contracted in her chest. Her gaze searched his, looking for the truth.

  He eased back inside. “Yes, I love you, you crazy diamond,” he whispered, and his eyes shone.

  Tears of relief blurred her vision. Her heart beat frantically, the ache in her chest blossoming into joy.

  He nodded at her, reinforcing his words. Then he lifted on his arms and started to thrust hard and fast, massaging her most sensitive places, sending hot tides of sensation over her entire body.

  She cried out, trying to hold back to gain the measure of his words, but it was too much. Her whole body had been ready for this for far too long, and now he was inside her and she couldn’t help shouting her joy. Her body met his, her hands wrapped around the leather belt for purchase.

  Hard and fast, they thrashed out their longing, their differences and their desires. The bed rattled and shunted on the tiled floor, creaking loudly.

  Her core spasmed. Relief was imminent.

  “You feel so good.” The words were wrenched from his lungs. “I want be here for ever.”

  He was close, and she knew that because she knew this man so well.

  Her climax hit, her whole body shuddered with the force of it. She held him deep inside and squeezed his cock hard with her inner muscles. He clutched at her, his cock jerking hard, his fingers in her hair and words of love on his lips as he came.

  Mike was kissing her.

  Leonie was in heaven.

  He kissed her eyelids, her forehead and then the tip of her nose. He rubbed his face against hers, grazing her with his stubble, then he teased his lips against hers while he cupped her face in his hands.

  “Untie me,” she pleaded, aching to hold him.

  “Maybe.” He smiled, as if to himself. “I like you this way,” he added, and his voice was hoarse with emotion, “because you can’t run away from me again while I’ve got you tied up.”

  “I didn’t run away.”

  His eyelids lowered but not before she saw it – she’d hurt him. He masked it quickly and reached for the belt. When he unbound her, she touched him, holding him eagerly.

  Am I dreaming? His hard body under her fingers seemed to deny that. Running her ds along his flank, she drew back and looked at him, needing the constant reassurance this had really happened.

  He rested alongside her and ran his hand up the length of her arm. “You’re different, leaner.”

  “I’ve been working hard.”

  “You have. It suits you.” His expression seemed to soften, and yet his fingers lingered around her biceps, stroking her as if he was acquainting himself with the physical changes that had been brought about by hard labour.

  “You are different too, more wrinkles.” She touched her finger over his face.

  “That’s your fault.” He smiled.

  “Oh, right, my fault.” She laughed softly.

  They continued to explore the newness they found in each other. Leonie wanted to savour every moment. She didn’t want to ask him if he really meant what he’d said, not yet.

  He turned his attention to her chest, and licked her right breast, long and slow, eking out her afterglow, making her even more warm and languid. Her hips stirred against the bed, heavy and yet warming for more action. Her fingers latched over the abandoned belt, anchoring her. “Why the belt?”

  “Thought you might not be so willing.” He moved to her left breast. “Thought that I’d have to convince you.”

  He had doubted her need for him. But still he came …

  “Willing?” she teased, on an intake of breath, when he pleasured her sensitive breast with his kisses.

  Then his cock began to stir against her and he seemed to make an effort to gather his thoughts. “There is something else I need to say, a few things actually.”

  “What?”

  “It’s about work.” He drew away, ever so slightly, but she noticed.

  If this was about work did that mean he had moved on already – that he had already shelved the intimacies said in the heat of the moment?

  His expression grew more serious. “The board of directors suggested a new post for you. They like what you’ve done here. You gave a new franchise confidence. The board wants you to do it again, with a bigger project. They haven’t given all the details yet, just wanted me to run it past you, in theory.” There was a certain sense of misgiving in his tone. “I can tell you it’s in South America. The plantation is big, up to five times the size of this, and the conditions are harsher.”

  It sounded like the sort of new challenge she wanted, but he was wary. Maybe he didn’t want her to go. Was this an either/or situation?

  “I’ve learned a lot,” she said, cautiously. “I’m willing to think about it.”

  His eyelids lowered. “They are offering it to you under one condition.” His mouth twitched, and she sens
ed he was trying to play it deadpan.

  “Condition?”

  “Just one. You work with someone else.” He met her stare and the twinkle in his eyes made her heart thud in her chest. Curiosity and hope gripped her.

  “Who?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

  He shrugged. “Yours truly.”

  “But you said you’d never leave London, you said you’d never tie yourself to anyone or anything—”

  The words tumbled out, but he put his finger against her lips, hushing her. “I changed my mind. If you agree, we’ll do it together, and you’ll be the expert.” He stroked his hand down her flank, his expression serious. “I’ll just be the newbie who wants to be alongside you.”

  She knew that was hard for him, and she knew that he was offering the sort of commitment he’d never been able to offer before. “Are you sure you’ve thought this through?”

  He nodded. “I’ve thought about nothing else for the lwelve months, since the moment you left. I love you, Leonie.” He paused. “I couldn’t be what you wanted, back then. I know that I let you down. But now, it’s different. I had a nasty shock when you went away. I thought I could handle it, but it tore me apart. I realized what an idiot I’d been.”

  She almost couldn’t stand it. His confession made her ache.

  He drew her hands to his mouth and kissed them both reverently. “You did the right thing. I needed a kick up the arse. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. If you’ll have me, we can go on together. I want new challenges too, and I want to be with you, always.”

  She tried to keep the smile from her face, but failed. “Hmm, now let’s see … a new assignment.” She latched her hands over his shoulders. “I’d have to give it some serious consideration.”

  “Don’t make me wait too long, or I might have to force the issue.” He prized her legs open again, his cock hard against her thigh, his mouth nuzzling her throat hungrily.

  A sense of heady, heady bliss saturated her. She lifted her hips and encouraged him back in.

  A tentative knock sounded.

  Sherri coughed outside the door, in the corridor. “Hey folks, I just wanted to let you know, dinner is just about ready.”

  “I’ll be right there,” Mike managed to respond, as he eased his cock inside her. “I’m just freshening up.”

  “You’re in my room, idiot,” Leonie whispered. She couldn’t help laughing. When she did, his cock buoyed up against her most sensitive place. “Oh, oh, oh,” she murmured.

  “OK,” Sherri called out. “No rush, it’ll keep. I figured you guys had some … freshening … to do. I put your bag outside the door, Mike. You left it in the hallway.” They heard her chuckling as she walked away.

  Mike fixed Leonie’s gaze with his, his hips pinning her to bed. “Well?”

  “What if I ask for it to be someone else, for the sake of my sanity?”

  “I want us to be together.” He pulled back and then thrust inside her, demanding. “Stop toying with me and agree, damn it!”

  He was actually fretting about her response. She could see it in his eyes. She could also feel it in his needy thrust. “Oh,” she said, in between gasping for breath. “I suppose it might be better to be with the devil I know …”

  “Agree. Or we’ll never make it to dinner.”

  She gasped as he rolled his hips from side to side, his shaft massaging her. “Looks like you’ve me got over a barrel,” she managed to reply.

  “Now that I’d like to see.” He plied her with kisses. He reached down and stroked his one finger back and forth over her clit, brusquely, demandingly. “Agree,” he urged again, taking shallow thrusts.

  This time she met his gaze on every move, watching him in wonder as he made every part of her sing. She felt herself fluttering open deep within, each internal kiss like a seal on what had been said. Crying out, she climaxed suddenly and unexpectedly.

  “It’s a deal,” she managed to blurt out, and then wrapped her legs around his hips, locking him in place while he poured himself into her and his cock jerked in release.

  “I love you, Mike,” she whispered, as he rolled her into his arms.

  Even if she could have resisted him for a moment longer, it didn’t matter any more. The devil she knew was right where she wanted him to be – in her heart, in her soul, and in her bed.

  Afternoon in Paradise

  It should have been a perfect afternoon in paradise, yet Jenna Brockhurst sensed something unsettling in the air as she stepped on to the marble terrace of the tropical resort. A gentle breeze played through her blonde hair and the gauzy shirt she wore over her bikini top and beach wrap skirt. Raising her head, she scanned the terrace, then the wide beach and the bay beyond where sailboats skimmed across the blue water of Honeycomb Bay.

  Was she looking for danger? Or looking for him? The lean, dark-haired guy with the broad shoulders and eyes so dark they were almost black, except for the touch of fire in their depths. The same guy who radiated a leashed power that made her want to run. Towards him or away? She wasn’t exactly sure. He’d met her gaze that first night in the elegant dining room where they’d both been eating alone at separate tables. In those first seconds of eye contact, she’d thought he might ask to join her. Instead, he’d turned back to the slab of steak on his plate and left the baked potato before signing the check and disappearing.

  Over the next two days, she’d seen him around the resort. Always alone. One time he’d been out on a jet ski. Another time, he’d been pumping iron in the gym. And always with a look on his face that warned he didn’t want company. Yet she sensed that he was interested in her.

  She’d heard one of the hotel employees call him Señor Marshall. And from the sign-up sheet in the gym, she knew that his first name was Zack.

  Had he looked at her name, too?

  Maybe she should walk up to him the next time they encountered each other. What was the worst thing he could do? Send a letter bomb to her room? Tell her that slim blue-eyed blondes weren’t his type at all?

  She’d come to San Marcos because she’d known that if she didn’t get out of the US and away from her high-pressure medical research job, she was going to snap. Luban, the company where she worked, was pressing for a breakthrough on the cancer vaccine project, and she’d just run into another dead end.

  If they fired her for a two-week escape, so be it. But she’d had to get out of the lab and into a totally different environment. So far the peaceful atmosphere of the resort had helped to rejuvenate her. The only thing missing was a romantic adventure. Apparently that was too much to ask. There were maybe 100 guests at El Sol y Enrolla, but few singles, as it turned out.

  Except for Mr Mysterious Marshall. She’d dreamed about him, sensuous and disturbing fantasies that had left her lying in bed with her nipples tight and her sex wet and swollen. Thinking of the dreams brought back the hot sensations that had accompanied them. With a silent curse, she sat down at one of the glass-topped, umbrella-shaded tables that dotted the patio and took a sip of the iced latte she’d brought outside. Perfect as usual. Maybe the cold drink would cool her down.

  Exotic vegetation and flowering shrubs screened the patio. From hidden speakers, the hotel sound system played light sixties rock. Stretching out her legs, she examined their hue. She’d gotten a little tan since she’d been here, but not enough to wipe away her lab-pale skin.

  She had just taken another sip of her latte when a sound that was totally wrong made her head jerk up.

  It came again, and she realized it was gunfire. From an automatic weapon.

  Two dark-haired men dressed in black T-shirts and jeans were running across the beach, firing machine guns as they went.

  To her horror, she saw a man and woman in bathing suits go down, then one of the beach attendants.

  The men with the guns were heading her way, speaking to each other in Spani. Instinctively, she slid off her chair and crouched behind the low wall that separated the terrace from the sand. Fo
otsteps pounded towards her, and every muscle in her body tensed as she waited for one of the men to round the wall and start blasting away at her. But they kept going, into the hotel, where she heard screams and more gunfire. From more than the two guns.

  Lord, what was happening? She’d heard murmurs of political unrest in San Marcos, but she’d never thought it would reach her out here at this isolated resort.

  Apparently she’d been wrong.

  Every instinct urged her to run for her life. But where?

  El Sol y Enrolla was a small resort on an island off the coast. You could only get here by boat or small plane. Which meant that she couldn’t make for the road and get anywhere besides the other side of the island. The road was a bad idea, anyway, because she’d be exposed.

  From inside the hotel, she heard more sounds of carnage. She’d seen two men, but there must be more. Or maybe somebody was shooting back. Either way, horrible images leaped into her mind. How long before men returned and found her?

  Knowing she couldn’t stay where she was, she raised her head and looked around. The beach was clear, except for the dead bodies. She said a silent prayer, then crawled to the other side of the wall. Keeping low, a screen of foliage between her and the terrace, she made for the little hut where white fluffy towels were piled for hotel guests.

  As she reached the shelter, someone streaked to her side, and she froze, thinking that one of the invaders had lingered on the beach, waiting for guests trying to escape.

  But it wasn’t one of the gunmen. It was Zack Marshall, dressed in jeans and a blue polo shirt, coming up beside her.

  “Keep down,” he said, his tone low and hard.

  “I am.” She heard the quaver in her voice, felt herself trembling. When he pulled her close, she closed her eyes and leaned into his strength. He stroked his hand up and down the goosebumps on her arm.

  “What are you doing out here?” she whispered.

  “I was walking. I heard the gunfire. Then I saw you.”