‘Where’s your bedroom?’ he demanded, once they’d reached the top.
She supposed now wasn’t the time to tell him there was only one bedroom—instead she jerked her head in the direction of the nearest door, wishing she had tidied up a bit more. ‘In there.’
But as he kicked it open, Maximo didn’t seem to notice the cardigan lying on the chair or the pile of cookery books teetering in a haphazard pile on the bedside table. Instead, he set her down and spoke in a voice which suddenly seemed much more accented than before and more than a little unsteady.
‘You are wearing far too many clothes,’ he growled, skating his fingertips over her trembling body. ‘And part of me wishes you’d kept that crazy costume on so I could have had the pleasure of removing it. I’ve never undressed an elf before.’
Did that mean he didn’t like her woollen dress? Probably—it was undoubtedly very staid in comparison, though comparisons were never a good thing, certainly not in her case. But as he peeled it over her head before efficiently disposing of her tights, Hollie suddenly forgot about her insecurities.
‘You’re shivering,’ he observed.
‘The upstairs of this cottage is f-freezing.’
‘And is that the only reason you’re shivering?’
She liked the teasing note in his voice. Was it that which gave her the courage to hook her hand around the back of his head and brush her lips close to his?
‘No,’ she whispered. ‘Not just that, no.’
His soft laugh was tinged with faint triumph as he pulled back the duvet and pushed her down onto the mattress. ‘So why don’t you warm up the bed for me?’ he suggested as he pulled the duvet over her. ‘While I get out of these clothes.’
Hollie studied him hungrily as he peeled off his sweater, her mouth drying to dust as his fingers slipped to the button of his trousers. She was grateful that the room was in semi-darkness, which successfully hid the burn of her cheeks as, slowly, he slid the zip down. And she didn’t avert her gaze, not once. Even when he kicked off his boxer shorts to reveal the powerful shaft of his erection, though it was the first time she had ever seen a naked man before.
He climbed into bed beside her and when he took her in his arms, she felt so warm and so...safe—that she buried her head in his shoulder, overcome by a sudden emotion she couldn’t put a name to.
‘Mi belleza...’ he breathed, exploring her trembling flesh with his fingers until she felt as if she were melting, and then unclipping her bra so that her large breasts came tumbling out. And when he put his mouth to her puckered nipple and sucked, Hollie felt as if she were going to dissolve with pleasure.
How could it be that she wasn’t feeling the slightest bit shy? Even though she was wearing nothing but a pair of panties, which were growing damper by the second as she clung to him as if her life depended on it. Because that was what it felt like. As if she hadn’t known what it was to be properly alive before Maximo Diaz kissed her. As if she’d die if she didn’t get more of him. More of this...this fierce flame of desire which was arrowing through her body and setting her on fire, making her feel as if she were on the verge of hurtling towards some place of unimaginable bliss.
‘Maximo,’ she breathed, her voice sounding slurred and nothing like her voice at all. ‘That is so...so incredible.’
His dark head lifted its attention from her breast and his eyes grew smoky as he moved up the bed to kiss her again, his tongue nudging inside her parted lips. And Hollie let her tongue fence with his, loving this brand-new intimacy as her breasts pressed eagerly against his bare chest, as if her button-hard nipples were trying to communicate some unspoken need to him. And instantly he answered it, his hand reaching down to run his fingertip over the damp gusset of her panties. She quivered as he brushed against her swollen bud through the sodden material and felt the whisper of his words on her lip.
‘And so are you.’ He shook his head and swallowed. ‘I never imagined you’d be so...’
‘So, what?’ she questioned breathlessly.
He seemed to recover some of his poise, tugging at the elasticated edge of her plain panties. ‘Well, you’re a little overdressed, for one thing.’
‘Am I?’
‘Mmm...’ For a moment he grazed another teasing fingertip over her damp panties, which made her squirm with delight and frustration, before sliding them off and allowing them to join the tangle of other clothes which were scattered over the floor of her small bedroom. ‘But you are also hot. Surprisingly hot. Like my every fantasy brought to life. Who knew?’
‘So are you,’ she whispered boldly, splaying her fingers over his bare chest and thinking how rich his olive skin looked in the soft lamplight. Tentatively she rubbed at one of his nipples, silently enjoying his corresponding shudder of pleasure which gave her the confidence to return the compliment. ‘You are my every fantasy, too.’
For a moment he grew still, then drew his head away from hers. His black eyes were narrowed but there was no mistaking the sudden warning which glinted from their ebony depths. ‘But fantasies aren’t real,’ he said silkily. ‘We both know that, don’t we?’
‘No, of course they’re not. Absolutely they’re not.’ Eager to convey her agreement, Hollie nodded, instinctively knowing what he wanted, or, more importantly, what he didn’t want. He didn’t want her reading too much into this and falling for him and, to be honest, that was the last thing she wanted either. She didn’t know much about what made men tick but she’d recognised from the get-go that Maximo Diaz was the last person to hitch her star to. Yes, she’d had a crush on him since the first time they’d met and, yes, that feeling had just grown and grown—but she certainly wasn’t alone in feeling that way. That she now found herself naked in bed with him wasn’t something she’d imagined would happen, not in her wildest dreams. That it had happened in a way which seemed completely natural made her feel comfortable with her own body for the first time in her life and she was grateful to him for that. So why should she deny herself the inevitable outcome of them being here like this?
Why should she?
Always, she’d stuck rigidly to the path of convention, because life had felt safer that way. But nothing was ever completely safe and Maximo had been right. For once she wanted to dabble with impulsiveness instead of dependability. She’d never been in love—never wanted to be in love, for that matter—because she’d witnessed the fallout which could result from investing in such an unreliable emotion. She’d never had a boyfriend who had lasted longer than a month and she’d never been turned on enough to get any further than accepting a couple of mechanical fumbles, which had turned her stomach and made her call an instant halt to them.
She’d thought she was one of those women who just didn’t feel physical desire. The kind of woman people used to mock and call frigid. But Maximo Diaz was in the process of demonstrating that there was nothing wrong with her body. Nothing at all. Just so long as she didn’t start entertaining any unrealistic expectations of some kind of future with the Spanish tycoon. Because that wasn’t just impractical—it was stupid.
She closed her eyes as he sank his lips to hers again and moved his hand between her thighs, and Hollie wrapped her arms tightly around his muscular shoulders as if he were her rock and her anchor. How was it possible to feel this good, with a man’s tongue in her mouth and his finger strumming at her bare bud with sweetly accurate intensity? But idle reflection was no longer possible, not when a sudden clench of desire was making her heated body as taut as the string of a newly tuned violin.
‘Maximo!’ she gasped.
He lifted his head, mockery and passion glinting in his eyes. ‘What is it?’ he husked.
She wanted to tell him to stop. She wanted to tell him never to stop. But then it was happening. Her body had started clenching around his finger, with swift and perfect spasms, and she was crying out something which sounded as if it had been to
rn from somewhere deep inside her, as the world splintered into a kaleidoscope of vivid rainbows.
Consciousness receded and then came back again in a slow and sensual comedown. She was dimly aware of him watching her and waiting for her body to grow still. He kissed each tingling nipple in turn and then reached for something he must have put on the locker, which she assumed must be a condom. Because Hollie knew the rules—even if she’d never had to follow them before now—and sex had to be safe.
But his hands seemed to be unsteady as he unpeeled the foil and she watched like a hungry voyeur as he slid the rubber down over his erect shaft. Part of her was wondering why she wasn’t experiencing a faint wrench of embarrassment, or some element of misgiving at the reality of what was about to happen. But Hollie felt none of those things. Her current state of being was so dreamy and so...complete that she simply opened her arms wide as Maximo came to lie down on top of her, welcoming the warm weight of his body.
He was hard and honed and powerful, yet his skin was silky and warm. She was aware of his rigid hardness pressing against her belly and she could feel her thighs opening for him, as if some inner knowledge was orchestrating her movements, making someone with no experience seem as if she knew exactly what she was doing. He gave a low laugh as he positioned himself over her, his lips brushing over hers as she felt his hard tip seeking entry.
‘Do you want me, mi belleza?’
‘Sí,’ she answered and this made him smile, but as he thrust inside her the smile faded, his eyes briefly closing before he opened them again.
She could feel the sudden tension in his body as he stared at her with a question furrowing his brow.
‘Your first time?’ he verified.
She nodded, wondering if she’d imagined the note of disbelief in his voice, the lump in her throat making words impossible, terrified he wouldn’t want her now he knew that nobody else ever had.
But in that she was wrong.
Very wrong.
Very deliberately, he changed his position, reaching underneath her to cushion her fleshy buttocks with the palms of his hands and bring her thighs up to his hips, so that their bodies seemed even closer than before. He kissed her long and he kissed her hard and just the feel of his mouth on hers was enough to make her relax into what was happening as her body adjusted around him and his incredible width. He began to move again, each thrust seeming to fill her completely—and the sensation of his flesh inside her flesh, of somehow being at one with him, blew her mind as nothing ever had before.
Did she wrap her legs around his waist to make his penetration even deeper, or had he guided her into doing that? Hollie wasn’t sure. The only thing she was sure of was that those feelings were building up inside her again, taking her higher and higher towards another incredible peak. And then she reached it. Almost without expecting to, she stumbled over the edge and went into free fall and Hollie screamed out her pleasure—she who had never screamed in her life. As she began to spasm around him, she could feel his body begin to buck with pleasure as he bit out words in fractured Spanish—harsh sounds which seemed to split the night.
His movements seemed to go on and on and never had she been so aware of each and every sensation. She could feel the ragged pull of oxygen into her lungs as she tried to steady her breathing. She could hear the muffled pounding of her heart. There was a fine sheen of sweat on Maximo’s shoulders and she could detect a raw and very distinctive masculine scent in the air. And now he was heavy against her—as heavy as her eyelids, which felt as if they had been weighted with lead. A sigh fluttered from her lips as she snuggled into his arms and she must have dozed off. Perhaps he did too, for when she woke it was to the realisation that he was growing hard inside her again and Hollie gave a hungry little yelp of longing. Her arms tightened around him and as she began to writhe against him, she could hear herself making wordless sounds of demand against his skin.
‘No.’ Cutting short her next wriggle of anticipation with a curt order, he carefully withdrew from her.
She was aware of him rolling away and then, to her horror—he carefully peeled off the condom before getting out of bed. His black hair was ruffled as he stared down at her, his jet eyes unreadable as their gazes clashed.
‘Where’s the bathroom?’
Startled, Hollie searched her befuddled brain for a coherent response. ‘J-just along the corridor. You can’t miss it.’
After he’d gone, she just lay there, her thoughts in a muddle. At first it shamed her to think she’d just been intimate with a man who didn’t even know the layout of her house, but Hollie quickly remonstrated with herself. She wasn’t going to feel any kind of shame—otherwise what would be the point? And she certainly wasn’t going to start getting squeamish and wonder what he’d done with the condom. In fact, she refused to feel any negativity at all about what had just happened. She’d just had sex with a man she fancied very much and it had been amazing. Women the world over did this sort of thing all the time. She had joined the party at last—she certainly hadn’t done anything wrong.
Sitting up in bed, she smoothed down the mussed tumble of her hair and then Maximo walked back into the room—or maybe she should say sauntered—looking totally comfortable with his own nakedness, in all its olive-dark gloriousness. She half expected him to reach for his clothes and start getting dressed, and she told herself she would be okay with that—because what choice did she have?—but to her astonishment, he climbed right back into bed beside her. And then Hollie experienced a little shiver of self-recrimination. Did she think so little of herself that she’d thought he would be out of there as fast as his legs could carry him?
She turned to face him, waiting for him to take the lead, because what did a woman do in a situation like this? She had no idea and no experience. Was she supposed to praise him, or thank him for the most incredible happening of her entire life? Or act all cool, as if it were no big deal? Why didn’t some enterprising person write a sexual etiquette book for virgins? she wondered.
He lay down beside her and for a moment she thought he was about to lean over and kiss her again and, oh, how she wished he would. But instead, he pushed away some of the hair which had fallen into her face and let his gaze scan over her like a dark searchlight.
‘Your first time,’ he said again.
It was half statement and half question. ‘That’s right,’ Hollie replied, swallowing down her sudden nervousness that this was going to turn into some sort of interrogation session and she would come over as a freak. ‘Do you mind?’
‘Mind?’ He seemed to mull this over in his head. ‘Why should I mind? You’re an adult. You have free will. You came to a decision that you wanted to have sex with me. I’m flattered, of course, and more than a little interested to know why.’
She wondered if he was fishing for compliments. Did he want her to say he was so gorgeous that she hadn’t been able to resist him? And wouldn’t that have been the truth? But Maximo Diaz needed no boost for his ego, not from her. Certainly not when he was lying there, dissecting what had just happened between them with all the cool detachment of a scientist in the lab. ‘Does there have to be a reason?’
He shrugged and the ripple of muscle beneath his broad shoulders was more than a little distracting.
‘Most women wait—though I guess you’ve waited quite a long time already—for a long-term relationship in which they can feel comfortable. Something which has a little more depth.’ He paused. ‘And history.’
It sounded like an accusation. Or a reproach. Was he somehow disappointed that she hadn’t made him wait? ‘Maybe I’m not most women.’
‘No. Maybe you’re not. In fact, I would take that as a given. You are certainly very surprising. You confounded my expectations which, believe me, doesn’t happen very often.’ He gave a short laugh before fixing her with that glittering black gaze again, their bodies still very close, the slick of hi
s sweat-sheened skin sticky against hers. ‘So which is the real you, I wonder—the efficient mouse who slaves away behind her desk, or the minxy hostess in fancy dress who wiggles her bottom so provocatively when she walks?’
‘It was the shoes which made me walk that way.’
‘Ah, so we must blame the shoes, must we?’ he questioned gravely.
‘I borrowed them,’ she explained, when she saw the glint of mockery in his eyes. ‘Oh. I see. You’re teasing me.’
‘Yes, I am teasing you, mia belleza,’ he said, and his voice suddenly deepened into a velvety note of intent. ‘But not for very much longer, because teasing inevitably provokes desire. What I would most like to do to you right now is to kiss you again and then to—’
‘Make love?’ she put in eagerly, then could have kicked herself for her naivety, which was surely responsible for the sudden tension which had entered his body.
‘Well, that is one way of describing what we are about to do, though you need to remember that this has nothing to do with love.’ His golden olive features hardened. ‘Love is a concept invented by society. As a bribe, or a threat. As a marketing tool used by big businesses. Or as a method of control—a way of regulating women’s behaviour.’
Hollie opened her mouth to object to what sounded like pure cynicism, until she realised that she agreed with him. Every single word. Hadn’t her own mother carried her supposed ‘love’ for her father around with her like some dark jewel pressed close to her heart—guarding it and polishing it and making it more important than anything else in her life, including her own daughter?
‘What does it have to do with, then?’ she questioned boldly, because why wouldn’t she be bold when she had come this far? When she was naked and glowing with physical satisfaction, even though the turn of the conversation was proving a little too raw for her liking. But then the insistent little clench deep at her core made her realise that she would prefer to stop talking altogether, and start kissing...
Cinderella's Christmas Secret (Mills & Boon Modern) Page 4
