The Spaniard's Revenge

by Susan Stephens

  ‘You may never get a chance to see anything like this again,’ Xavier said, his warm breath so close to her earlobe she had to stop herself nuzzling into him to enjoy the rasp of the rough stubble on his face. Sophie made a valiant effort to take it all in. Vibrant costumes…men in reds and ochre, deep blues and white. Neat red hats, almost fez-like in shape. Women transformed into butterflies—richly embroidered skirts, vivid woven shawls and headgear. ‘I like the pancakes,’ she murmured dreamily.

  ‘Pancakes?’

  The regular pulse of his breathing was caressing the most highly sensitised part of her neck relentlessly. ‘How do they keep them in place?’ she managed weakly. ‘Hats like pancakes…’ As her voice trailed away, Xavier smiled.

  ‘Are you losing it?’ he suggested huskily.

  ‘Yes.’ And she was—losing control that was, willingly, thankfully.

  ‘Shall I try and find out where we’re sleeping?’ he murmured softly.

  ‘Yes…yes please.’

  Taking hold of Sophie’s arm, Xavier urged her away from the semicircle of onlookers and steered her towards the other side of the clearing. The accommodation some villagers directed them to was a small building set apart from the rest of the village. As Xavier pushed open the door Sophie saw the windows had been flung wide to allow the cool evening breeze to curl around the sleeping area. She swallowed as she looked at it. A vast raised area in the middle of the room, far larger than a conventional marriage bed, was covered in numerous throws, rugs and pillows in soft shades of madder, rust, coral and magenta. The only light came from a flickering oil lamp, and there was some incense burning in one corner giving off a soft and seductive scent.

  A curl of amusement tugged at Xavier’s lips as he looked at her. ‘You’re not having second thoughts, are you, Sophie?’

  Sophie’s breath caught in her throat as she looked at him. ‘How long will we be here?’

  ‘Just overnight.’

  ‘And then?’ She almost didn’t want him to answer that. Now should have been enough…

  ‘You know,’ he said gently, resting his hands on her shoulders as he dipped his head to drop a kiss on the nape of her neck. ‘Back to Lima, and then on to Spain. Why? Are you sick of me already?’

  His eyes were dark, and the shadowy play of light on his features carved his face into a new, harsher image—one she felt wary of and drawn to all at the same time. ‘Overnight’s not too bad. I’m sure I can tolerate such a very small dose of you.’

  ‘What do you think would happen if we increase the dose, Doctor?’

  Sophie’s faltering heart picked up pace. ‘I…I don’t know,’ she murmured, her gaze locked on his. ‘Would it be safe?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Xavier said huskily, running the palms of his hands very lightly down her arms. ‘I haven’t completed my examination yet.’

  ‘You haven’t?’

  ‘No,’ he murmured, smiling a little. ‘It’s time to open wide and say ah, Dr Ford.’

  As Sophie’s lips parted to chastise him he claimed her mouth with a fierce, possessive hunger and didn’t release her until she was moving against him with the same desperate urgency. She knew she had missed him, she just hadn’t known how much. She could never have anticipated the climax that overtook her—that made his arms drag her close to support her when her legs weakened beneath her. Throwing her head back, she cried out, first in surprise and then in ecstasy as the violent spasms rippled through her in an intense rhythmical sequence that seemed without end.

  Kissing her and soothing her, Xavier murmured to her constantly in Spanish, the heat in his words intensifying her pleasure—passionate words of encouragement as he watched the waves of enjoyment consume her, and then finally, when she had quietened, much gentler words of love. ‘Remind me to rethink my examination techniques,’ he teased huskily against her mouth. ‘Anyone would think you’d had to wait a long time for that.’

  ‘I have,’ Sophie complained softly. ‘Almost a day.’

  ‘As long as that?’ he murmured wryly. ‘Then I shall have to make sure you never have to wait so long again. But first—’

  ‘What?’

  ‘A bath, I think. You’re still covered in mud, querida, and, much as I would like to lick every inch of your body, a bath would bring us both so much pleasure—’

  ‘Can we?’

  ‘Oh, I think so,’ Xavier confirmed, leading her by the hand to some doors that led out on to a small clearing. ‘When I was asked by the villagers what we would like—what they could do for us to bring us pleasure, I thought of only one thing.’

  Following his gesture, Sophie saw a large tin bath on a raised platform. And the water was warm, she discovered, dabbling her fingers into its fragrant depths, and there were flower petals floating on the surface of the water…

  ‘Big enough for two?’ Xavier commented, breaking into her mental meanderings.

  ‘I hope so,’ Sophie said, turning to look up at him.

  ‘Do you want me to take them off for you?’

  ‘What? Oh…’ Her voice broke on a sigh as he began removing her clothes, his strong fingers brushing her sensitised skin, tantalising her beyond reason. She shivered with delight when at last he came to the tiny thong she was wearing and she stepped out of it.

  Lifting her in his arms, Xavier carefully lowered her into the bath, and then, stripping off his own clothes, he joined her at the facing end. Leaning forward, he dragged her close so that her legs were parted wide and secured around his waist. Then, cupping her breasts in each hand, he chafed each blatantly erect nipple with his hard thumb pads, chafed them with remorseless intent as he stared deep into her eyes, enjoying the pleasure he saw reflected there.

  Sophie’s breath came on a soft groan of surprise and delight. It was as if none of her needs had ever been answered before by him—as if her hunger had returned refreshed, un-sated and redoubled. She needed him like never before; needed the touch of his knowing hands and the tug of his probing fingers, the nip of his strong, white teeth and the relentless purpose of his tongue when he lodged first one nipple and then the next against the firm roof of his mouth and began to suckle. She needed it all…all at the same time. Now. Letting out a long, ragged sigh, she admitted huskily, ‘I’ve missed you so much.’

  ‘And I you,’ Xavier admitted, pausing to stare at her. ‘You’re quite right—a day is far, far too long…especially when you have the most spectacular breasts—’ Lifting them gently, he feasted his eyes on the blatant signs of her arousal so clearly reflected in the almost painful erection of each prominent rose-tinted nipple. ‘You were made for this,’ he promised, whipping her senses to a new height of awareness with his penetrating stare. ‘Made for me,’ he said huskily, bending to capture one pink tip very lightly between his teeth. ‘Deny it?’ he challenged, pulling back.

  ‘I have no wish to deny it,’ Sophie assured him, linking her fingers behind his head to bring him back to her again.

  After a while, when her soft rhythmic moans told him that she was all sensation, he replaced his mouth with his fingers and watched her responses with fierce enjoyment as he alternately tugged and caressed. Sophie wasn’t capable of speech any longer. Even breathing was more effort than she wanted to make—she was scarcely aware that she was panting just to keep pace with her heart.

  ‘And now I shall wash you, prepare you—’

  Could she take any more? Sophie wondered as Xavier’s whisper connected with an inner ear that seemed to have a direct line to every erotic zone she possessed. And then, as he nuzzled his stubble-roughened face against her neck, she could only whimper in encouragement.

  The touch of his hands brushing against her as he wielded the sponge was electrifying. He left no inch of her untouched. And then when he tossed the sponge aside she made no complaint when his arms tightened around her waist and he lifted her, cupping her buttocks as she held herself in the position he wanted, and then settling her down so very slowly until she was completely filled b
y him.

  ‘That is the most incredible sensation I’ve ever experienced,’ Sophie admitted softly, resting against him with her head buried into his shoulder.

  ‘I’ve warned you before not to speak too soon,’ Xavier murmured, lifting her again until he had withdrawn almost completely from the moist warmth of her clamouring muscles.

  ‘Again,’ Sophie urged him hoarsely, ‘again.’

  ‘Cierto, querida,’ Xavier agreed, taking control. But he took his time and would not increase the pace as she wanted so that when the moment came for her, it was in a reason-dousing firestorm of sensation. She was hardly aware that he lifted her out of the bath, or laughed softly as he went to lay her on the bed.

  ‘What happened to my bath?’ she demanded groggily, reaching for him as he came to stretch out beside her.

  ‘What bath?’ he teased, seizing her fingers in his mouth to suck when she went to stroke his face. ‘There’s not a drop of water left.’

  ‘There isn’t?’ Sophie sighed with confusion. ‘How did that happen?’

  ‘I wonder?’ Xavier murmured sardonically, ‘Like this perhaps,’ he said, capturing her hands lightly in his as he mounted her. And this time he took her where they both needed to be quickly and efficiently, using firm regular strokes that had her bucking and crying out in surprised delight as she climaxed beneath him again.

  ‘I can’t believe it,’ she murmured softly later when they were lying together looking into each other’s eyes.

  ‘What can’t you believe, amada?’

  ‘There was a time when just the thought of a man touching me was enough to make me flinch… And now this—’ She raised her eyebrows expressively. It was about all the movement she felt capable of right then.

  Pulling her close, Xavier kissed the top of her head. ‘I can’t bear it when you say things like that,’ he murmured huskily. ‘I can’t bear to think I wasn’t there to protect you.’

  ‘But you’re here now,’ Sophie said, seeking a deeper place in his embrace.

  ‘I want to show you in every way I can that love isn’t about possession and violence,’ Xavier said, pulling back so that he could look deep into her eyes. ‘It should be something tender and beautiful between two people. Exquisite, sensational, fun—even boisterous—but never, never cruel, Sophie, never unkind.’

  ‘You’re kind,’ Sophie whispered. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Don’t ever thank me,’ he warned. Tipping her chin up so she was forced to look into his eyes, he said softly, ‘You should never have to thank me just for being kind.’ And then his lips cut her off before she could answer him, and his arms closed around her again and they were making love, so that she only cared for the moment, only knew that she wanted him, and that Xavier made her complete.

  ‘What’s this?’ Sophie murmured later when she finally managed to tear her gaze away from the broad span of Xavier’s tanned shoulders and the band of muscle across his stomach as well as all the other remarkable assets he had encouraged her to feast upon. The object that had briefly claimed her interest was a large earthenware pot resting on a low table beside the bed. ‘Is it in case we get hungry?’ she guessed, raising the lid curiously.

  Xavier groaned with satisfaction like a big cat basking in the sun. Stretching out his gleaming bronzed limbs, he turned his head lazily. ‘Not food,’ he drawled sleepily.

  ‘What is it then?’

  ‘Perhaps the villagers thought you might need a little encouragement.’

  ‘Encouragement?’ Sophie lifted the pot and put it on the pillows between them. There was some sort of thick cream inside and a delicious aroma began to fill the room. ‘What’s it for if we don’t eat it?’

  ‘Roll over,’ Xavier instructed, ‘and I’ll show you.’

  With a last curious glance, Sophie did as she was told and rolled on to her back. She watched as Xavier dipped his fingers deep into the cream and them withdrew his hand so that she could see how it coated his fingers.

  ‘It is edible,’ he confirmed, licking his fingers with obvious pleasure.

  Settling her head back on the mound of comfortable cushions, her hands indolently crossed beneath it, Sophie murmured, ‘My turn now.’ She licked it off appreciatively as Xavier brought his hand to her lips. ‘It’s delicious. I don’t understand—’

  ‘It’s used to massage the bride on her wedding night,’ Xavier informed her, his dark eyes mesmerising as they penetrated every inch of her, filling her with heat. ‘To enhance sensation, to prepare her.’

  ‘It’s a bit late for that.’

  ‘You’d be surprised,’ he murmured. ‘And it would be very rude of us to refuse such a gift when it’s been left here expressly for our pleasure.’

  ‘Do you believe in its properties?’ Sophie said curiously.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Xavier said, pretending to frown, ‘but I do think we should conduct some clinical trials.’

  ‘Xavier!’ But it was too late. He had already scooped up a good portion of cream from the pot and was applying it to her body with firm, rhythmical strokes.

  ‘The old rituals include a massage with a cream derived from a particular tree,’ Xavier murmured, his voice strangely soothing, while his touch had the opposite effect. ‘That sap is said to possess magical properties that enhance sensation.’

  Sophie’s breath caught in her throat. ‘I think it’s working.’

  ‘You do?’ he murmured, pausing for a moment.

  Sophie’s whole body was alive with sensation, but it was the erotic challenge in Xavier’s dark gaze that triumphed over her scientific mind. ‘Why shouldn’t it?’ she said softly. ‘If they’ve been using it here for thousands of years, who am I to doubt it?’

  ‘And is that your reasoned conclusion?’ Xavier demanded, holding his hands away from her just to tantalise her all the more.

  ‘I don’t think reason has much to do with it,’ Sophie admitted, dragging him back again.

  ‘Was that good?’ Xavier murmured much, much later.

  Good? Good didn’t come anywhere close to describing what she had experienced with him, Sophie realised. ‘Stunning,’ she admitted softly, rolling on to her back again. She had the satisfaction of hearing Xavier’s sharp intake of breath. Would he ever have enough of her? She hoped not.

  ‘Brazen hussy,’ he murmured accusingly, stretching his length against hers on the bed. Not quite touching her, he rested his chin on one elbow and stared into her eyes while he traced the contours of her face with his other hand. Dipping his head, he kissed her briefly on the lips.

  ‘Please,’ Sophie groaned softly against his mouth, feeling desire flare inside her again.

  ‘Please?’ Xavier murmured, pretending not to understand—though his eyes told her he did, and only too well.

  ‘You know what I mean…what I want,’ she insisted.

  ‘Don’t be so greedy,’ he cautioned in a low voice.

  ‘But Xavier, I—’

  ‘But what, querida?’

  ‘Don’t make me beg,’ Sophie warned, only half-joking.

  The suspicion of a grin tugged insistently at his expressive mouth as he trailed his fingers down over her neck and on to her shoulders and watched her quiver beneath his touch. And his eyes were dancing with laughter, Sophie saw, writhing in torment beneath his touch. ‘I warn you—’

  ‘You do?’ He seemed even more amused by this last declaration.

  ‘I can’t… I won’t—’ Making a supreme effort, Sophie made a feeble attempt to get away, get up. If he wasn’t going to—

  ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ he growled, dragging her back easily, and securing her beneath his controlling weight.

  ‘Nowhere apparently, so now what?’ she challenged softly.

  ‘Now this,’ Xavier said huskily, moving down until he could take one of her painfully erect nipples between gently questing teeth. At the same time he took possession of her other breast, gently tugging and rolling the twin of the first tight bud between his thumb a
nd forefinger while his palms nursed and caressed her at the same time.

  Sensation she had anticipated, but somehow he had raised the game; this was something else, something so extreme, so pleasurable—yet every time she managed to slip under his guard and move against him he allowed her only the briefest moment of satisfaction before gently holding her off…and all the while he was moving lower, lavishing kisses on her belly and then lower still so that finally she moved her legs wide for him in shameless invitation. When she rested her legs over his shoulders and his tongue touched her there, Sophie knew she was lost. All she could do was submit to sensation and allow Xavier to control the pace of their lovemaking. He was so skilled, so instinctive and perceptive that wherever he led she would follow, and whatever he wanted she would give to him.

  As she cried out his name and begged him to come to her, Xavier moved again, lifting himself away until he could stare into her eyes. Then, seeing the trust and need reflected there, he took possession of her completely with one fulfilling and compelling thrust.

  It was only when dawn’s silver fingers entered the room that they returned grudgingly to reality. It was like waking from a dream, Sophie mused. After the sultry excesses of the dark perfumed night, the new day showed things up in a very different light. She had slipped back into her role as Xavier’s mistress…and it was nothing more, she warned herself, however much she liked to fantasise about their future together. And Xavier was already pacing impatiently about the room like a tiger with a thorn in its pad, tossing the covers about as if the long hours of sensual indulgence between them had never taken place.

  ‘What is it?’ she said. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘My wristband,’ he said briefly. ‘It’s gone.’

  Instantly alert, Sophie started searching the bedcovers. ‘When?’