‘Stop,’ she whispered, her eyes wide and pleading, and he didn’t feign innocence.
There was no point.
He knew his desire was stamped on his face and he wouldn’t pretend it didn’t exist. His reputation as a player was well-earned but he didn’t engage in cat-and-mouse games. When he set his sights on a woman he pursued her without pretence. He wouldn’t deny the truth, to Emily or to himself.
And the truth was, he wanted her.
* * *
She’d had too much champagne.
Emily put down her spoon and lowered her gaze from Ramon’s. She couldn’t watch his eyes stare at her mouth a moment longer. Not because she felt scandalised by the brazen interest in his heavy-lidded gaze, but rather because of the wild curiosity pulsing through her. The shocking temptation to lean across the table, part her lips and invite him to take what he wanted in spite of having just now implored him to stop.
Oh, yes. She’d had too much to drink.
And it was time to be sensible. Time to steer the conversation back to safer ground.
Except she’d tried that, hadn’t she? And it hadn’t worked. Worse, now she found herself not wanting to behave sensibly at all. Not yet, at any rate. She was dining in Paris in plush, exotic surroundings with a man who made her think about sex! She was, quite literally, miles removed from her normal, familiar world and she didn’t feel like herself. She felt like Cinderella, and she wasn’t ready for the ball to end.
She lifted her lashes and looked at him. ‘Show me your club,’ she said before good sense prevailed and spoiled her fun. What harm could prolonging the evening cause? Tipsy or not, she wouldn’t do anything foolish. Thinking about kissing Ramon was one thing—acting on the impulse quite another.
He held her gaze, the look in those toffee-coloured eyes dark and deliciously potent.
Warmth blossomed in her stomach. Knowing he would kiss her if she let him filled her with a heady sense of feminine power she’d never experienced before.
He pushed his empty espresso cup aside. ‘What would you like to see?’
‘Everything.’
His lips spread in a slow smile. ‘Then everything it is.’
Their tour of Saphir took almost a full hour. The club was enormous, far more extensive than Emily had imagined and utterly, unapologetically luxurious. They started with the recreation complex, where a full-service health spa and bathhouse operated twenty-four-seven alongside a yoga studio, squash courts, a huge swimming pool and a gymnasium. Despite the late hour, a handful of men and women were sweating it out on the state-of-the-art machines and the sight of their toned, sculpted physiques made Emily uncomfortably conscious of all the calorie-laden food she’d devoured at dinner.
Even more impressive than the recreation wing were the entertainment facilities. In addition to the restaurant where they’d dined, and two other eateries, the club boasted a champagne and caviar bar, a glamorous nightclub and the gorgeous Blue Lounge with its live jazz ensemble, sophisticated cocktail menu and cerulean silk-lined walls.
Emily tried to pay attention to what Ramon was telling her but she absorbed only half of what he said. She couldn’t concentrate. The champagne still fizzed in her bloodstream and the sexual awareness that had shimmered like a desert heat wave across the dinner table all evening seemed only to grow more intense. By the time they stepped into another lift to travel to yet another floor, Emily felt as if she were caught in the grip of a blistering fever—one that was burning up her mind as much as it was her body.
She couldn’t stop looking at him. Couldn’t stop thinking that he really was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. His bone structure was nothing short of magnificent, his face a perfect landscape of hard, contoured angles. And his mouth...
‘Emily.’
The warning in Ramon’s tone only vaguely registered. She felt giddy, drunk not on champagne but on the pheromones drenching her senses, and the speed of the lift shooting them skywards wasn’t helping. She stumbled forward, and she couldn’t honestly say if she’d done so by accident or on purpose. Ramon caught her, just as he had that day in her father’s office, but this time she was prepared for the impact of hard muscle, the swathe of masculine heat, that instantly engulfed her. Their gazes tangled for breathless seconds, and when the lift doors whispered open neither of them moved.
‘Are we getting out?’ Her voice was husky. Alien. Not at all her own.
The doors started to close and Ramon reached his hand out to halt them, his other hand remaining on her hip. ‘That’s your call.’
‘Why mine?’
‘Because this is the penthouse.’
She blinked. The feverishness in her blood made the act of thinking a challenge. Or maybe it was the intimate press of her curves against his hard body, the hot imprint of his hand on her hip, that scrambled her brain. ‘The penthouse?’
‘A private suite.’
His gaze probed and she needed only a second to interpret the question blazing in his eyes. Only a second longer for the curiosity she’d failed to stem to flare brighter, wilder, in her veins. If she waited one more second, sanity would intervene and she’d be saved. Saved from doing something foolish, reckless and totally out of character.
And then she’d go home to London and never know how it felt to be kissed by a man as beautiful as Ramon.
She didn’t wait. She rose up on tiptoes, the sweet lure of anticipation combined with a surge of heart-pounding adrenalin giving her the courage she needed to press her lips to his.
Her first impression was of warmth. Her second, of how firm and perfect his lips felt against hers. She pressed harder, heard a rough sound like a harsh, stifled exclamation climb his throat, and then his mouth opened over hers and suddenly they were kissing, really kissing and... Lord. It was everything she’d imagined and more. Passionate. Molten. Consuming.
One strong arm looped around her waist and suddenly her feet floated off the floor. Their mouths still fused, he walked them out of the lift. When her toes touched the floor again and his mouth slid off hers, a sound that was half-protest, half-plea fell from her parted lips. She opened her eyes and got a fleeting impression of plush surroundings and muted lighting before her gaze centred on Ramon. His other arm came around her, encircling her fully as he dragged her close, and she didn’t flinch. Didn’t try to escape despite the unfamiliarity of being held.
His gaze roved her face, settled on her mouth. ‘Do you know how long I’ve thought about doing that?’
She stared up at him. Her lips tingled, aching for the return of his. ‘Since Tuesday?’
He shook his head, one corner of his sexy mouth lifting. ‘The first time we met.’ He tugged her closer and coils of heat kindled in her belly. ‘You were so cool. So superior.’ He lifted a hand and brushed the pad of his thumb over her lower lip. ‘I wanted to kiss the prim, haughty smile you gave me right off your beautiful face.’
Somehow, through the thick haze of desire shrouding her senses, her mind summoned a sliver of indignation. ‘And I wanted to slap yours.’
He laughed, unabashed, and then as swiftly as it had arisen his amusement vanished and the dark, smouldering look that made her stomach swoop was back. He removed her clutch from her hand, her wrap from over her forearm, and dropped the items onto a sleek, red lounge chair. His jacket followed and then he returned to stand before her.
Heart racing, Emily pressed her palm to the centre of his chest. When she spoke her voice belonged to someone else. Someone she didn’t recognise. ‘What happens in Paris stays in Paris.’
Another of those slow, sensual smiles slanted his mouth. ‘As the lady wishes,’ he murmured, and wrapped his fingers around her wrist. He raised her hand to his mouth, kissed her knuckles then turned her palm up and bit the base of her thumb.
Emily’s breath caught on a soft gasp. The sharp press of his teeth followed by the velvet slide of his tongue was unexpected—and surprisingly erotic. Her spine loosened, her legs went weak, and th
en he was scooping her into his arms, holding her effortlessly against his broad chest, as he strode through the suite. Seconds later he set her feet down and she barely had time to register they were in a bedroom before he was kissing her again, the heat of his mouth on hers even more explosively potent than before. Wantonly, she slid her arms around his neck and revelled in the earthy scent of him, the hot, bold stroke of his tongue against hers and the branding heat of his palms through her dress as they took possession of her hips.
His hands slid downwards, cupped her buttocks, and a low groan rumbled up his throat. He pulled her against him hard, pelvis to pelvis, giving Emily her first taste of the sheer strength and size of his erection. Before she could acknowledge the dart of apprehension in her stomach, his fingers hooked into the soft, clingy fabric of her dress and tugged upwards. ‘Lift your arms,’ he commanded against her mouth.
Willingly she obeyed, stretching her arms above her head, and he dispensed with the dress with a speed and ease that suggested he was well-versed in the art of removing women’s clothing—a thought Emily refused to dwell upon as she stood before him in nothing but her heels, her cream satin underwear and her pearl necklace. She reached for him, partly to disguise her self-consciousness, and partly because she craved the return of his heated body against hers.
But he took a step back. ‘Patience, mi belleza,’ he said throatily, his accent more pronounced now, and she dropped her arms helplessly back to her sides. His gaze trailed over her. Hot. Intense. ‘I have seen you naked in my mind many times,’ he said. ‘I want to know if my imagination did you justice.’ He started to move, walking around her in a slow, deliberate circle, his unhurried appraisal of her near-naked body setting fire to every inch of her exposed flesh.
Her legs trembled, barely supporting her. She closed her eyes. ‘Ramon...’
‘I like hearing you say my name.’ His voice came from behind her and she felt the silk of his shirt brush her shoulder blades. Still he didn’t touch her. ‘Say it again.’
She swallowed. ‘Ramon.’
‘Yes, Emily?’
Excitement made her heart pound, the tension and build-up of anticipation proving unbearably sexy.
Without warning he drove his hands into her hair, his fingers spearing deep and tangling in the mass of soft curls. He tugged her head back against his shoulder and put his mouth against her ear. ‘What do you want?’ he rasped.
‘I want you to touch me.’
‘Where?’ His voice was rough, laced with satisfaction and a dark note of carnality that made her insides quiver.
‘Everywhere,’ she whispered, and felt a deep shudder move through him.
His hands came around her waist and just the hot slide of his palms across her naked midriff triggered a rush of liquid heat between her legs. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her bare shoulder and she arched her back, her breasts aching with an instinctive need that he answered by cupping his hands under them and dragging his thumbs over their tips.
She moaned, luxuriating in the sensations his touch was evoking. But she wanted more. She wanted skin against skin. Blindly, she grabbed at the straps of her bra and yanked them down, knocking his hands away in the process.
‘Sí, mi belleza.’ His voice rumbled with approval. ‘That’s right. Show me what you want.’
She did. She seized his hands and moulded them to her bare breasts, her back arching again as he rolled her hardened nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. A little cry of pleasure escaped her, then he was kissing her neck, and she could feel his erection nudging her bottom, teasing her curiosity until she could no longer bear to stand passive. With a boldness that ordinarily would’ve shocked her, she reached back and palmed his groin, and even through his trousers she could feel how thick he was. How hard. For her.
That heady sense of feminine power surged again, throbbing in her veins like a potent aphrodisiac. ‘More,’ she croaked. ‘I want more.’
Shifting his weight, he swung her off her feet, took three long strides and set her down on the edge of an enormous bed dressed in soft, luxurious linens. His dark gaze locked on hers, he stepped back, tugged his shirt out of his waistband and began unbuttoning it.
Her mouth filled with moisture and she stared up at him, mesmerised by the prospect of watching him strip down to nothing right in front of her.
With deft hands he peeled off his shirt and dropped it on the floor, and Emily’s eyes widened.
He was utter perfection, his torso lean and chiselled, his skin like golden satin over ridges of steel. She wanted just to sit there and look at him, take the time to indulge in a leisurely inspection, as he’d done with her. But he toed off his shoes, dropped to his knees in front of her and plunged one hand into her hair, tugging her forward so that her face was close to his.
‘How much more?’
She licked her lips. ‘All of it.’
Eyes gleaming, he leaned in and claimed her mouth with a searing kiss that promised her she would get exactly what she’d asked for. Then his lips travelled down her throat, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses over her sensitised skin until he reached the hard tip of her right breast.
She arched towards him before he’d even taken her nipple into his mouth. And when he did...it was exquisite, the pleasure almost unbearable. Her hands flew to his head of their own accord, her fingers streaking into the thick, dark strands of his hair, holding him to her as he mercilessly sucked her nipple into a tight, ultra-sensitive point. And then he lavished the same attention on her other breast and she dropped her head back, wondering if she might die from the blistering heat she could feel building inside her like an out-of-control inferno.
Her bra was still strung around her ribs and he unhooked it, threw it aside then pushed her back on the bed and dragged her knickers off with such efficiency, she had no time to feel hesitant or shy. But when he grasped her knees, eased them apart and lowered his head, her body tensed.
Pausing, Ramon glanced up from between her legs, hunger, heat and a clear, white-hot intent burning in his eyes. ‘You wanted it all,’ he reminded her thickly.
Yes...but she hadn’t been thinking about oral sex. She’d never gone there before. The ex-boyfriend with whom she’d had her one, uninspiring sexual relationship had never initiated it and neither had she. And, while she was guilty of having entertained X-rated thoughts about Ramon’s hands and mouth, she hadn’t considered how it might feel to have his mouth on her there.
But, heaven help her, she wanted to know.
She relaxed her muscles, inviting him to do as he pleased, and the first stroke of his tongue elicited a shocked gasp and sent a bolt of red-hot sensation through her that made her body jerk against his mouth. With a broad hand flattened over her stomach, he anchored her to the bed and her breath seesawed on another gasp as he gently parted her with his fingers, giving his tongue deeper, more intimate access.
Oh, God.
She’d never known anything like it before. Had never experienced this tight, quickening sensation in her body. Had never imagined she would enjoy being pleasured in this way. He slid a finger inside her, finding a spot with his fingertip that seemed to set off an electric current deep within her core. She felt taut, tingly, as if her body were a high-voltage wire coiling tighter and tighter around his finger. He pushed deeper, flicked his tongue, and before she understood what was happening she came, every muscle in her body tensing with surprise and the sudden, unexpected eruption of pleasure.
As her limbs went from rigid to limp, she panted his name, once, twice, and he raised himself over her, his smile a study in male satisfaction. ‘That’s right, dulzura,’ he murmured, tracing a line between her breasts with the tip of one finger. ‘Get used to saying my name. You are going to scream it many times before we are done.’
CHAPTER SIX
EMILY WOULD HAVE told him how cocky he sounded if her flesh wasn’t already crying out again for his touch.
She’d never experienced an orgasm like that
before, yet he’d coaxed her to that sensational, mind-shattering peak with seemingly little effort.
He dropped a kiss on her mouth then levered himself to his feet, unbuckled his belt and pulled his zipper down, his gaze all the while tracking her naked, climax-flushed body.
Suddenly conscious that she was sprawled on the bed like some open-legged, sacrificial offering, Emily quickly closed her thighs and clambered backwards until she encountered the pillows. For a moment she thought she saw amusement flicker over his handsome face, but then he pushed his trousers and underwear down, kicked them off and straightened.
The air deserted Emily’s lungs in a rush. Ramon de la Vega was a big man in every conceivable way and, though she was inexperienced—her sexual history confined to one partner—she knew she was small down there. Tight. Her pelvic muscles clenching with just a touch of apprehension, she watched him extract a condom from the bedside drawer, tear open the foil and roll on the sheath.
He climbed onto the bed, pulled her beneath him and kissed her, and this time she took full advantage of the opportunity to touch him, sliding her hands across the smooth skin of his shoulders, over his chest with its light smattering of hair and down the hard, ridged muscles of his abdomen. Apprehension giving way to need and excitement, she reached lower, curled her hand around his hot, rigid length and felt him tense. She tightened her hold and he growled something in Spanish against her mouth.
His knee came between her legs, pushing her thighs apart, and when he disengaged her hand from his shaft and then touched her just as intimately she could tell she was slick by the way his finger easily slipped into her. He added a second finger, stretching her a little further, and she gasped as he found the same hypersensitive spot he had earlier. A moment later he withdrew his fingers and the head of his erection replaced his hand. He stilled, poised above her, eyes locked on hers. ‘Say my name.’
A Night, A Consequence, A Vow Page 8