‘You got Paolo to bring you condoms?’ she shrieked.
‘It seemed like a practical solution.’ He shrugged. ‘I did not have any.’
She glared at him. He probably did that all the time—sent his assistants out for a coffee and cake and another two dozen condoms because he burned through them so quickly. He was a sex-driven devil. But, heaven help her, hadn’t she just benefitted from all that wealth of experience?
‘Have you no shame?’ She turned and took to the stairs, furious with him. She heard his laugh behind her.
‘You seem to have enough for the both of us.’ He grabbed her arm, stopping her, and turned her to look at him. ‘Truly, Catriona,’ he said softly. ‘There are far worse things to be shamed by.’
His words had that core ring of truth to them. But she didn’t want to know the truth. She wanted... She didn’t know what she wanted any more.
He waited three steps below her, his eyes just that little bit beneath hers. Beautiful, deep brown eyes. That half smile was so sexy. So assured. And so maddening.
Those hot moments in that small dark space had been the most erotic of her life. That was what she rebelled against. That a man she didn’t want to like could bring her to her knees like that. So easily. So carelessly. How was she supposed to protect herself from him when he overwhelmed her so completely? How could she not get hurt in this?
‘I don’t want to want you like this,’ she admitted with a raw edge to her voice. ‘I’m leaving.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘Do you really think you can walk away right now?’
‘Why not?’ She shrugged, dropping her gaze. ‘We’ve finally had sex. It’s over.’
‘It is anything but over.’
‘Once was enough.’
He laughed outright at that—but now there was little humour in the sound. ‘Was it? Then why are you still fighting me? Why all this heated passion if it doesn’t matter?’
‘What matters is how you manipulated that to get what you wanted.’
‘But it was what you wanted too. I’m not the villain here. I did what you asked me to.’
Heaven help her, she hadn’t only asked. She’d begged. And she wanted to beg again.
He wasn’t going to give her everything she wanted and needed. But did that really matter? She’d thought she’d found that with James and she couldn’t have been more wrong. Maybe she did just need a release for once. Something easy and fun and meaningless. Something that wouldn’t matter at all in the long run.
‘I just hate letting you win,’ she confessed.
And she wasn’t that much of a prize anyway. Once he’d seen her—once he’d had her again...
‘Don’t you understand?’ He climbed the two steps until he was right in front of her. ‘We’re both winning.’
‘You really want to win this?’ She swept off her tee, baring her entire body.
She’d never been as exposed to anyone. Never in the broad daylight like this.
His jaw dropped, his hungry gaze raked down her pale, freckled, angular body. ‘Catriona.’
She didn’t get the chance to reply or to run. She was in his arms and his kiss was utterly demanding. Utterly dominant.
And she surrendered totally. Her knees buckled and he lowered her exactly where she was, until she was prone on the staircase. He undid his trousers, kicking them off in a fury. That was when she completely forgot about how she looked. All her focus was on him—the expanse of golden skin and the play of powerful muscles just beneath the surface, the masculine whirls of hair on his chest that then arrowed down in a trail of delight to... She swallowed and her womb pulsed at the sight of him. He was physical perfection. She was hurled straight back into that maelstrom of passion and need and unquenched, unbridled lust.
‘Please. Please. Please.’ Not a plea, a command. She wanted to touch him. Taste. Feel. She was almost in tears with the need to have him.
He left her for a moment, muttering unintelligibly as he struggled to open the box of condoms and sheath himself.
But then he was back just a step below her butt, on his knees between her legs and grasping her hips firmly. He held her high, controlling her position so he could take her as completely, as dominantly as possible. And watch while he was at it—she was sprawled on the staircase before him, so exposed, and he devoured her with raw lust.
For a second he met her gaze; his eyes were dark and intense and so filled with desire. She panted breathlessly, spellbound. Never had she seen passion this raw. Never had she felt it in herself. The strength of it made her shake. Made her hungry. She was more aroused than she’d ever been in her life.
His gaze narrowed. He knew. He saw it in her, felt it in her. His face flushed. She saw his own control slip as his gaze burned down her bared body again—from her jutting breasts to her waist, to her slick, hungry sex.
‘I just have to—’ He held her firm and bucked his hips, impaling her to the core.
‘Yes.’
‘This time,’ he groaned determinedly as he thrust deep inside her again. ‘This time we can take our time.’
But there was no taking time for her. Not when he was grinding so hard against her and so deep inside her and all she could see was his powerful body pressing its passionate intent on hers. She was there already. Arched and taut as a bowstring.
‘Alejandro!’ The orgasm shattered her. She cried in unashamed ecstasy.
‘Damn it, Kitty,’ he growled as he held her hips more tightly and thrust harder, deeper, his eyes wide and wild as he stared down at her. ‘You make me—’
He broke off as a guttural shout burst from him. His veins popped, his skin glistened as he strained, fighting the pleasure that had already consumed him. Because there was no taking time for him either. ‘Kitty,’ he choked.
She laughed with exultant delight as he thrust that one last time, striving for the ultimate satisfaction with her. She squeezed hard and tight, cresting again as he was ravaged. She rode the rigours rocking his body as his orgasm exploded, and she relished the lack of control he had in that moment.
Serenity and satisfaction flooded her cells as he slumped heavily over her. And then the cold trickle of reality came. She closed her eyes, needing to scrape together some sort of emotional defence. But she was shocked at the uncontrollable, furious chemistry they seemed to share. They’d just acted like wild animals, mating on the staircase in about twenty seconds flat.
Slowly he disengaged and rose to his knees, gazing down at where she still lay, sprawled down the stairs, naked and unable to move. His eyes glinted as he seemed to read her mind. ‘You think we’re done?’ He shook his head as he bent and scooped her into his arms. ‘We’re very far from done.’
CHAPTER NINE
ALEJANDRO ROLLED ON to his back, appreciating the softness of the mattress beneath him as he pulled Kitty to rest on his shoulder. The bed was better than the hard floor but was too narrow for total comfort. He breathed out, satisfied. Finally he’d managed to have her the way he’d wanted to—taking his time, making her come again and then again before finally letting himself go.
He’d had to make it up to her because in all his life he’d never lost control as quickly as he had when he’d finally first entered her, locked in that little room. Her tight, writhing body had blown his mind, his orgasm impossible to delay. He groaned inwardly at the speed of it. It must have been the lack of condom—the first time in his life he’d taken such a risk. He knew it had been foolishness, but being with her had felt so good, his skin now goosebumped at the recollection. He still didn’t know how he’d managed to pull out. It had nearly killed him at the time.
He couldn’t take that risk again. He didn’t think he’d have the strength to leave her like that a second time anyway.
But he’d had to have her again—especially when sh
e’d started to build walls between them. That second time on the stairwell hadn’t been much better, with his pleasure literally coming too soon. Even with a condom his control had not been brilliant. But seeing her body then, watching her response and the emotions flashing in her eyes? She was exquisite—her breasts high, her nipples dusky, her waist narrow and at that private heart of her there was a thatch of that fiery-coloured hair... And it turned out that the skin that had been silken and warm beneath his lips in the dark room was moon-pale and luminous, and gently dusted with rose-gold freckles—they covered her shoulders, arms, breasts, thighs...every part of her. He’d traced patterns of them with his tongue, desperate to taste every inch of her, fascinated.
She’d not liked being naked in the light. She’d not wanted to admit how much she’d wanted him again. Her anger had flared. But when it had burned off, pure desire remained. She’d become passion incarnate—as voracious and as victorious as he.
He’d carried her up to the shower, then had her again up here in her bed. Yet, even now, despite the residual ache in his muscles, he felt his hunger stirring.
She was stirring too—wriggling away from him. He turned to read her expression but she was studying the ceiling with grim determination.
‘You can leave now,’ she said quietly. ‘It’s a bit cramped in here.’
He froze. Was she ordering him from her bed? Seriously? Before he’d even had the chance to catch his breath and cool down? Not if he had anything to do with it. She was not calling time yet.
‘It’s not that small.’ He inched down determinedly.
‘I’m hot.’
His body stiffened in instinctive reaction to the dismissive challenge in her voice. ‘Then we’ll take off the coverings.’ He kicked the blanket to the floor and pushed the sheet to her hips. ‘You’re sleeping naked anyway.’
And just like that he was ready again.
‘I’m not planning on going anywhere,’ he muttered, rolling to his side to lean over her. ‘Except down on you.’
She was forced to look at him then. Her eyes were wide and dozens of emotions flickered through them. He kissed her before she could argue and worked his way down, down, down...
* * *
He woke early in the morning. He blinked at the light streaming in through the windows and saw the clear blue sky. He was cramped and achy all over. In the end he’d slept the night in her stupidly narrow bed. But he’d simply been unable to move—his muscles slammed by total exhaustion.
Now she was snuggled right into his side, her body soft and warm as it encroached on his. Her hair was like a mass of flames across his chest—soft and warming and with a faint fresh scent. He gently lifted a strand to see it glint in the light. His chest tightened and breathing suddenly seemed harder.
He wanted her to wake, yet he also wanted her to rest. He’d woken more than once in the darkness, unused to having someone with him right through the night. But she’d woken too and welcomed him when he’d turned to her, his appetite rapacious again.
Now she opened her eyes with that sense she seemed to have for when he woke. A pair of emeralds glittered at him, filled with accusation. ‘You’re still here.’
‘Yes.’ His throat felt raw and his voice sounded gravelly but, given how long and how harshly he’d groaned during the night, he wasn’t surprised. ‘I’m still here.’
He watched wariness enter her eyes. He tensed in anticipation. Regrets were not allowed. And this wasn’t over yet.
She shifted as if to move away from him but he pressed his palm on her back, holding her in place against him. That tight feeling ventured further south—to familiar territory.
‘Is that how you greet your fiancé good morning?’ He smiled at her and shifted down her body. ‘Maybe I should put you in a better mood, hmm?’
To his pleasure, she parted her legs, letting him in. Always he wanted her to let him this close. He adored doing this to her. Teasing her. Arousing her until she thrashed beneath him and begged for it. He didn’t think he’d ever tire of hearing her excitement build. Of making her moan for him. Of making her hot and fierce. He smiled as he kissed her slick, sweet core. He didn’t take her again, just licked her to orgasm because he imagined she was probably tender today. He’d not been gentle on the stairs. Or when they’d finally made it to the bed. Hell, even he was aching in parts he hadn’t realised he could ache in. He blamed that on the cramped little bed.
‘Oh... Yes!’ The cry was wrenched from her as she clenched her hands on his shoulders, shuddering through another orgasm.
He stifled his groan as his need sharpened. He’d hold back this time. He kissed her gently through the aftershocks, feeling laxness grow within her and seeing sleepiness return to her green eyes. He gently stroked her hair until her eyelids fluttered shut. Then he moved. But at the doorway he turned, unable to resist taking in one long, last look before beginning his day. She was beautiful, enthusiastic and generous, and the most gorgeous challenge. He could hardly wait already.
It was mid-morning before Kitty woke again. She’d slept better than she had in months. She stretched languorously. Oh, hell. There were aches in places too private to be named. So many aches. And the worst?
In her heart.
Never could she regret what had happened yesterday. He had won. Totally. But it had to be done with. She’d finish sifting through all the family stuff and get out of here before she got too enmeshed in an affair that was only going to end painfully for her. Alejandro, for all his arrogance and immunity to emotional depth, was too easy to like.
She took her time in the shower, hoping the hot water would soothe her muscles and over-sensitised skin. But she was half aroused again already, just thinking of him. It was the most rapacious case of lust ever. Who knew sex could be so addictive, so much fun and so intense? That it could be all those things at once was both mind-blowing and terrifying.
She fought for control over her own damn mind—making herself get dressed and head downstairs and get on with work. Once she was underway with the boxes, she was startled by a repeated knocking on the front door.
‘I’m sorry to interrupt you, Miss Parkes-Wilson, but there’s a delivery for the top floor.’ Paolo didn’t look her in the eye as he explained.
She tried to smile but she was mortified. The man had brought condoms when he’d busted them out of that room yesterday! So Kitty looked past him to where a beautifully tailored woman and a couple of brawny delivery men stood in front of a large truck double parked in the street.
‘A delivery?’ She blinked then stepped aside to let them in. ‘Of course.’
Then she saw what it was—a massive, massive bed.
‘For the top floor?’ she questioned, her voice squeaking. This was going in her bedroom?
‘Yes, the attic bedroom,’ the woman said crisply. ‘Mr Martinez requested I dress the bed for him and ensure it’s perfect.’
Did he, now? Unable to answer, Kitty stood aside. It was his house now and she had no authority to argue. She went down to the kitchen and hid. A new, massive bed for her bedroom? The guy had serious nerve.
Almost an hour later she heard Paolo calling for her.
‘All done?’ She stepped out into the hallway, glad when he nodded.
‘You don’t wish to inspect it?’ the woman asked.
‘I’m sure it’s lovely.’ She led them to the front door and opened it. ‘Thanks so much.’
She shut the door on them before her blush became visible to the astronauts on the International Space Station and, with a combination of avid curiosity and outrage, ran back up to her bedroom, freezing on the threshold when she saw it.
He’d replaced her ancient little bed with a monstrosity best suited to a whorehouse, with its four posts perfect for tying dominatrix straps to. Except that was her being overdramatic. It wasn’t tacky
. It was beautiful. Freshly laundered white linen covered the whole thing so it looked like a soft cloud. The thing that annoyed her the most was that it was gorgeous and fitted her room perfectly. And she was turned on just at the sight of it.
She turned on her heel and marched out of the room, determined to get the sorting done even more quickly than she’d planned. The sooner she got away from Alejandro Martinez, the better for her emotional health.
* * *
‘Darling, I’m back.’
Anticipation rippled through her body. Despite his sarcastic call, she heard the rough edge of desire underneath it.
‘What took you so long?’ she taunted, knowing full well he was home earlier than usual. Again.
He walked towards her, his gaze penetrating, that cocky smile curving his arrogant mouth. ‘I take it the bed arrived? Let’s go use it.’ He grabbed her hand and led her to the stairs, carrying a plastic bag in the other. ‘I walked into the store and chose what I wanted.’
Was this the new routine? Now this liaison was exposed as the blistering lust-fest that it was. No dinners out any more—or even in. It was just straight to bed to have sex the second he walked in the door. She ignored her own desire for exactly that—she couldn’t let him have it this easily.
‘It’s too big,’ she grumbled as they got to the top floor.
He sent her a sideways look that told her he wasn’t fooled. ‘I figured we needed a little more space to be creative.’
She was not hot at the thought of that. She wasn’t.
In her bedroom he set another box of condoms on the table. She stared at it, feeling the shifts deep within her treacherous body.
‘I suppose the best thing is I’ll have the space to be able to sleep without having to actually touch you,’ she muttered.
‘Yes, because you hated using me as your pillow last night.’ He stood his ground as he began to unbutton his shirt. ‘Why don’t you come closer and try to tell me again how much you don’t want me?’
She flung her head back, watching as with each flick of his wrist more of his beautiful skin was exposed. ‘What’s in the bag—sex toys?’
Claiming His Convenient Fianc?e Page 12