One-Click Buy: September 2010 Silhouette Desire

by Brenda Jackson

  “He’s that proud?”

  “He’s a del Castillo,” Rey replied, as if that should be sufficient explanation.

  Rina laughed softly and made to pull her hand away from his thigh, but Rey settled his hand over hers and linked his fingers in her own. Effectively trapping her with his gentle hold. In her heart of hearts, she wished she had the right to be here like this, touching him. Sharing thoughts with one another as genuine couples did.

  She’d seen the closeness between Loren and Alexander. Sure, they were still technically in the honeymoon stage of their marriage, but there was a sense of unity between them that she envied. The love they bore for one another had been evident in a myriad of unspoken moments where their gazes had intercepted or their hands had brushed. It was the kind of relationship Rina had always wished for but been too frightened to trust. With Jacob she’d felt secure. No massive highs, no massive lows. Just stability—pure and simple. Now she knew she wanted so much more than that—was ready to take that risk. Except that risk wasn’t hers to take. Not with Reynard anyway.

  When they reached the cottage he moved swiftly around the vehicle and opened her door, ready to escort her to the front door. His old-fashioned courtesy was something she’d miss when she left Isla Sagrado. It had become all too easy to relinquish the hold she’d so tenaciously made on her life and how she lived it.

  Rina pulled the key from her evening bag and Rey surprised her by taking it from her fingers to open the door for her. He ushered her over the threshold and she bent to remove her shoes, letting them drop just inside, before she moved forward to switch on one of the table lamps near the entryway. The golden glow of the bulb flung an orb of light around them, even as it appeared to cast the rest of the cottage into deeper shadow. A draft of air pulled through the house, and a noise rang out from the bedroom.

  “Wait here,” Rey commanded and flew through the dimly lit sitting room toward where they’d heard the noise.

  Rina waited by the door, wondering if she should start to dial the police. Her heart hammered in her chest. The cottage was isolated. If anyone had decided to break in and Rey hadn’t been here… She’d been burgled once at her townhouse in Christchurch. Discovering that her home had been violated—every personal effect touched and either broken or stolen—had left a very sour taste in her mouth and a sense of vulnerability that even now she fought to control.

  She’d thought Isla Sagrado beyond that kind of thing, especially with the legend attached to the cottage. She’d noticed that few locals wanted to come out this far from the nearest town, especially not after dark. She’d felt safe here, secure. Now, she wasn’t so sure anymore.

  Another sudden thought occurred to her. What if it was Sara who’d made the noise? What if she’d come back earlier than anticipated? The fist around her heart tightened. How on earth would they explain it?

  Relief flooded her as Rey swiftly came back across the room.

  “You left a window open in the bedroom. Some creature must have come inside and knocked the bedside lamp off the stand. It’s gone now. It was probably just a cat from one of the farms. I closed the shutters and lit the candles on the dressing table for you. The lamp is probably beyond economical repair.”

  “A cat? It gave me quite a fright. I’m so glad you were here. I’d have been a mess on my own.”

  Even now, knowing everything was okay, small tremors rocked her body.

  Rey pulled her into his arms. “You’re shaking. Are you all right?”

  She nodded. “I’ll be fine. Just give me a few minutes.”

  “Perhaps you need a distraction, hmm?”

  Before Rina could think, his lips were on hers, slowly, gently coaxing hers open. She felt him push the door closed behind her and fumble the key into the lock before turning it with a click but all she could concentrate on was his solid heat and strength, paired with the incredibly gentle touch of his mouth against hers, of his tongue as it stroked across her lips, dipping and tasting as if she were a morsel to be savored.

  “There,” he said softly against her lips. “You’re quite safe now.”

  Safe? In his arms, with his lips on hers and her heart racing at a pace that no longer had anything to do with fear and everything to do with the man who held her? She ought to push him away, to send him back out into the dark velvet night as far from her as possible. Instead, she slid her arms under his jacket and around his waist and aligned her body against his.

  Rey lifted both hands and cupped her jaw gently, tilting her face to his.

  “Tell me to leave now, before I become incapable of doing so.”

  His voice was thick with desire, his accent stronger than usual. Rina parted her lips to say what she needed to say, to send him out the door and potentially out of her life forever, but the words dried on her tongue even as the heat flaring through her body rose and spread. In her head, she knew it was wrong to be doing this, and yet to the soles of her feet it felt so right. For the first time in her life, she stopped listening to the voice of reason and gave over to her heart.

  With a groan, Rey kissed her again, drawing her lower lip into his mouth and gently scraping his teeth and tongue across the full soft skin.

  “Last chance,” he murmured.

  Thirteen

  And it was her last chance, she realized. Her last chance to give herself over to sensation—to what she wanted right here, right now.

  In answer she dragged his head down to hers and kissed him with every ounce of unrequited love she had in her. Rey didn’t waste another second on talking. Strong arms hooked behind her shoulders and her knees and he swept her off her feet and carried her to the bedroom. Once there, he reverently set her back on her feet, trapping her with the heat and intensity in his gaze as he yanked away his jacket and kicked off his shoes before reaching for her again.

  The shimmer of candlelight reflected from the small mirror perched on top of the tall chest of drawers that passed for a dressing table. Aromatic scents of patchouli and sandalwood blended with the richness of fragrant rose wove their own sensual spell around them.

  Rey traced the outline of her lips with one finger, then trailed the featherlight touch along her jaw and to the hollow at the base of her ear before coasting over her rapidly beating pulse and down her throat. Her heart hammered in her chest, no longer with fear, but with anticipation.

  Rey’s fingers gently brushed her collarbone before coasting, ever so softly, lower until they grazed the swell of her breasts. Every muscle in her body clenched. The hot tide of desire that clouded her mind sent a jolt of need from her core and forced a soft moan of longing from her lips.

  “This gown is very beautiful on you, querida, but I’m sure what it conceals is even more so.”

  He reached around her back for the tab on the zip, and slowly eased it down. The boned fabric of her bodice peeled away from her like a giant petal on a flower, exposing her naked breasts to sight. Her nipples puckered under his gaze, her breasts became full, heavy.

  She stood there proudly as he eased her gown over her hips and allowed it to drop in a dark pool of satin at her feet. Rina stepped out of the discarded gown. All she wore now was the sheer scrap of ruby-colored lace panties.

  “Ah, I knew I was right,” he sighed, his eyes roaming over her form. “You are truly beautiful.”

  He lifted his hands to slide her earrings from her lobes, tossing the glittering chandeliers to the top of the dressing table with scant care as to where they landed, then slowly and painstakingly removed the tiny clips from her hair. Once each tress was freed, he gently ran his fingers through the weight of her hair, letting it spill across her shoulders in a wave of rippling fire.

  Feeling beautiful, feeling incredibly bold in that beauty, Rina reached out and, one by one, slid the buttons loose from his silk shirt. She tugged the tails loose from his trousers before skimming her hands up and over his chest and out to his shoulders, peeling away the finely woven fabric from his body before tugging it down his
arms and pulling it away completely.

  His chest was smooth and tanned, the cords of muscle finely delineated—his nipples now taut discs punctuating his skin. She lightly brushed her fingertips over them, felt the tight nubs harden even further under her touch. How would he taste? How would his skin feel beneath her lips, her tongue?

  She licked her lips, heard his sharply indrawn breath. She looked up and saw the fire in his eyes, felt the answering blaze in her own.

  With her eyes still locked with his, she brushed her hands over his shoulders, relishing the strength of bunched muscle beneath her palms even as she coasted her hands down over his biceps and then his forearms before drifting over his fingers. Mere inches separated their bodies but it was as if a live current of electricity sparked between them.

  She reached for his belt, fumbling a little at the clasp until the leather finally dropped free from its buckle. Her fingers dealt swiftly with his zip, then eased his trousers from his hips. His erection strained against the black cotton of his boxers and she hooked her fingers under the elastic band at his waist. His skin peppered with goose bumps at her touch, another sharply indrawn breath rasped through his lips.

  She carefully eased the fabric from his body, allowing his shaft to spring free from its restriction. Rina backed Rey against the edge of the bed, coaxing him onto its surface, then bent and drew off his trousers and boxers. His socks, too, took only a second to remove.

  She rose to her feet again and gently pushed at Rey’s shoulders, sending him back on the bed. He was totally naked and hers to revere. Flickering candlelight danced across his skin, showing the shadows and clefts of his body, revealing that which jutted proud and obvious from the nest of dark hair at his groin. Feeling an audacity she’d never indulged in before, she straddled his thighs. The heat of his skin against hers was scorching. The fine hair of his legs lightly abraded the backs of her thighs.

  “I want you like I’ve never wanted anyone before,” she said with total honesty.

  The words surprised her even as they fled her mouth. She’d never in her life admitted to her personal needs like this. Beneath her Rey smiled, his hands creeping up to clasp her hips and tilting her forward so her mound rubbed against him.

  “Then take me, I’m all yours. There’s protection in my trouser pocket.”

  “You expected this?” she asked, momentarily disconcerted.

  “Expected it? No. Anticipated? Hoped? Most definitely. I am, after all, a man with needs.”

  Rina smiled in return. “Then we’d better see what we can do about them, hmm? But first, there are one or two things I’d like to indulge in.”

  She leaned over him, her hands braced on either side of him, until her breasts skimmed his chest—her nipples rough against the satin smoothness of his skin. She gasped at the sensations it wreaked in her, and repeated the movement before replacing her skin with the tip of her tongue. He groaned beneath her as she swirled her tongue across one distended disc before repeating the action on the other side.

  His hand raced over her hips and to her shoulders, finally bunching in her hair and holding her as she continued her tracery of his body. Beneath her mouth, his muscles clenched and flexed, giving her other, even more intriguing surfaces to trace. Inch by inch she tasted him, working her way down the ridges of his abdomen and to the impression of his belly button.

  His skin was responsive beneath her tongue, with tiny spasms denoting his most sensitive spots. Spots she committed to memory. When she slid off his thighs and settled between them he lifted his head, dropping his hands from her head to clench the bedcovers beneath him.

  “I warn you, querida, I am not a patient man,” he growled through clenched teeth.

  Rina laughed, a slow bubbling sound that rose through her chest and spilled into the air around them. “Then it’s time you learned,” she teased.

  She reached forward with her hand, her fingers lightly tickling the sensitive skin at the top of his thighs, working her way closer until she cupped his sac gently in her palm. With exquisite care she massaged that so vulnerable part of him and reveled in his trust. Then, she leaned forward and flicked the tip of her tongue against his erection. He twitched beneath her touch and another groan ripped from Rey’s throat.

  His knuckles gleamed white as his fists tightened their hold on the bright colored cotton of the bedcover, his head dropped back as if he could no longer bear to watch and feel at the same time.

  Rina pursed her lips and blew cool air where her tongue had been before repeating the action again, tracing her tongue along the veined flesh, relishing the sensation of tender skin over heated rigid steel. She closed her fingers around his base and firmly glided them to his tip, before taking that smooth head into her mouth and swirling her tongue over him.

  He tasted of salt and musk and male, and in all her life she had never savored anything so intoxicating.

  “No more, you’re killing me here,” Rey said, his voice rough and breathless.

  “You don’t like it?” she asked, before drawing him deeper into her mouth.

  “Too much, I like it too much. I want our first time to be together. Every step of the way.”

  Somehow Rey found the strength to withdraw from the heated cavern of her mouth and to sit up. He grabbed Sarina’s hands and pulled her upright and stood, length for length, skin to skin. The texture of her was enthralling and he ran his hands over her body before coaxing her back onto the bed. He grabbed a condom from the pocket of his trousers and tossed it onto the rumpled covers before lowering himself over her body.

  As her long slender legs parted to allow him to settle between them, he fought with the age-old urge to bury himself in her body—to lay claim to her and coax her body to the heights he knew they’d soon scale together. But strangely this joining between them suddenly meant more to him than he’d realized. He wanted to make love to her—to bring her pleasure and delight, to go further than merely indulging in a sexual act. In this moment, it didn’t matter whether she was Sara or Sarina. All the conflicting feelings and emotions of the past three and a half weeks coalesced into one crystal clear thought—she was his woman, at least for tonight.

  Her hair spilled out around her like a halo of tangled copper. Her slender body spread before him, his for the taking. He forced the ravenous demands of his flesh into submission, wanting to take this slowly—to execute every maneuver with intricate care. He smoothed an errant tendril of hair from her forehead and smiled as she turned her face into the palm of his hand and lightly bit the fleshy mound beneath his thumb.

  “Who’s impatient now?” he murmured, as he lowered his mouth to the pert tip of a breast.

  He drew the peachy pink nub into his mouth and rolled his tongue around its peak before nipping lightly with his teeth. She sighed and shuddered beneath him, forcing him to once again take hold of his senses, to focus on giving her some of the teasing delight she’d afforded him.

  He ran one hand over her thigh, to the top of her hip and then along the delicate curve that led to the inside of her groin. His fingers ruffled the neatly trimmed thatch of dark auburn hair at the centre of her body. Already he could feel the waves of heat coming from her core. His fingers dipped lower and were instantly wet with the evidence of her desire for him.

  He parted her sweet flesh and traced his thumb over her clitoris, feeling her jolt beneath him as if he’d sent a surge of ten thousand volts through her body. He eased a finger into her honeyed depths. She clenched around him—tight, so very tight. It was almost more than he could bear.

  He withdrew his hand, laved her nipple with his tongue once more, then pulled away for only as long as it took to sheath himself. Positioning his shaft at her entrance, he linked his fingers in hers, pulling her arms up and settling their hands on either side of her exquisite face.

  She flexed her hips up toward him, her thighs open, her knees wide.

  “Reynard, please. Don’t make me wait any longer,” she begged.

  H
er gray eyes were dark and stormy, reminding him of the seas that raged below the castillo on a harsh winter night. A fine sheen of perspiration beaded her upper lip, her forehead, her chest.

  “Please?”

  Her voice fractured as he surged inside her, incapable of holding back for another second. Pleasure already began to flood through his extremities as she closed around him, drawing him deep within her, taking him to the ultimate point of intimacy. He withdrew, relishing the tight clutch of her body, and sank within her again and again until he felt her tremble beneath him, heard her cries of pleasure, felt her body tighten and clench about him until she wrought from him a climax that saw exquisite pleasure radiate throughout his body, leaving his frame shaking and shuddering in its aftermath.

  Rina lay in the dark, long after the candles had guttered in their holders, long after she’d felt Rey’s heartbeat resume a normal rhythm and long after he’d drifted into sleep.

  Their lovemaking had been everything she’d ever dreamed of and more. He was a generous lover and after that first cataclysmic joining, they’d made love again. The second time had been slow and gentle, taking their time to understand one another’s bodies in intricate detail, yet with a result equally as shattering as the first.

  Her heart expanded and all but burst on the depth of her love for him, on how right they’d felt together. But she’d been unspeakably wrong in allowing their lovemaking to take place. It had been her decision—he hadn’t pushed or coerced her in any way—and in making that decision she’d betrayed the trust of the one person in the world who’d always been her rock.

  How could she face her sister now, having knowingly slept with her fiancé? How could she face Rey, still pretending to be someone else?

  It wasn’t enough to try and tell herself that Sara wasn’t really in love with Rey. Her twin had been asked to marry him, she’d chosen to say yes. It had been her choice to accept a man who offered her the relative safety of a relationship that demanded little beyond peripheral compatibility—plenty of marriages had been based on less—just as it had been Rina’s choice to settle for the predictability that had been Jacob.