The Spanish Billionaire's Hired Bride

by Rachel Lyndhurst

  Her tone was deceptively calm. “Yes.” She could now see that he was naked, and her hand shook as she untied the belt of her robe. The fine material slithered to the floor as she walked towards him. “Would you like me to leave?”

  He turned to face her in the shadows, moonlight glimmering on the smooth angles of his shoulders. “What do you want, Helen?”

  Could he see where she was looking? He was perfect. He was huge. Her reply was hoarse as she laid the palm of her hand on his chest. “I want my husband.” She trailed her fingertips down over his stomach and felt his hands grip her bare shoulders as she dropped to her knees in front of him.

  “You don’t have to—”

  “I said I wanted my husband,” she whispered and cautiously stroked the length of him with her fingertips in the darkness. “Let me.”

  He groaned as she took him into the soft heat of her mouth and savored the way he felt. Ridged hot velvet over steel, but too much to take him all the way in. Her lips slowly slid back and forth, dragging his foreskin with a teasing motion that made his thigh muscles twitch. It thrilled her to feel him beginning to lose control under her touch. It gave her power over him.

  His large hands cupped both her breasts before slowly running his thumb pads over her tight nipples. His breathing was becoming heavier. “You witch.”

  “Whore,” she whispered and pushed his length between her breasts. Saying the word excited her. It liberated her. She was living a lie and could be anyone now. She was enjoying this game, and the way his penis strained between them told her he was ready to play too. “You paid for me, remember?” She rolled the tip of her tongue over the head of his erection, dipping into the tender slit at the end, and gripped him gently between the legs to provoke him beyond endurance.

  Ignoring her small cry of surprise, he swung her up from the floor and dropped her heavily down onto the bed. His knee was between her legs and easing her thighs apart before she could catch her breath. “You want your husband to make love to you? Is that what you’re trying to make me do?” His mouth crushed her response, but she lifted her legs and rubbed her damp sex against him so there could be no mistake as to what she wanted.

  He pulled his mouth away from hers and trailed his tongue down her throat, between her breasts, and then around the areole of her nipple. “I want you to have me any way you like,” she muttered and pushed his mouth down and around the stiff peak of her breast. “But hard. And soon.”

  She gasped as his forefinger found her entrance, slicked her clitoris with her own juices and then slid inside. A second finger followed, slid, flicked and pushed her apart until she felt a third join them. His voice was unsteady as his thumb applied pressure to the sensitive rise of her mound and began to move in slow circles. “You like?”

  “I like.” She moaned and reached down between them to grasp his erection. It was huge and hot, his foreskin fully drawn back in anticipation, its wide head swollen and ready. She arched her hips towards it and moaned. “I want …”

  “Then we’ll do this the old-fashioned way.” He leaned across her to open the drawer of the bedside cabinet. The weight of his chest crushing her breasts was intoxicating. “You underneath me like a good little wife.”

  “Yes,” she hissed and bit lightly into his shoulder. “Quickly.”

  “Just a second,” he murmured, snatching out a condom. “I need to take care of you.”

  “No need. I’m still protected by the pill I took this morning before the doctor told me to stop, so it’s okay.” She took the condom from his fingers and threw it on the carpet before spreading her legs wide and sliding the tip of her tongue between his lips. “And I don’t feel sick any more. Come on, just this once, our wedding night…”

  She felt her heart pounding wildly as he hesitated and pulled away until he was kneeling between her thighs. His eyes flickered over her naked body as she began to touch herself. His chest rose and fell as he watched. “You’re sure?”

  “It’s safe,” Helen persisted, licking her lips and rubbing the side of her foot up his thigh. “Now come on… ”

  “Okay, you win.” Ricardo pushed her legs even wider with his hands. “Let me taste you first.”

  His mouth was hot and hard as she felt the stubble on his jaw rasp against the soft skin of her inner thighs. She closed her eyes and heard herself pant as his tongue parted her delicate folds, tasted, plunged, twisted and then withdrew to tease the inflamed nerve endings of her clitoris. She fisted her fingers into the black silk of his hair. “Stop, or I’ll come,” she said and pulled his head up. His shoulders followed and he put his hands on either side of her head as he kissed her, his tongue and lips still spiced with the flavor of her.

  “Come on me instead,” he muttered and she felt the wide tip of him nudge against her entrance. He eased himself in an inch and she felt his body tremble. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You won’t.” Her voice dropped an octave and she grasped his buttocks, her nails digging into the firm muscles. “Feel how wet you’ve made me, how much I want you.”

  He swore softly in Spanish and slid into her with one long thrust that made them both cry out with shock and pleasure. They were still for a moment, hearts pounding against each other. “Dios, are you sure about this?”

  Her tone was desperate as she wrapped her legs around his hips and pushed her pubic bone into him hard. She clenched the muscles of her vagina around his penis until she felt him flex deep inside her. There was no way she could let him stop now. “Yes, damn you.”

  Ricardo entwined the fingers of both hands with hers and pushed them into the soft silk of the pillows as he began to slowly move inside her. His eyes bored down on her as her hips rose and fell to meet his. “You are a witch …”

  “I’m anything you want me to be.” She threw back her head and gasped as he thrust deeply into her, his length and girth taking her to a threshold of pain and pleasure she had never experienced before. “You make me want to—”

  He untangled their fingers and slid his hands underneath her bottom to penetrate even deeper. His movements became faster as he gently pulled the cheeks apart and she wriggled with pleasure. “I make you want to what?”

  “You make me want to…” Her body tensed like an iron spring as the force of his lovemaking pushed her deep into the mattress, his penis stretched and pulled her inside and out, igniting a million electrical nerve endings until there were no rules any more. “…scream.” She felt herself splinter beneath him, gasping out his name, clawing at his skin as a lightning fast sensation hurled her into a rapid dark spiral of orgasm. Wave upon wave of convulsions shook her as he began to tumble after her, held tight in the darkness of her body, sliding, pulling and gripping her with intense force until she felt the violent heat of his release spread deep within her.

  She clung to him in the afterglow, mind and body buzzing with adrenaline, hormones and emotions she couldn’t even begin to fathom. The weight of his body made it difficult to breathe, but she didn’t want the erotic imprisonment to end. “Dear God,” she murmured against the soft skin of his chest.

  “It will be slower next time,” he said with a laugh and went to roll off her. “You forced me to come that quickly.”

  “No stay a moment.” She squeezed him with her inner muscles. “I still want to feel you inside me.”

  He propped himself up on his shoulders to look at her. “You enjoyed it in the end then?”

  Helen grinned. “It was worth the wait. I think I’m addicted.”

  “What made you change your mind? You didn’t want complications a few hours ago.”

  She felt him stiffening once more inside her. “My wedding gift to you, Ricardo,” she whispered and closed her eyes to the sensation of him pushing against her womb again. “Christ, you’re good …”

  “I can be better, slower.” He nipped at her throat as she gasped with each firm stroke between her legs. “We’re going to do this a lot, Mrs. Almanza. I’m going to make you come a
ll over again.” She cried out as he lifted her hips up from the mattress with his wide hands, impaling her deeply. “Lots of times.” His pace quickened until all she could do was pant with wide-eyed pleasure. “Until you beg me to stop.”

  .

  The sound of raised voices and rapid chatter outside on deck eventually woke Helen from a deep sleep.

  Ricardo’s voice was low and gruff as he pulled her closer against his chest under his arm. “That’s the crew bringing us into dock. Don’t worry. They won’t disturb us until we’re ready.”

  She yawned. “They must think we’re spoiled, lazy wastrels just lying here while they flog. We should get up.”

  He slapped her bottom under the sheets. “It’s our honeymoon for pity’s sake. What do you think they’ll be expecting us to do? Play Scrabble?”

  She slapped him back. “I hadn’t thought about that, smart ass.”

  And hadn’t realized that we were behaving like a real pair of besotted newlyweds.

  There was a loud clatter outside the door.

  “Dio! The bloody cleaners already!” Ricardo heaved a resigned sigh with his massive shoulders. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to find it hard to concentrate properly on your exquisite little body with that racket going on.”

  Helen giggled at his irritation and pulled the sheet over her chest. “I think it’s time to give in and show our faces, don’t you?”

  “I suppose so.” He grunted, snatching up a conveniently placed robe. “But I’m not happy.”

  “But your staff will be when they actually see you. Everyone seems to adore you, Almanza, it’s not just me…”

  Ricardo looked at her quizzically for a moment and let out a small laugh. “Enough joking about, Helen. It’s time you made me breakfast. I’ve had enough of fancy restaurants and takeaway junk food.”

  “Bloody chauvinist! In that case, there’s something you really need to know.”

  “Go on.”

  “I’m a failure as a society wife.” Helen clasped her hands together and grinned. “I can’t cook, not in a socially acceptable way anyway. Sorry.”

  “I know.” He chuckled as he decided against the robe, threw it on the floor, and reached for his discarded trousers.

  “You do?”

  “I’ve seen the state of your pantry in that hole in Ibiza, remember?”

  “You’ve also been to dinner at my mum’s. We have a lot in common, her and me.”

  Ricardo grinned and leaned over the bed to give her a kiss. “Your mum is lovely, and besides, there’s more to life than food.”

  “Can any self respecting man say that?” Helen joked.

  “He can when there’s always a professional chef around, but hey, I did say your talents lay elsewhere. I don’t want you getting all hot and bothered in the kitchen when you could be doing that in bed with me. And I can make coffee at least. We’ll survive.”

  “You must buy pastries in that case.”

  “Guts.” He threw her silk gown at her. “I’ll shower later at the villa. Will you join me?”

  “Am I safe?”

  “No.”

  “Okay, it’s a date.”

  “Come on then, let’s get on shore.”

  They passed a couple of young women carrying baskets of fresh linen along the promenade deck. Large brown almond-shaped eyes, respectful yet adoring, gazed at their boss as he greeted them both by name. Helen heard their excited whispers as they scuttled away—they’d laid eyes on the new Senora Almanza!

  The morning sun was dazzling, and the arc of gold and deep, deep blue that refused to be ignored took Helen’s breath away. The bay was exquisite, rippling like molten glass, blue, green, and gold beneath the fading dawn sky. “Oh my God,” she whispered.

  “Approve?”

  “And the rest! It’s like something out of a top end holiday brochure, airbrushed with a top coat of glitter.”

  “Bueno.”

  “Gorgeous…”

  “There are no designer shops, I’m afraid.”

  “Good.”

  “No British booze, either.”

  Helen paused for thought and then shot him a playful look. “I’ll live.”

  “Very patchy Internet and mobile phone reception.”

  “Oh do stop it and hurry up!” She slapped him on the shoulder with her sun hat. “You promised me a shower.”

  Chapter Eight

  A speedboat took them to an old wooden quay. The bay was far too shallow for a yacht the size of Indalo to get near to shore. Helen arrived breathless and more tangle-headed than she’d previously been, and the short bumpy sprint to shore left her exhilarated. She shouldn’t have been as overawed by this level of luxury but she was. High cliffs smothered in trees surrounded the bay, but as she craned her neck towards the clouds she could see a rooftop peeking through the foliage, a few tantalizing tiles and a round white curve of stone.

  “There’s a house,” she said and pointed as he took her hand to help her out of the boat.

  “That’s the observatory.”

  “Observatory?”

  “Yes, built by an astronomer forced to retire to sunnier climates by a very bossy wife.”

  “Fascinating!”

  Ricardo chuckled and gestured towards an open-topped Jeep attended by a slight man wearing dark glasses and Bermuda shorts. “Come on, we can walk it, but it’ll be a lot quicker if I drive.”

  “You’re the boss.”

  Ricardo took the keys from the man who nodded and left without saying a word. “You mean that?”

  “Of course not.” She laughed. “But let’s get a move on, shall we?”

  “Welcome to Dizzy Heights,” Ricardo said after driving at top speed up a steep winding road through dense pine trees that were now clearing to reveal a high-gated entrance.

  Helen blinked. She saw the bright blue of a sky that could only have its feet in the sea. The light was infused with ozone and Mediterranean sparkle. She breathed in deeply as her brain registered all the color—sand and honey-colored stones on one side, smooth whitewashed walls on the other, purple bougainvillea, deep green myrtle and scarlet hibiscus.

  “This is the upper entrance,” Ricardo said as he brought the Jeep to a halt. “The lower one is for deliveries and staff use.”

  “A staff entrance?” she asked incredulously.

  “I suppose that’s what it is.” He switched off the engine.

  “Dear God, this place is huge. Another of your investment new-builds?”

  “Oh no, not this one. This is home, in a special green zone. It’s safe from new development forever.”

  “A touch ironic considering all your other properties.”

  “Yes, you could say hypocritical too if you like, and I’ll understand.”

  “Would you?”

  “You don’t think I’m not lashed by criticism on a daily basis do you? I am. People hate me for what I do.”

  “For what you do?”

  “Think about it. I’m a banker and a builder. I buy up land with my financial profits, build houses, and then lend people the money to buy them off me. It upsets people, even rich ones, especially the ones with lots and lots of land right next door.”

  “And it doesn’t bother you?”

  Ricardo shrugged. “I don’t let it. It’s business and I have no desire to be poor.” He held out a hand to help Helen out of the car. “But enough of this serious talk, we’re supposed to be enjoying ourselves.”

  The smell of wood smoke drifted towards them, and Helen noticed a blue wisp coming from a chimney towards one end of the house. “Looks like we have company already,” she said brightly, trying to hide her disappointment.

  “Lucia, my housekeeper will be making us bread and preparing a selection of meals for us should we require them later.” He ignored her gasp of surprise as he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her tightly into him as they walked. “She’ll be gone in under an hour, don’t worry.”

  “I wasn’t worried.”

 
; “And none of the staff will return to the main house until I tell them to. I value my privacy, that’s why I bought such a huge estate. Plenty of room for everyone. Peace and quiet.”

  “It sounds wonderful.”

  “We’ll find Lucia in the kitchen.” Ricardo guided her down a flight of steep steps down the side of the villa towards an open doorway. “Right through here.”

  A portly, middle-aged woman with salt and pepper hair neatly arranged in a bun was working furiously at a huge ball of dough on a long wooden table. She looked up with a start as Ricardo surprised her from behind with a bear hug that crushed her wrinkled cheeks into his shoulder.

  “Great to see you, Lucia.” He outstretched an arm to beckon Helen closer. “And this, my dear old friend, is my new wife, Helen.”

  The older woman looked her up and down and nodded. “So it’s true, the rumors. You finally got married. Not to one of those orange-skinned stick insects, thank God.”

  “Isn’t she beautiful?”

  “Helen, you say?” Lucia turned to look Ricardo in the eye with a frown on her lips. “Quite a name. It means a shining light as I recall.”

  Helen felt her cheeks flush. She flashed a smile she hoped the other woman would mirror. Lucia did not oblige and Ricardo continued to grin regardless of the insult. “Pleased to meet you, Lucia.”

  “She certainly is!” Ricardo said interrupting. “Cooking isn’t one of her talents apparently.”

  Lucia harrumphed and wriggled free from under Ricardo’s shoulder and started to pound the large ball of dough again. She punched it hard, sending a puff of flour into the air. “We can only hope she is good at other things then can’t we, muchacho?”

  Ricardo laughed.“You know me too well.”

  Lucia shot him a sideways glance that had the beginnings of a wry smile, but completely ignored Helen. “Get out of my kitchen and go play like a good boy,” she grumbled. “Let me know when you want dinner.”

  “I’m really not at all hungry.” Helen crossed her arms across her chest. For the first time in her life she wished she was a bloody cordon bleu cook just to put this woman’s superior old nose out of joint. She glared at Ricardo hard until her eyeballs hurt.