And suddenly the tempo of his touch changed.
A different kind of pleasure slithered over her skin. Her mouth dried up. Her breath hitched in her throat.
Even his breathing seemed different, shallower, the strokes of his fingers more calculated.
A heat flush was overtaking every inch of her as he pushed her thighs the tiniest inch apart.
His slick hands molded over her thigh muscles. With new tension replacing old knots, she breathed hard. He tugged her panties down. She shuddered and struggled to move.
“Relax, pequena.”
His command was gruff, curt.
She felt the slide of his hot mouth, open and scorching against the base of her spine. She moaned—a guttural sound that filled the cabin.
He scraped his teeth over one buttock. She clenched her thighs, trying to catch the ache there. With his huge palm between her thighs, he didn’t give her that satisfaction.
She whimpered, ready to beg. “Please, Diego...just—”
“No, gatinha. Remember—my rules, my way.”
His words elicited an erotic thrill from her that she had no way to control. Sliding his left hand beneath her tummy, he pulled her up a little, while his right hand steadily but slowly crept toward her sex.
An electric current sizzled along her nerves. She bit her lower lip hard, striving to catch the groan that was tearing out of her.
“Let go of your lip,” he ordered, his voice guttural.
She shook her head in denial, or something like it.
He snuck a finger into her sex. Millions of nerve endings flared to life.
She flinched from the pleasure and then shivered all over, her toes curling into the bed.
Dear God, what was he doing to her?
She was draped over his hand like a rag doll, everything open and visible to him. She had never felt so vulnerable and so out of control. And yet she couldn’t wait for him to do whatever he wanted with her.
His hand reached her curls, delved through her folds. She was aching for his touch, for the pressure that would send her over.
“Droga, but you’re so wet and ready.”
A scream built in her chest and she trembled from head to toe. “Please, Diego...” she whispered on a sob.
Another finger joined the first inside her sheath. She rubbed herself into his touch and heard his groan.
His fingers reached finally and stroked her clitoris. “Come for me, gatinha.”
She opened her mouth and breathed in jerkily. Pleasure built as he moved his fingers faster, inside and out, the heel of his palm rubbing against her with every movement. She closed her eyes, heat gathering momentum in her pelvic muscles, her groans sounding erotic.
Until he pressed down with his thumb and forefinger and set fire to that aching bundle of nerves.
She cried out as she orgasmed violently, white lights exploding behind her eyes, her breath hitching somewhere between the base of her throat and her lungs, her body fraying with the assault of pleasure, her mind utterly soaked with satisfaction.
* * *
The sound of her climax, rasping and throaty, wrenched a tormented answering shudder from Diego. He placed his palm on her lower back as the tremors in her body slowly subsided and then pulled her up to her knees gently. The scent of her arousal was thick in the air he breathed. Her skin was warm to the touch, with a faint sheen of sweat on it. Her locked hands lay in front of her. Her neck was thrown back against his shoulder.
His erection nestled into the curve of her buttocks. He rubbed himself against her and groaned, his shaft aching with need.
She felt so breakable in his rough hands, and the receding shudders in her slender body, her nudity, revealed a fragility that she hid under her perfection.
He pressed an open-mouthed kiss just above the indent of her buttocks and she tautened like an arrow. She tasted of chocolate and sweat. He trailed kisses upward, tasting and licking her, until he reached the graceful curve of her neck.
He opened his mouth and bit the tender flesh there. A moan rumbled out of her. She struggled against the handcuffs.
“Unlock them, Diego.”
Her words were a raw, needy whisper. His stomach muscles tightened into hard rocks.
“I like you like this, minha esposinha,” he said, uncaring that he sounded like the dirty thug he was. He pushed her hair away from her face and licked the seam of her ear.
Her response was a delicious tremble. “You’re still fully dressed.”
He moved his right forearm until his palm lay flat against her belly. She sucked in a sharp breath. He pushed her back onto the bed and joined her, lying on his side. She went without a sound. He laughed.
A delicate pink dusting her cheeks, she tried to cross her arms over her breasts and the triangle of curls that stole his breath.
She glared at him. “What?”
“I really like you all pliant and naked like this. All mine to do whatever I want with.”