She opened her eyes with a helpless moan, dark chocolate pools swimming with desire. And yet there was a shadow of retreat, too.
“No, no, no,” he whispered, putting his free hand on her temple and pressing.
She half smiled, every bit of it reluctant and torn from her. “No, what?”
He tapped her temple with his finger. “No thinking.”
The shadows disappeared from her gaze and her mouth curved into a wide smile. He felt something loosen in his gut.
“No thinking, huh? That’s like asking you...”
He raised his brow, urging her on.
“Like asking you to not be sexy.” She raked her nails over his abdomen and he sighed with pleasure. “Although if you are naked like this I can’t actually think.”
He laughed. He really liked her like this. And not just because she was naked and sexy and it drove him crazy with desire. But because an inherent part of her—a side of her he rarely if ever saw—was exposed to him when they made love.
This intimacy, he realized slowly, was something she guarded closely—as she did all her feelings. It was something she had shared only with him. Primal satisfaction beat through him at the realization.
“Then we will be naked all the time. I mean, if that’s what it takes to have a happy marriage I’m up for it.”
She laughed, and the rich sound surrounded him.
He moved his hands toward her breasts and cupped them. “You were right. All this sophistication—it’s just on the outside. Beneath it I’m an old-fashioned, chauvinistic man.”
“Yeah?” she said, challenge glinting in her gaze. But her gaze dropped as he flicked a hard nipple with his fingers, her breathing becoming sharp.
“Yeah. I would like my wife to not think too much—even if she is one of the most brilliant women I have ever met. I would like to protect my wife from the big, bad world—even though she’s the strongest woman I have ever met. I would like to be the only man—or the only equipment,” he amended quickly, and she laughed, “that is allowed to touch her. I would like to be the only one who can—”
“Tie her up in knots? Make her forget right or wrong? Turn her world upside down and generally plunge her life into chaos?”
His heart pounded so hard in his chest that he wondered if it would burst out of him.
“You already do all that and more to me, Diego.”
Before he could pull in his next breath she pushed him onto his back and straddled him. With sure movements she wrapped his fingers around him and guided him inside her wetness as though she had blurted out too much...as though she didn’t want him to linger over her words.
Once she started to move over him, her high breasts moving softly with her movements, her eyes drooping to half-mast with need, he forgot everything but the lust driving him to the edge.
He thrust upward in rhythm with her movements, he pulled himself up as her tempo increased. He pulled her nipple into his mouth and tugged at it with his teeth.
And she exploded around him, her muscles contracting and pulling at him. He thrust one more time into her and hit his own orgasm. He jerked his hips into her for every inch of pleasure she could give him, but something else was fueling the pleasure breaking out all over him.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
SITTING ON THE terrace overlooking the Brazilian coast, Kim ran her hands over her bare arms. The evening sky glittered with stars and the breeze carried a hint of the exotic flowers that were native to the island, which was an ecological paradise.
The past ten days she had spent here had flown by in a whirl, and they had been the best days of her life.
She saw Diego most days, except when he made trips to Rio di Janeiro. He made a lot of those—even though he was often back before she’d realized he was gone.
He didn’t inform her about his schedule and she was still too new at this...whatever this was—to ask him to share. But the time they did spend together was becoming more and more precious to her.
Two days into their stay she had taken a trip around the island with Miguel, who had joined them a day after they arrived. She had met four young men, ranging from Miguel’s eighteen-year-old best friend to a hulking brute of a boy whose age was indeterminate. And that was when she’d realized the truth.
Diego was doing everything he possibly could to get as many kids out of the street gang he himself had been a part of and bring them here. He was giving them honest work to do, showing them a different way of life. Some came willingly in search of a something better, and some, like Miguel, who had seen too much violence already, didn’t believe a better world existed.
She had thought Diego obsessed with wealth, determined to take everything he thought the world had denied him. She couldn’t have been more wrong. She’d felt an insane urge to shout to the world what an honorable man he was, how wrong the media’s perception of him was. So she had started a project with Miguel’s help, excited to be doing something for Diego.