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His Ultimate Prize(62)



'Dios, you feel incredible,' he rasped as sensation piled upon sensation.

Inevitably the bough broke. Ecstasy rode through him, blinding him to  everything else but the glorious satisfaction of unleashed passion.

With her cry of bliss he followed off the peak, the muscles in his body  tightening with the force of his orgasm as he emptied himself into her.

He collapsed on top of her, her soft, sweat-slicked body a cushion to  his hardness. He remained there until their breathing calmed then,  rolling onto the lounger, he tucked her against his side.

As the last of the haze faded away he felt the first inevitable twinge  of regret. He'd succumbed to temptation. Now the piper would expect  payment. And for the first time in his life Marco was afraid at just how  much he was willing to pay.





 CHAPTER NINE

'WHAT-?' SASHA jerked awake.

The solid body curved around hers and the arm imprisoning her kept her  from falling off the lounger. Opening her eyes, she encountered Marco's  accusing gaze.

'You fell asleep.'

The wide expanse of muscled chest scrambled her brain for a few seconds,  before a few synapses fired a thought. She'd had sex with Marco. Wild,  unbelievable, pleasure-filled sex. After which-

'You fell asleep,' he incised a second time, affront stamped all over his face.

'Uh...I'm sorry...'

'I get the feeling you don't mean that.'

'And I get the feeling I'm not following this conversation at all.' Before she could stop it a wide yawn broke through.

His glare darkened.

'Did I not please you?' He seemed genuinely puzzled, and a little  unsure. One hand curved under her nape to tilt her face up to his.

Thoughts of their lovemaking melted her insides. 'Of course you did,'  she said, struggling to keep from blushing at recalling her cries of  pleasure. Lifting her hands, she framed his face. 'I've never felt more  pleasure than I did with you.'

'It was so good you fell asleep straight after?'

'Take it as a compliment. You wore me out.'

His lids veiled his eyes. 'This is a first, I admit.'

'Wearing a woman out?' she asked, stunned.

'Of course not. The falling asleep part.'

Laughter bubbled up from deep within her, delight filling her. Leaning up, she pressed her lips against his in a light kiss.

Marco took over and turned it into a long, deep kiss.

By the time he was done with her she struggled to breathe. And he...he  was fully engorged, his erection a forceful presence against her belly.  Emboldened by the thought that she could arouse him again so quickly,  she caressed her fingers down his side, eliciting a shuddered groan from  him that released a wanton smile from her.

'Like I said, I'm sorry. How can I make it up to you?' She slid her hand  between them and gripped him tight. His lips parted on another groan.  She caressed up and down, marvelling at the tensile strength of him.

His mouth trailed over her face to the juncture between her neck and shoulder. Erotic heat washed through her.

When her grip tightened, his breath shuddered out. 'Sí, mi querida, that's the right way to make it up to me.'

His hips bucked against her hold, heat and strength pulsing through her  fingers. Liquid heat gathered between her thighs. She was unbelievably  turned on by the pleasure she gave him.

At yet another caress he suddenly reared up and flipped her over. 'You're getting carried away.'

She slid her thighs either side of him and lowered herself until her wet  heat touched him. The feel of his strong hands sliding down her back to  capture her bottom made her shiver with delight.

'Then me being on top wasn't the best idea, was it?'

His predatory gaze swept over her, lingering on her breasts, making them peak even more painfully.

'It's time you learned that I can control you from whichever position I'm in,' he breathed.

He surged into her, filling her so completely stars exploded behind her  closed lids. He captured her nape, forced her down and took her mouth in  a scorching kiss. His tongue seeking the deep cavern of her mouth, he  took her over completely, escalating the desire firing through her until  Sasha was aflame with a pleasure so intense it frightened the small  part of her brain that could still function.

Sasha hung on as he clamped one hand in the small of her back to hold  her still. His pace was frantic, frightful in its demand and exquisite  in its delivery of pleasure. She whimpered when he freed her mouth, only  to blindly seek his for herself before she could draw another breath.  Sensation spiralled out of control as bliss gathered with stunning  speed.

'Open your eyes. Let me see your eyes when you come for me.'

She obeyed. Then wished she hadn't when the heat in his eyes threatened to send her already flaming world out of control.

'Marco...'

'Sí, I feel it too.'

She believed him. The sheen of sweat coating his skin, the unsteady hand  that caressed down her face before recapturing her nape, the harsh  pants that escaped his lungs all attested to the fact that he was caught  in this incredible maelstrom too.

Pleasure scythed through her heart, arrowed down into her pelvis,  forcing her to cry out one last time as her orgasm exploded through her.

Beneath her, still controlling their pleasure, Marco thrust into her  release, groaning at the sensation of her caressing convulsions, then  found his own satisfaction.

Their harsh breaths mingled, hearts thundering as the breeze cooled  their sweat-damp skin. Far away, another burst of fireworks lit up the  sky.

Inside the cabana, the intensity of their shared pleasure sparked a threat of fear through her.

To mask her feelings, she hid her face in his shoulder. 'I'd love to compose a sonnet to you right now. But I have no words.'

A short rumble of laughter echoed through his heated chest. 'Sonnets are  overrated. Your screams of pleasure were reward enough.'

Sasha sighed, put her head on his chest and tried to breathe. The alarm  that had taken root in that small part of her brain grew. Something had  happened between their first and second lovemaking.

Then she'd felt safe enough to fall asleep in Marco's arms.

Now... Now she felt exposed. Her emotions felt raw, naked. Unbidden,  tears prickled her eyes. She scrambled to hide her composure but Marco  sensed her feelings.

Pushing her head gently off his shoulder, he stared into her face. 'You're crying. Why?'

How could she explain something she had no understanding of?

When she tried to shrug he shook his head. 'Tell me.'

'I'm just feeling a little overwhelmed. That's all.'

After a second he nodded and brushed a hand down her cheek. 'Sí. This is  your first victory. That feeling can never be equalled.'

For several heartbeats Sasha didn't follow his meaning. When she  realised he was talking about the race, and not the roiling aftermath of  their lovemaking, her heart lurched.                       
       
           



       

Panic escalating, she grasped the lifeline. 'I wish my father had been there.'

Marco nodded. 'He would've been proud of you.'

Surprise widened her eyes. 'You knew my father?'

'Of course. He was the greatest driver never to win a championship. I've  seen every single race of his. Clearly you inherited his talent.'

The unexpected compliment made her feel even more tearful. She tried to  move away but he caught her back easily, lowered his head and kissed his  way along her arm. When she shivered, he shook out a cashmere throw and  pulled it over them, one muscular leg imprisoning both of hers.

She was grateful for the cover-not least because the familiar feeling of  humiliation had returned. 'You know what happened to him, then?'

'He bet on another car to win and deliberately crashed his car.' The  cold conviction in his voice sent an icy shiver down her spine, bleeding  away the warmth she'd felt in his arms.

This time she moved away forcefully. Standing, she grabbed her kaftan  and slid it over her head, even though it did little to cover her  nakedness.

'The allegations were false!'

Marco folded his arms behind his head. 'Not according to the court that found him guilty.'

'He never managed to disprove the claims. But I believed him. He would  never have done that. He loved racing too much to crash deliberately for  money.'

'I was on the board that reviewed the footage, Sasha. The evidence was hard to refute.'

Shock and anger twisted in her gut. 'You were one of those who decided he was guilty?'

He lowered his feet to the floor. 'He didn't do much to defend himself. It took him weeks to even acknowledge the charges.'

'And that makes him automatically guilty? He was devastated! Yes, he  should have responded to the allegations earlier, but the accusations  broke his heart.'

Her voice choked as memories rushed to the fore. Her father broken,  disgraced by the sport he'd devoted his life to. It had taken Sasha  weeks to convince her father to fight to clear his name. And in those  precious weeks his reputation in the eyes of the public had been sullied  beyond repair. By the time Jack Fleming had taken the stand his  integrity had been in tatters.

'So he gave up? And let you carry the weight of his guilt?'

'Of course not!'

'Why did you promise him the championship?'

Sasha floundered, pain and loss ripping through her. 'He started  drinking heavily after the trial. The only time he stopped was when I  had a shot at the Formula Two Championship. When I crashed and had to  stay a while in hospital he started drinking again.'