In the Brazilian's Debt(35)

                ‘What is it you want, Lizzie?’ Chico murmured as he lowered her to the ground.

                ‘You,’ she whispered fiercely. ‘I want you.’

                They came together like a force of nature. Their kisses fierce—her fingertips biting cruelly into his shoulders. She wanted him naked. She wanted him naked now. She had to feel him flesh to flesh. Fighting free, she seized the edges of his shirt and ripped it apart.

                Chico laughed as buttons flew everywhere. ‘Wildcat!’

                He answered her assault by shredding her flimsy top, and casting it aside, then he freed the catch on her bra and let that drop too.

                ‘Neatly done,’ she conceded. The fire of battle was on her. ‘But I’m not finished with you yet—’ Grabbing the buckle on his belt, she fell back onto the bed laughing as Chico’s hands found the waistband of her jeans at exactly the same instant. ‘I’m never going to win, am I?’

                ‘Do you want to?’

                He had slowed the pace, opening the top button on the fastening of her jeans, and then lowering the zipper with an infuriating lack of speed.

                ‘Lift your hips for me, Lizzie.’

                She obeyed instantly, and he eased her jeans down. Beneath the thick layer of denim she was wearing flimsy white lace briefs. Tossing her jeans aside, Chico concentrated on the one place that interested him, and, thrusting a thigh between her legs, he opened her more for him.

                ‘Yes,’ she gasped out eagerly, locking eyes to drive him on.

                This only made Chico keep her waiting longer. Would nothing bounce him into action? With a fierce growl, she ground herself hard against the heel of his hand, and before he could stop her she lost control again in a violent release.

                ‘You are the greediest woman I ever met.’

                ‘Do you blame me?’ There could be no holding her back now. This time when their gazes clashed, Chico would see a fire in hers that matched his own.

                Lizzie’s eyes were almost completely black as they stared each other down, but there was no depravity in her gaze as there had been in her mother’s. There was just a woman, seizing what she wanted out of life, a woman who had waited long enough.

                ‘You’re still wearing far too many clothes,’ she complained, laughing as she moved like silk beneath his hands.

                ‘What about you?’

                While Lizzie panted out her frustration in needy little moans, he thought it only fair to help her. Brushing her hair from her brow as she sighed beneath him, he felt some long-lost flame light inside him. Lizzie had always been able to reach him. He had forgotten that. And he had always liked teasing her. That, he remembered. He held her pinned down beneath him with his mouth a breath away from her lips. He stared into her eyes for the sheer pleasure of seeing them darken until there was only the finest rim of jade green left. And then she closed her eyes, waiting for him as she had waited for twelve long years.

                She was quiet for the moment, but he knew she was all fire, hunger, and need. And so small compared to him; he was reminded to be careful. Taking his weight on his forearms so that he only brushed against her, he acknowledged that restraint in this instance was torment for him too. The sound of Lizzie’s quickened breathing had aroused him to an uncomfortable extent. And she was right that he was definitely wearing too many clothes. Sitting back on his haunches, he shrugged off the ruined shirt and tossed it aside.