In the Brazilian's Debt(37)

                ‘Enough,’ he grated out between gritted teeth before she was ready to stop. ‘Or I’ll have nothing left for you.’

                She pulled her head back to stare up at him. ‘Do you seriously expect me to believe that? Maybe we should put that to the test.’

                Chico’s firm mouth curved wickedly. ‘You’re not ready for this.’

                ‘Trust me, I am.’

                Taking hold of her, he turned her beneath him. She sighed with pleasure as he palmed her breasts, massaging them with such sensitivity, she could only whimper out her need for more. Her nipples responded instantly, thrusting insistently against the warmth of his hands. Chico was the master of seduction and the master of delay, and he laughed when she writhed against him, which only made him torture her some more. He was teasing her as she had teased him. She’d brought him to edge and held him there, and now he was doing the same to her. It didn’t matter how much she moved beneath him, writhing and sighing, Chico would only accommodate her needs in his own time, while she was prepared to risk everything for one perfect night.





                                      CHAPTER EIGHT

                HE HAD NEVER felt such a drive to take a woman. Wanting Lizzie was a madness that almost wiped out the past. She felt like heaven beneath his hands, and when he kissed her all his doubts fell away. Those doubts would be back in the form of ‘why hadn’t she answered his letters?’, but for now nothing else mattered more than bringing Lizzie more pleasure than she’d ever known. When she raised her hips for him, and stared into his eyes with the same hunger he felt for her, no other thoughts were possible.

                ‘More?’ he suggested when she cried out with frustration when he made his touch too light, too fleeting.

                ‘Much more,’ she insisted, moving restlessly in the search for more contact and more pressure from his hands. ‘Don’t you dare tease me again,’ she warned him.

                ‘Or...?’ He angled his chin to stare down at her with amusement.

                ‘Or I’ll never forgive you.’

                Her words echoed ominously in his head, reminding him of all that unfinished business. ‘We don’t want to go back to that, do we?’ He forced a smile as he shook the memories off.

                ‘No, we don’t,’ Lizzie agreed, rattling the doubts in his mind with her innocence and good humour.

                Catching her up in his arms, he kissed her again. He had waited a long time for this. Nothing was going to spoil it.

                He would never tire of kissing Lizzie, or tangling his fingers in her copper hair. Bringing her close, he dragged deep on her warm, distinctive scent. She flooded his senses with arousal until nothing else mattered but bringing Lizzie into his dark and sensuous world. He deepened the kiss, mimicking another, more intimate act, and she gasped as he lifted her. Spreading her legs wide, she bound them around his waist, while he supported her with his hands cupping her buttocks. She whimpered and rested her head on his shoulder, but she didn’t remain still for long, and, thrusting towards him, she tried to draw him in.

                He pulled away, which made her wild with want. ‘Now, please now,’ she begged him in a voice hoarse with need. Burying her face in his shoulder, she cried out as he nudged against her and gave her a few tantalising strokes.

                ‘Are you torturing me on purpose?’ she demanded in a shaking voice.

                ‘Maybe,’ he admitted. ‘What if I am?’