The Purest of Diamonds(54)

                ‘So that isn’t a flat no?’ he said, curbing a smile. ‘You have an urge. I have an urge. Let’s do something about it.’

                ‘How do you know I have got an urge?’

                ‘Your eyes are darkening... Your lips are swelling... Your nipples are—’

                ‘Stop,’ she said, sucking in a fast breath. ‘You are so bad.’

                ‘Would you have me any other way?’ As he angled his chin he saw the answer in her eyes. Reaching across, he very gently stroked the swell of her belly and a sigh escaped her.

                ‘You’re a very bad man, Raffa Leon.’

                ‘I make you angry?’

                ‘Yes, you do.’

                ‘Then please allow me to soothe you,’ he suggested, tipping his sunglasses down his nose. Drawing her into his arms, he lazily brushed her lips with his.

                She was only wearing a tiny thong beneath the dress. No bra. She didn’t need one. Her breasts were glorious, firm and full, while her nipples were engorged and pressing urgently against the fine, summer-weight fabric, in serious danger of being chafed unless he freed them.

                ‘What are you doing?’ she demanded in a husky whisper.

                ‘Feeding,’ he growled, laving her nipples with his tongue. ‘Hmm. You taste different.’

                ‘Soapy?’ she suggested.

                ‘No. Womanly and—’

                ‘Pregnant?’

                ‘Maybe.’ He gave a crooked smile as he gazed up into Leila’s eyes.

                ‘No maybe about it,’ she said, breaking off to gasp when his hand stroked her thigh.

                ‘Nice?’ he asked, trailing his fingertips over her.

                Leila’s answer was to arc towards him, making herself more available. ‘Not sure I can bear being teased,’ she warned him. ‘Being pregnant seems to have made me...’

                ‘Mad for sex.’

                ‘How do you know?’

                ‘I know everything about you, Leila Skavanga. And it’s been far too long.’

                Removing her thong, he slipped down from his seat and went to kneel in the well of the car. ‘Rest your legs on my shoulders and your feet on the dashboard.’

                ‘Really?’ she said, glancing around.

                ‘Really,’ he confirmed.

                ‘How do I explain this if a tractor drives past?’ she managed between hectic breaths.

                ‘Just say you’ve got a cramp and I’m doing the best I can to distract you—’

                ‘In Spanish?’

                He grinned as he freed himself with one hand and positioned her with the other.

                ‘Don’t stop,’ she begged him when he got busy with his tongue. ‘Don’t you dare stop... Oh, this is so good...’