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The Spanish Duke's Virgin Bride(51)

By:Chantelle Shaw


‘I should send you away,’ Javier muttered hoarsely. ‘I am not the man for you, querida, but your loveliness would tempt a saint—and I have never professed to piety.’

He twitched back the sheet and Grace caught her breath as she took in the length of his arousal. Her earlier doubts were forming thick and fast, but he took her hand and drew her down onto the bed.

She was shaking—or was it him? she wondered when he lifted her hand to his mouth and grazed his lips over her knuckles. ‘Don’t look at me like that. We’ll take it slowly. The last thing I want to do is hurt you. Do you trust me?’ He tilted her chin so that she was forced to look at him, and the tender passion in his eyes caused her to nod wordlessly.

She gave him a tentative smile and heard his harsh intake of breath before he lowered his head and claimed her mouth with a slow, sensual expertise that left his desire for her in no doubt. The provocative thrust of his tongue between her lips inflamed her senses and she clung to him as he deepened the kiss to a level that was flagrantly erotic.

‘You are so small, so perfect,’ he whispered before trailing a path of kisses along her jaw, and then down to the pulse beating frantically at the base of her throat. He cupped her breast in his palm and stared down at her nipple before taking it into his mouth and feeling it harden to a tight peak beneath the gentle lash of his tongue. When she whimpered, he transferred his attention to its twin, and felt a surge of male satisfaction when she twisted her hips restlessly. He knew what she wanted, his beautiful English rose, and with deliberate intent he pushed her legs apart and trailed his fingers through the tight curls at the apex between her thighs.

She was ready for him, and for a second he almost lost control and plunged into her with primitive force. Instead he drew on his formidable willpower and stroked his finger gently up and down the entrance to her vagina until she parted for him and he slid in deep, focusing on her face as he watched her eyes dilate with pleasure.

‘Javier…please,’ she whispered against his throat, and he smiled, confident that he would give her more pleasure than she had ever known. He might not know much about emotions, but he was a skilled and generous lover. Although where Grace was concerned perhaps not a very patient one, he conceded ruefully, feeling his penis throb unbearably with the urgent need to experience sexual release.

He couldn’t wait much longer. He hadn’t felt as hot and hard as this since he’d been a teenager. He took her lips again and felt the sweetness of her tongue inside his mouth, building the desire that coiled low in his stomach. Stifling a groan, he reached into the bedside drawer and dealt with the protective sheath with swift efficiency born of plenty of practice.

‘Javier…!’ Grace cried out when she felt him ease away from her. Was he going to stop? The idea was unbearable. Her entire body was trembling with the need to feel him inside her, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders to urge him down onto her. She felt him slide his arm under her bottom and lift her hips, and with an instinct as old as time she spread her legs so that the solid ridge of his penis rubbed against her moist opening. Slowly and with infinite care he eased forwards and she felt her muscles stretch to accommodate him.

‘Am I hurting you?’ His voice was rough and low-pitched, and when she stared at him she noted the beads of sweat on his brow. His face was a taut mask, and his amber eyes seemed to burn into her soul.

‘No,’ she lied. ‘Don’t stop.’ It didn’t really hurt, it was just so new and overwhelming, but the last thing she wanted was for him to withdraw from her. She offered him a shy smile and he paused fractionally, and then gave one hard thrust that wrenched a sob from her throat. Almost instantly the discomfort subsided to be replaced with a wondrous sense of fullness, and she wriggled her hips experimentally as she revelled in the delicious sensations he was arousing within her.

‘Forgive me, querida,’ he whispered, resting his brow against hers and smoothing her damp hair back from her face. ‘Do you want me to stop?’

‘No!’ Her reply was instant and unequivocal, but just to make sure she wrapped her legs around his back. ‘Don’t stop; I like it,’ she whispered.

Her smile tore at his heart. ‘You’ll like it a lot more yet,’ he promised as he began to move, slowly at first and with great care until she grew accustomed to the feel of him pulsing inside her. He pushed her hair away from her breast and dipped his head to tease her nipple with his tongue, and then as passion began to build he increased the speed and intensity of each thrust.