Suddenly, everything changed. The desire inside her peaked. Her body bowed from the bed, surrendering to a burst of bliss so powerful, she could do nothing but cry out. He lowered his face to her throat, kissing her there, his fingers continuing to play over her as quivers of pleasure licked down her spine.
And then his touch moved lower, slipping through her slick folds to teasingly rub over her. When the tip of one finger dipped inside her, she gasped at the intrusion. His mouth opened over her neck, his tongue tasting her skin.
“Are you still a virgin?” he asked softly.
Her ruination had been nothing more than a series of foolish kisses. “Yes.”
He muttered a Spanish curse into her neck. “I cannot take you now.”
Most gentlemen would have been relieved, she thought. And well-pleased. Her husband seemed disappointed.
“You can,” she argued, for she was chasing more of the pleasure he had introduced her to. “Please, Alessandro. I want you to.”
His finger worked in and out of her in shallow thrusts. The desire that had never fled increased. Her heart was pounding, her body filled with the same languor the brandy had imbued the night before, only better.
He lifted his head, staring down at her with an expression she could not decipher. Her gaze caught on his mouth. How she wished he would kiss her in truth. She wanted to feel his lips against hers. But he did not.
“No,querida,” he denied. “There will be a time for lovemaking later.”
But he had not removed his touch. And her body was still singing with bliss.
“Now,” she said. “The time is now.”
She pushed back the sleeve of his nightshirt to access bare skin. She relished the strength, the way he felt, so strong and masculine. Even the hairs on his skin intrigued her. But she supposed that was hardly surprising. Everything about him did.
“Catriona,” he protested. “We must travel.”
“Not yet.” She lifted her left hand to his jaw, tracing it with her fingertips. The prickle of his whiskers was a delightful surprise. “I want to touch you.”
He inhaled sharply at her confession. “Maldición.”
“Show me how,” she said.
He was not as impenetrable as he liked to pretend.
She affected him every bit as much as he affected her, and the realization filled her with a newfound sense of power.
“This is foolish,” he said, withdrawing his hand at last.
She ached where he had touched her, the stirrings of a fresh rush of pleasure already kindling into more unquenchable flames. “It does not feel foolish to me.”
Indeed, it felt incredible.
He had spent the night in her bed. He had brought her to the pinnacle of pleasure. And he wanted her. The walls he had erected around himself were beginning to lower, but she wanted to tear every last one of them down. She wantedhim.
“It is unwise,” he repeated, staring down at her.
She decided to be bold. She reached for him, and her fingers skimmed over his taut belly. Though he wore a nightshirt, his heat tantalized her through the unwanted barrier.
He hissed out a breath. “Catriona.”
“Alessandro.” She moved lower, seeking the prominent thickness she had felt against her rump earlier.
She was curious, but she also wanted to bring him pleasure as he had done for her. She wanted to make him lose the tight rein he kept upon his control. To undo him. She wanted to consume him.
She found his length and skimmed over it hesitantly.
His hips jerked. She hummed her approval, a bolt of desire piercing her all over again.
