Masquerade (38 page)

She gasped and stiffened, her eyes glazing over as he found the silky dark triangle of her Mount of Venus. She felt him stop and
trembled violently with the urgency of her need, her thighs parting imperceptibly in anticipation. His eyes were still watching her as he slid his fingers down, gently stroking. She licked her dry lips with the tip of her tongue. He found her other lips with his expert fingers and fondled the silky warm damp folds of her femininity. She ached for him to touch the little swollen bud buried deep in the secret part of her, but he left it behind. As she cried out his name, desperately trying to guide him where she wanted him most, he stilled his hand, tormenting her with agonizing pleasure.

Now he claimed her mouth, plundering it as he sought her tongue with his, then probing deeper and deeper, kindling her flame into a roaring fire. His kisses remained hot as his lips found her breasts and devoured them with his mouth. This time there was no holding back as he nipped, licked and suckled the firm mounds that had surged at his touch and their tight, quivering pink peaks. She was desperately aroused and her sinuous body moved gracefully as she moaned her pleasure. As he grew harder, his deep breath was audible as he slowed himself down, obviously fearing to lose control. His head dipped further. The curve of his lips lingered on her navel; he knew just how much pressure to use as he stroked and licked in slow, sensuous moves, causing every nerve in her body to vibrate, passion grasping her in its relentless fold.

He turned his attention to the secret part of her waiting for him, moist, swollen and throbbing with desire. She cried out when he gently peeled away the silky-smooth petals protecting her mystery. He took the fevered rosy bud in his mouth, sucking, teasing with the tip of his tongue, stroking slowly at first, then faster and faster, harder and harder, stimulated by her cries of encouragement. She never wanted this delicious torment to end. Each moan, each cry she let out seemed to illicit a growl of pleasure from him as she opened up and yielded still further under his touch. She knew she was intensifying his need and felt the almost primitive erotic fire burning them both. Her blood was thundering now; every limb, every nerve, every inch of flesh of her taut body crying out for release. Whimpering, pleading, she was almost sobbing her need for him to fill the void inside her.

His gaze never leaving her, he finally eased himself back up and claimed her open lips with all the tenderness of his love. Lifting her slightly, he cupped the cheeks of her bottom to draw her closer. Instinctively she parted her thighs to receive him. He eased himself into her using his fingers first to make sure he did not hurt her. Holding her hips, he began thrusting into her soft, silken moisture, firmly and deeply, as her muscles tightened avidly around him, gripping and caressing him.

Now they were moving rhythmically together, luxuriating in each other’s pleasure. Tongues of fire lashed at them. The swirling kaleidoscope of sensations that rushed through them was more than they could bear. Her nails dug into his shoulder as she moaned his name again and again, telling him how she loved him and how he was pleasing her. Her frenzy was driving him deeper into ecstasy, his hunger for her naked and unconcealed, blazing like a roaring fire.

Their passion had escalated to a raging ache that was begging to be released. As he gradually gave up control, his kisses became wilder, his embrace ever tighter, melding their bodies into one. He thrust deeper and deeper into the moist core of her, gradually increasing the tempo. Breast to chest, thigh to thigh, they were rocking to each other’s hungry cries, savouring every shade, every tone of pleasure, until this crescendo broke into an almighty storm of lightning, the sensual waves engulfing them both and exploding in final release, dragging them, united, deep into the ocean of ecstatic bliss.

Their climax was long and powerful. When they finally surfaced into this world, they smiled against each other’s lips, hearts still beating frantically in unison. As he lay on top of her, Andrés smoothed Luz’s hair back and kissed her forehead. He grinned.

‘Dime querida,’
he whispered tenderly, his eyes intent on hers, ‘do you still think I’m a womanizer?’

She gave a happy little chuckle.
‘No, usted es el hombre que amo,
you are the man I love.’

He stared at her, his eyes clouding with intensity before his lips brushed the tip of her nose and he rolled off her. Spent and satiated, they drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms.

L
uz returned to L’Estrella before dawn. It was one thing to get back in the small hours and quite another to stay out all night. After tucking into the scented juicy flesh of a large white peach and making herself a cup of thick hot chocolate, she showered and was still floating on cloud nine when she went to bed.

Lying awake, she marvelled at the way her feelings for Andrés had made a complete U-turn in the past two days. She knew she had fallen in love with him yet how could she transfer her passion so easily from one man to another? She had never been promiscuous. How could this be happening? Tonight it was Andrés, not Leandro who had captivated her body so entirely and made her emotions soar to new heights. Her newfound recklessness would surely end in tears. A warning voice whispered inside her head:
had she not learnt her lesson with the gypsy?

Still, there was no escaping the force that pulled her and Andrés together like magnets, compelling, powerful and irrepressible. Leaving aside his evident skills in lovemaking, in the past two days they had spent together he had given her a glimpse of the man behind the arrogant mask: the overwhelming male self-confidence she had so despised when they first met had fallen away to reveal thoughtful complexity, his haughty impudence replaced by irresistible mischievousness. Time had evaporated while they were together.

Yet Luz had a nagging feeling that he was holding back something and that made her uncomfortable. At times he was moody and secretive and, in those moments, those silences, she felt completely
isolated from him. She could not follow the strange currents of his mind that took him away into his own world, of which she was not part. It unsettled her that he never allowed her to probe further than a certain point in his life. Even when she was able to push a little further in the hope of catching him off-guard, she always came up with a blank.

From time to time she had noticed a harrowed look in his eyes, which pulled at her heartstrings. Was it sadness or fear? Doubtless he had lied about Eduardo’s paintings of
La Pouliche
– but why? She had the heady sense that she had stumbled on to something vital and was determined to find out more about those paintings and their mysterious model.

Eventually, she drifted off into a dreamless sleep and was awakened a few hours later by the chorus of birdsong. The sunbeams entering her room summoned her to enjoy the freshness of the hour.

It was a fine and glowing day. She went on to the flower-filled veranda outside her bedroom, where she sat in her rocking chair, looking out to sea. The light was white far into the distance, where Puerto de Santa María still lay sleeping in the morning haze, abutting on the exquisite emerald of the ocean. She listened to the buzzing of cicadas in the branches of nearby trees, the chirruping crickets and the soft murmur of the sea in the distance. It filled her with a sort of intoxication, which made her feel drowsy again. The garden at this hour was streaked with broad lakes of shade; the colours were beautiful. Nature was moist with dew, glittering with a strange luminosity. Apart from the humming stir of insects it was a benign and tranquil sort of morning, though the telltale haze announced a hot day. She could hear the clicking of a watermill in the distance. Butterflies hovered around her, busy sipping honey from the flowers; lizards crawled over the ballustrade or lay very still on the walls, basking in the sun.

She watched a hawk swoop not so far away into the bay, which lay blue and silky under the burnished sky. And there, out of sight, somewhere behind the cliffs on her right, slept the lonely little beach that had witnessed her night of love. Strange how it had also been on
a beach that she had given herself to Leandro. But she didn’t want to think about Leandro now; it made her feel uncomfortable. It was almost as though the twins were competing with each other and she found the ambiguity of her situation unnerving. Of course she had no proof they were twins – the idea was so far-fetched, even absurd. Most probably they were unaware of each other’s existence. One certainty remained in her mind, though: no man had awakened her senses in the way they had and she was sure she would never again encounter such compatibility with anyone.

The discovery of this sensuous, rather wanton facet to her personality frightened her; she deeply resented being so uninhibited. She still blushed at the thought of how she had revelled in Andrés’ intimate caresses and how quickly she had surrendered to him, unable to control herself. Years of self-discipline simply disintegrated into thin air. Like a flower to which he had shown the sun, she had bloomed but it somewhat went against the grain: the English part of her shrank from that sort of exhibitionism, finding it distasteful.

Thinking of Andrés flooded her body with a languid longing. She would be meeting him later on, down at the beach. They were going snorkelling.

‘I will take you places you’ve never dreamed of,’ he had told her with a wicked twinkle in his eyes and that suggestive intonation in his voice she was beginning to recognize. Only too aware of his skills of initiation, she tried to suppress the rush of euphoria that invaded her as graphic images of the ‘places’ to which he was proposing to introduce her clamoured in her mind. She was looking forward to a long, leisurely day of exploring.

And so she showered quickly, dressed in a pair of figure-hugging shorts and went down to the kitchen. She was relieved it was market day; she wouldn’t have to bump into Carmela and be confronted with her endless questions. After ransacking the housekeeper’s larder to pack up a picnic, she set off.

The haze was dispersing; the sun was up and hot. The ocean, intense blue skies, the clean-swept Atlantic light and salty air, the
rambling beach and Andrés were all waiting for her. She noticed him as soon as she had traipsed over one of the high dunes: a somewhat lonely figure silhouetted against the vast immensity. He had brought his boat ashore and was sitting on the side of it, arms folded against his muscled bronze chest, watching her approach. As Luz moved towards him, he never took his eyes off her and she, in turn, was transfixed at the sight of him, bare-footed in his sailing shorts, his naked torso like that of some god in mortal form. An unbearable yearning for him coursed through her. So this is what real desire felt like. She hailed him and he waved back.

Luz had barely reached him when he was beside her, encircling her waist and scooping her up in his athletic arms. He twirled with her once, twice, holding her in a close embrace. Caught off-guard, she let go of her bag and her hands went up to his bare shoulders. His skin felt hot beneath her cool palms and Luz caught his slight intake of breath and the tensing of muscles as she touched him. He wore sunglasses so she could scarcely make out his eyes behind the dark screens but she knew from the tautness of his body that they were wild with desire. He lowered her to the sand, dragging her down slowly so she brushed against the length of his frame, feeling his unmistakable arousal against the apex of her thighs. Andrés stilled, obviously trying to control the same violent need that Luz already felt engulfing her.

‘I think we ought to go, don’t you?’ he whispered. ‘The boat is ready. We’re lucky, we have perfect conditions today.’

The impatience in his voice was evident, she noted with satisfaction: he had missed her.

The wind was blowing onshore, which would make it tricky to sail away from the beach, she realized, but Andrés worked quickly. He had already placed their belongings in the dinghy and the mainsail was ready to hoist as soon as they were aboard. Luz helped him drag the dinghy out into the water and, once it was floating clear of the breaking waves, they scrambled aboard and headed out of the cove, the sail canvas beating heavily through the roar of the wind.

They were sailing parallel to the beautiful coastline now, away from Cádiz, heading south. Luz had never come this way before. The landscape was quite different, the shore backed by pinewoods often spliced by great, blond sweeps of beach, and the skyline ringed by cloud-dappled mountains.

From time to time Andrés withdrew his gaze from the horizon and turned towards Luz. Though she could not see the expression in his eyes, she knew he was studying her. They hardly spoke but anticipation swirled around them, outdoing the vigorous gusts of wind.

The sailboat had gathered momentum and Andrés warned that he would be moving into a tack. ‘We’re practically there,’ he announced as he turned the rudder sharply.
He’s going to capsize, the wind will flip the sail,
Luz thought, ducking under the boom as the boat jibed, but Andrés proved an expert sailor and, as with everything else, he was in total control of his boat.

He smiled. ‘Worried?’ he asked as though he had read her mind.

‘That was a bit close, don’t you think? We almost capsized!’

His smile grew broader and more roguish. ‘No faith, Luz, that’s your problem. I’m in charge, I’m always in charge. Haven’t you learnt that yet?’

He had certainly been in charge yesterday night. Did this man never say anything without double entendre?

‘How can I forget?’ she parried, her eyes glittering with the same mischief she knew filled his. He laughed out loud, and she thought how often he did that now compared to when they first met. It made her smile.

They were approaching what looked like a secluded, curving beach. The view was pure poetry. Distant citadels of cliffs and flying stone buttresses rose above the dark silk water, topped with deep-green cicada-singing pines, gnarled olive trees and wild carobs. On one side was a pretty town, dazzling white in the sunshine, hugging the hill midway; on the other gently rolling and rising vineyards.

Like a bronze sculpture, Andrés stood at the tiller, aiming the boat at a given spot on the beach. As they neared the shore there
was a grating sound as the underside of the boat met the shingle. He jumped out of the dinghy and gripped the gunwale.

‘Stay where you are,’ he ordered. ‘I’ll come and get you in a minute.’ He began tugging the craft up the beach, all in one long movement, so the curling waves would not swamp her as they broke along the shore.

As he extended a hand to help Luz out of the dinghy, watching her face as he did so, he said: ‘I can’t decide upon the exact blue of your eyes. Last night, when I held you, they were such a dark cobalt blue, they seemed almost black. Today, they’re more azure, like a cloudless sky on a midsummer’s day.’

There was a flash of genuine amusement on her face as she climbed out of the boat. ‘Thank you, Andrés, very poetic,’ she smiled. ‘Unfortunately, while you hide behind those sunglasses, I can’t repay the compliment.’

He turned his head and looked out to sea, his mouth falling into an impassive line. Was that the hint of a frown she glimpsed? She could see only part of his profile. But his next words were ordinary enough. ‘The glare hurts my eyes, especially when I’m out at sea,’ he explained, facing her again with a faint smile and removing his sunglasses.

Perhaps she had been wrong; there was nothing troubled about his look now. His jet-black stare fixed on her intensely, in a sensuous, enigmatic way that sent her falling into its depths. Suddenly she felt shy and nervous as if they had just met for the first time.

‘The perfect spot to spend an idle and delicious day,’ she said, dragging her eyes away from him to survey her surroundings properly. She looked back at the enamelled sea, the colour of pure cobalt, bathed in the exhilarating white light refracted from the rocks and the talcum powder sand. What a jewel! This was an unadulterated place, undiscovered and almost wild, where the only occupants were the sea creatures and birds.

‘I discovered this beach one afternoon when I was a teenager,’ Andrés explained, with a distant, dreamy look as his gaze moved beyond her. ‘At the time I was deeply troubled and needed to clear
the confused thoughts in my head. Ever since then, whenever I have a problem, I come here to think. To my knowledge it’s never been explored and has remained secluded and immune to the demands of the world.’ He smiled ruefully, lifting their things from the boat. ‘When I return home, after a few hours spent in this place, I’m calm and have usually found an answer to my problem.’

‘Yes, I can see why,’ said Luz, smiling. ‘It’s stunning, like a natural sanctuary. Is that a cabin?’ she continued, noticing a tiny thatched hut as she wandered up the beach. Tucked away in a far corner, it was shaded by a few bedraggled palms.

‘Yes, I built it. Sometimes it’s quite cold out here in winter. The wind is sharp and the sea gets quite choppy.’

Luz felt an uncomfortable wrench in the pit of her stomach. He didn’t just come here to clear his mind, she thought. This was the perfect love nest for his mischievous games. Was she the first to come here or had there been others? Andrés caught her eye. She was convinced once again he had read her mind. Damn her expressive, transparent face! It gave away her feelings every time, without fail.

Andrés watched the light blush rise and fade in her cheeks. ‘Relax,’ he said, the familiar flicker of humour twinkling in his dark irises. He dropped their bags on the sand and came closer. Lifting her face up, his gaze bore into her troubled eyes. He viewed her gravely.

‘This is my secret place. I’ve been jealous of it and have never wanted to share it with anyone,’ he whispered, his low voice charged with meaning; he paused a little and then his mouth moved slightly into a wry smile, ‘until today.’

Once again Luz was captive of his will and her lips parted imperceptibly, inviting the kiss she had craved since they had separated the night before.

‘I don’t want any other,’ he murmured softly, tracing butterfly kisses slowly down the curve of her cheek to her throat. ‘From now on, there will be only you
mi tierno amor. Solo tú, para la vida y para siempre
.’ His mouth trailed back up, securing her lips and sealing his words with a kiss that was everything she had yearned for.

Finally, they pulled apart and he stroked her cheek with his finger.

‘Are you hungry, Luz?’