Nan Ryan (32 page)

Her heart throbbing inside the tight bodice of her off-the-shoulder white lace dress, the princess wanted this man with a deep and urgent longing. Uncertain if he felt the same, she had to find out. She had to go out to him.

The princess drew a quick, ragged breath and stepped silently out onto the balcony and up into the moonlight. Softly, she spoke his name.

“Virgil.”

Virgil slowly turned and the princess’s racing heart rejoiced. On seeing her, his passionate eyes were instantly aflame with longing.

As she approached him, the princess said, almost shyly, “I … it was … it’s so warm this evening.”

In one fluid movement Virgil took the cigar from his mouth, flicked it away, reached for her, drew her into his close embrace, and said, “Baby, it’s about to get a whole lot warmer.”

34

Before she could respond
, Virgil wrapped a hand around the back of her neck, lowered his head, and kissed her. The enveloping hotness of his mouth sucked the very breath from her lungs and made her heart pound alarmingly. When his lips released hers, she felt faint, her knees were trembling, and she clung to him for support.

Virgil swept her up into his powerful arms and carried her swiftly inside her darkened bedroom.

“You
did
come,” the princess murmured breathlessly, clinging to his neck. “I thought you weren’t …”

“Sweetheart, of course I came,” he said, inhaling deeply of the perfumed fragrance of her hair. “I wanted to come all this time, but I couldn’t get away from the don. I’ve been going crazy.”

“So have I,” she admitted, as he lowered her to her feet inside the bedroom.

“Jesus, I’ve been in agony. From the minute I turned and saw you in the
sala
this evening,” Virgil said in a low, husky drawl, “All I could think of was being inside you again.”

“Virgil … oh, Virgil,” she whispered, both shocked and thrilled by his stirring words.

His fiery mouth again covered hers in a kiss so daunting she melted in total surrender. Searing heat enveloped them. Their burning hunger too long delayed, there was no time for civility or restraint. They went at each other in a frenzy of exploding passion, unable to restrain themselves.

Lips anxiously combined in greedy, searching quests, but blazing kisses were not enough. Feverish bodies pressed frantically together, but crushing closeness was not nearly close enough. Roaming hands impatiently sought yielding flesh, but no amount of intimate touching slaked their urgent need.

Without a word, both knew instinctively that taking time to undress before they made love was out of the question. They were far too hot for each other to waste precious minutes disrobing fully. They would have to settle for what burning flesh the other was able to easily bare.

Virgil’s lean fingers danced with a wondrous dexterity, sweeping the princess’s lace bodice down her right arm to her elbow. His lips fused hotly to hers, he made an impatient groan in the back of his throat, and she instantly read his meaning. She lifted her shoulder so he could slide the lace fabric past her elbow, down her arm, and off.

As soon as her right breast was bared, Virgil anxiously drew her closer, but the princess tore her lips from his and pulled back a little. He knew the reason when her hands lifted to his chest. In seconds she had undone the remaining buttons of his silk shirt, and gazing into his smoldering eyes, she impatiently swept the shirt apart.

But she paused when she saw the clean white tape wrapped around him.

“Oh, Virgil,” she murmured, “I forgot about your ribs.”

“Forget again, baby,” he said, cupped the back of her head, and applied gentle pressure, urging her to him.

He shuddered deeply when, murmuring his name, she brushed warm, sweet kisses to the bared expanse of his naked torso.

“Jesus, sweetheart,” he said on deep inhalation of breath, his eyes closed, his heart drumming.

The princess let her open lips glide up over his chest to his throat. She clasped the ends of the scarlet silk scarf hanging loose around his neck and slowly reeled him closer. She tilted her head, opened her mouth, and touched the tip of her tongue to the hollow of his throat. She felt him shudder against her and was thrilled beyond belief that she could so affect him. Her lips traveled up over his freshly shaven chin and settled hotly on his mouth.

As they kissed, Virgil clasped her upper arms and drew her flush against his body. They trembled and sighed into each other’s mouths when the princess’s bare right breast flattened against his naked chest.

For a fleeting second, that was enough for them. They stood there in the darkness embracing, their arms wrapped tightly around each other, their lips blended in a fervent kiss. Virgil’s heart was beating against her bare breast in a rapid, heavy cadence that thrummed through her as if it were her own.

It was Virgil who grew restless, Virgil who wanted more. Much, much more.

Their lips reluctantly separated, and Virgil quickly shifted their position. He urged the princess back over his supporting arm, raised his hand, and cupped the soft, pale breast he had freed. He bent his head, kissed the rosy crest, and heard her quick intake of air.

The princess’s eyes slipped closed when his blazing mouth closed over her aching nipple and his lips tugged forcefully. She leaned back in his encircling arm and felt the skirts of her evening gown rising. Felt his deft fingers at the waistband of her underwear. Felt the slinky satin sliding down her thighs. Felt his hand around her knee. Felt him slip her left leg free of the wispy encumbrance.

Virgil reluctantly tore his lips from her breast and kissed her waiting mouth again. A deep, probing kiss that scattered her wits so totally she hardly realized that he was propelling her backward across the room. When they stopped moving and the compelling kiss finally ended, she opened her eyes and saw that he had maneuvered her—not to the bed—but up against a wall where a wide wedge of moonlight illuminated them.

“I want to see you when I love you,” Virgil whispered huskily.

The dazed princess nodded weakly and let her head fall back against the wall as he shoved her billowing skirts up out of his way. While romantic guitar music floated up from the courtyard below and the pleasing scent of roses perfumed the night air, she gazed into Virgil’s flashing eyes as he wrapped his fingers around the back of her knee and lifted her stockinged leg, urging it up around his back. Her arms clasped tightly around his neck, the inflamed princess came up on tiptoe, slid her bent knee higher, and clamped it firmly against his side.

Which was exactly what Virgil wanted her to do.

His mouth again took fiery possession of hers, and as he kissed her, he slipped his hand between their bodies. He anxiously flipped open the buttons to his tight, black charro trousers and freed his pulsing tumescence. It sprang eagerly toward the inviting warmth of her slender body, settling snugly against her bare quivering stomach.

Virgil ended the kiss, murmuring, “Hold onto me, baby. Don’t let me go.”

Breathless, the princess tightened her arms around the strong column of his neck. Virgil put his hands to her waist and lifted her a little off the floor, and at the same time bent his knees and crouched down a little.

Then, looking directly in her humid eyes, he held her with one strong arm, ran the tip of his middle finger gently along her swollen cleft. He found her hot and wet and as ready as he. He gripped himself and swiftly inserted his hard, throbbing flesh into her soft wet heat.

Both gasped in ecstasy as he slid easily up inside. Virgil braced his feet apart. He hooked her bent knee over his arm and pushed it up and out, opening her wider so she could take all of him. On fire, the blood scalding through her veins, the princess gasped with joy as he thrust into her, firmly implanting himself in her yielding flesh.

The princess looked into the hot eyes of her dark, enigmatic lover as he filled her so completely, stretching her to accommodate his awesome tumescence. Feeling him throbbing inside her, loving it, the princess realized that in all her years of marriage there had never been one instance that could remotely compare to the electrifying sensations touched off by this dark giant’s artful lovemaking.

Panting, gasping, rocking together, the two of them stood in the day-bright moonlight and made hot, impatient love with their clothes half on, half off.

And it was good.

Too
good.

After only a few magical minutes, the princess felt herself starting to lose control. She tried to stop herself. She didn’t want it to end now. She wanted the sweet elation to last and last. She wanted to stay just this way forever with her lover buried deep inside her, exciting her, pleasuring her. She wanted to remain suspended in this sweet state of building bliss.

But she was far too inexperienced to curb the swiftly increasing pressure. She could feel the intense zenith coming and was powerless against it.

Not wanting the ecstacy to end, she asked anxiously, “This won’t be all, will it? You’ll give me …?”

“Let yourself go, baby,” Virgil reassured her in low, sexy tones. “This is only the beginning. I’ll give you as much as you want.
More
than you want.”

His whispered words and the rhythmic thrust of his hard flesh in hers sent her helplessly spiraling into the throes of incredible orgasm. His own release beginning, Virgil kissed her quickly, lest her cries of ecstacy carry across the courtyard to the family wing of the hacienda.

When finally the princess collapsed weakly against him, Virgil swept her up into his arms and carried her to the spacious bathroom. There the sated princess was soon enjoying yet another first as Virgil undressed her and himself. He lowered her into the cooling tub of water, which Consuela had thoughtfully filled before leaving, then stepped in and sank down to sit facing her. Without his prompting, she draped her legs atop his, scooted close, and put her arms around his neck.

Through the skylight directly above the large porcelain tub, moonlight poured down as they played in the water, teasing each other, laughing and touching and kissing. They stayed in the tub for a long, relaxing time, taking turns running a soapy washcloth over each other’s bodies.

“You’re getting your tape wet,” the princess said as she washed Virgil’s broad chest.

“Doesn’t matter. My ribs are fine,” he lied. “Why don’t you take the tape off for me?”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she said.

“Don’t worry,” he replied flatly. His eyes changed minutely, his words holding a double meaning. “You won’t hurt me, baby. I won’t let you.”

But the princess never noticed. She peeled the tape from his side and gently bathed his bruised ribs. She caught him off guard when abruptly she dropped the washcloth, lowered her head, and tenderly kissed the discolored flesh.

When she raised her head, she smiled at him, and asked teasingly, “Did I make it all better?”

Virgil returned her smile, cupped her cheek, skimmed his thumb over her lips, and said, “For the moment, but you better keep your lips ready. I may need further treatment.”

She laughed and playfully bit his thumb.

“You’ll pay for that,” he warned, pretending anger.

“I’m not frightened.”

“You should be.” He growled and nipped harmlessly at her bare shoulder. “I bite back.”

The princess squealed, shoved him away, and hit at him. He retaliated, grabbing her wrist and shoving her arm behind her. The horseplay soon turned into love play. The frisky punches became tender touches. The glancing jabs became gentle caresses. The benign biting changed to tantalizing kisses.

“Let’s go to bed, baby,” Virgil said against her temple.

“I’m ready,” she eagerly replied.

35

Back in the shadowy bedroom
, the princess reached for the nightgown that Consuela had laid out for her. Shaking his head, Virgil took it from her, tossed it aside.

“But I—” she began.

“Won’t need it,” he finished the sentence. “It’s much too hot for nightclothes.”

He stepped closer, lifted his hands, took the pins from her upswept ginger hair, and watched it cascade down around her bare ivory shoulders. Awed by the sight of the long, lustrous tresses, he ran his hands through the heavy locks, relishing the feel of the silky hair spilling through his fingers. A muscle jumped at the corner of his mouth. He tightened his grip in her hair and tipped her head back.