Chapter Eleven

“Do you remember the day we met?” Helen asked later, as they stood on the balcony of his bedroom, watching the sunset after another perfect honeymoon day.

“How could I possibly forget?” he murmured into her hair, his arms winding around her slim waist as he stood behind her. “You were like a trapped animal in that room. An animal with a very attractive behind.”

“Even in my horrible work pants?”

“I’ve ripped them off in my fantasies many times, don’t you worry”

“You’ve had fantasies about me?”

His hand slid up from her waist and began to stroke her breast through the fine silk of her bathrobe. “Of course I have. I still do when you’re not here to indulge me for real.”

The thought of him fantasizing about her was an instant turn on. An image flashed through her mind of him lying naked on his bed, his hand resting on his flat stomach and then… Her voice was suddenly low and sexy. She liked the sound of that too. “I remember the feel of your knees on the back of mine as you pushed me down. I thought you were going to—”

“Murder you?”

“Possibly, or…have me.”

“You weren’t particularly receptive that day. You almost crippled me in that department.”

She heard him take a long, slow breath and reach for her other breast. She pictured him closing his eyes as he felt her, as he cupped her curves and molded them against his large hands. She loved that he wanted to enjoy her. “In your fantasy, do you take me there on the bed? From behind?”

His fingers grew still and she could feel his heartbeat between her shoulder blades. “Sometimes.”

“Is it…is it primitive? Rough?” His hands began to move lightly across her breasts again. He must be able to feel the way her heartbeat had increased with excitement.

“No, it’s exquisite because you beg me to do it to you.”

Helen gripped the cold stone shelf of the balcony as she felt his growing erection pressing through the sheer material covering her bottom. His own robe was never going to restrain him, that part of him was too powerful for Chinese silk. “And do you? Do you do it to me when I beg you?”

“Always.” Ricardo trailed one hand up the length of her thigh, twisting her robe in his hand and lifting it up and around her waist to expose her naked lower half. “You’re always ready for me, very eager, very wet, and I’m always prepared…”

Helen heard him tear open a condom wrapper with his teeth and instinctively leaned her weight forward against the stone balustrade. He was going to…and she wanted him to so badly. The hard, cold balcony pushed against her rib cage beneath her breasts and she roughly pulled the edges of the robe apart to intensify the sensation, letting it slide off her shoulders, his penis was hot and rigid as it slid between her parted thighs and the cool night breeze tightened her nipples. He nudged along her vulva with his length, back and forth until she began to groan. “Yes…please. Now.”

She heard him adjust his footing as her robe slid to the floor and she felt the immediate pressure of him pushing upwards and into her. His thickness stretching her wide, the weight of him against her back and buttocks pressing, back and forth in tiny movements until one long thrust secured him deep inside. His voice was low and hoarse. “I’ve wanted you like this for so long.”

She gasped with excitement as he reached around and slid his fingers between her legs, stroking, exploring until he found her swollen nub and began to tease her senseless with his fingertips. Tiny circles that made her bones melt and a sharp flick to heighten the pleasure as he thrust hard into her. “Ricardo…yes…more…”

She heard his breathing grow harsh as she pushed back against him, begging him with her body to go further and faster. She felt his hands slide to her hips and grip her firmly in place, his lips and body hair rasping against her bareback. “Can you feel it, querida? Can you feel how much I want you?”

He was huge inside her and she felt wilder and more sensual than she ever had before. He was irresistible. “I want it all,” she moaned. Her feet lifted slightly from the cold tiled floor as she spread her legs as wide as possible and she felt his fingertips dig into the soft flesh on her hips.

“On your knees then,” he whispered harshly against her neck and pressed against her until her nipples were flattened against the stone balcony. “On the lounger.”

Helen looked to her left and knew exactly what he had in mind. It was perfect, deep and wide cream cushions just inches away. He turned her around, his thick shaft still inside her and the twisting sensation it caused in her vagina made her shiver. She was already close to the edge. He eased her forward against the lounger so that her knees touched the fabric and her words seemed to come from nowhere. “Push me down.” The breath left her body and she twisted her face to the side as his weight came slowly down. Blind lust ripped through her as her breasts were crushed against the coarse cotton fabric, stiff nipples inverting with the pressure and buzzing with intense arousal. “Now have me.”

“Lift up for me,” Ricardo muttered as the fingers of one hand found her clitoris again. “So I can go really deep, make you come really hard.”

Every muscle in her body was tight with anticipation as she curved her back and offered herself up to him as far as she could. His fingers circled her hot flesh as he began to move, each sliding movement pushing her breasts upwards and into the rough fibers of the cushion until his other hand slid beneath her and sought out a hard nipple. He nipped it firmly and repeatedly between his fingers until her hips bucked in reflex, then she cried out as he gently pinched her clitoris at the same time. “Oh God…”

“That’s it,” his voice trembled slightly as his pace increased. Long powerful thrusts that brought his balls in tightly so their pubic hair meshed and increased the friction between their bodies.

Within seconds she began to tumble helplessly into orgasm, delirious with black hot sensation as his penis took control of her entire body. Plunging, panting, her fingers clawed the cushion and she didn’t care who heard her scream as she started to climax.

Ricardo groaned loudly as his own release became imminent and his rhythm changed. Drops of his sweat felt cold as they landed on the hot skin of her back and shoulders. What he was doing to her felt savage and she welcomed it, she wanted it. She ached for him to totally possess her in that moment of heat and musk and feral need. She heard him curse in Catalan, dark sentences that included her name and then a brief moment of breathless silence as his body went into spasm and she felt him start to come. His body shuddered his release into her, long and slow, and he made a low noise that sounded almost like he was in pain. She felt her vagina close around him, convulse, twist and squeeze until she too tipped over the edge into her own swirling abyss of orgasm.

He had her.

There was no going back. Body, soul, and heart, she was his.

…

Ricardo awoke with a start. She was there with him, in his bed, soft and warm. He looked down and saw she was still out for the count with her nose pressed against his chest. It was a cute nose. He listened to her breathing, slow and regular and wondered if he really did snore. Nobody had ever mentioned it before.

He rubbed his eyes with the hand that wasn’t pinned to the bed by the woman and realized that he hadn’t slept with many of his consorts. He’d had sex with plenty, but he usually found a way to avoid seeing them in the morning. There was something about “morning” that was far too intimate for his liking, far too much like the beginning of something meaningful.

He should get up, extricate himself quietly and shower. He should…Ricardo closed his eyes and inhaled her scent, the sweet herbs of her shampoo still lingered and his pillow felt more comfortable than he could ever remember. He’d been sleeping a lot more soundly since Helen had been sharing his bed and knew he shouldn’t get used to it, but still he couldn’t bear to get up and leave her there sleeping. He felt safe there.

His thoughts drifted to her parents in their ramshackle farmhouse full of cobwebs and kittens. They had very little in a material sense, but they had each other and that seemed to be enough for them. He supposed they’d say they loved each other as husband and wife should. Maybe it was possible to find happiness within a marriage. Maybe some marriages did last. Maybe some lucky people really did go on to find a “Happy Ever After,” but that didn’t mean he’d started to believe in love.

The simple comfort of their marriage bed and having time to lie there and think was beginning to lull him into exploring dangerous ideas, like ideas about families, the stuff normal people did. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad…

He looked down at her again, at his wife, and felt a pang of anxiety. She was there because she loved money, not because she had any feelings for him, and he shouldn’t forget that. But then again, if that was her only fault he could deal with it. He had more than enough money to keep a small country running, and, quite frankly, most women wanted rich husbands, didn’t they? It was biological, an instinct to find the best mate to father their offspring. He wouldn’t want to become suddenly penniless, either, if he was honest, and what were the chances of him ever finding a woman who wasn’t interested in his wealth? Zero.

“Ricardo?” she murmured, and he felt her begin to stir.

“I’m here, honey, go back to sleep.” He tried not to panic at the way his stomach had flipped at the sound of her voice. His heart was already beginning to race as he felt her fingers trace sleepy circles on his chest. He swallowed hard when he realized he’d just made a huge life-changing decision without hesitation.

“You’re beautiful,” she said, eyes closed, still half asleep.

“So are you.” He squeezed his eyes tightly shut. He wanted to keep her. He wanted her to stay his wife.

He needed a plan.