she gasped; the sound was muffled by his lips as he slanted his mouth over hers and kissed her with a feverish hunger that warned her there could be no going back. He meant to possess her, and she welcomed his passionate urgency, parting her lips so that he could thrust his tongue between them to explore the moistness within.
She snatched a breath when at last he lifted his mouth from hers and trailed a line of kisses down her throat, to capture the pulse jerking erratically at its base. His hands caressed her breasts once more, and then, to her startled delight, he lowered his head and closed his lips around one nipple to suckle the rosy peak until the pleasure was almost unbearable.
She moaned softly and clung to him while he transferred his attention to her other nipple, lashing it with his tongue until it was pebble-hard. She shivered—not with cold, but with a heated desire that was growing ever more frantic. Molten warmth pooled between her thighs and she ached there, ached for him to touch her and give her the sweet release her body craved.
The room tilted as Cesario swept her into his arms and carried her over to the bed. He laid her down on the cool sheets and held her gaze as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her knickers.
There was something incredibly sexy about Beth’s simple plain cotton underwear, Cesario brooded. His already hardened shaft strained uncomfortably against his trousers as he pulled her knickers down to reveal the neat triangle of curls that hid her femininity.
He wanted her to undress him, for her to stroke his throbbing length with her soft white hands. But the mere thought of her caressing him brought him to the edge of no return, and with more haste than grace he stripped and lowered himself onto the bed.
Her hair felt like silk. He ran his fingers through its length and then cupped her face, bringing his mouth down on hers once more in a sensual kiss, seeking a response that she gave with such sweet eagerness that his heart clenched.
But although she kissed him with a fervour that made him ache she seemed curiously shy, and did not boldly explore his body as an experienced mistress would do. He sensed her faint wariness, and instinct warned him she had not had many other lovers.
His jaw tensed when he recalled her telling him how her ex-employer had assaulted her. No wonder she seemed tentative. There was a need for restraint, for him to slow the pace and arouse her with gentle care. It would take all his will-power, he acknowledged ruefully. He could not remember ever being so turned on. But from the outset Beth had cast a spell on him with her slanting green eyes and he was utterly lost to her magic.
Beth’s heart thudded when Cesario trailed his hands slowly down her body. He seemed in no rush, and the realisation that he was controlling his urgent desire helped her to relax. The unpleasant memories of Hugo Devington’s clumsy attempts to touch her body faded from her mind. She trusted Cesario completely. He treated her as his equal and she knew he would make love to her with consideration and respect.
Excitement fluttered inside her when he skimmed his fingertips lightly over her stomach and traced the indent of her waist, before moving lower to carefully ease her legs apart. It was new and wondrous, and she held her breath as he brushed his fingers in a gossamer-soft caress up and down her moist opening. She felt no shyness, just a fierce need that made her spread her legs wider and lift her hips as he parted her and slid an exploratory finger between her slick folds.
Slowly her internal muscles relaxed, allowing him to push deeper, and she gave a startled cry of pleasure when he bent his head to her breast and laved one nipple and then its twin with his tongue while he continued his erotic exploration of her body with his fingers.
Reality faded and she entered an almost dream-like state dominated by the incredible sensations Cesario was arousing in her. She curled her hands into the sheet, her whole being focused on the rhythmic pulse of his finger slipping in and out of her and the delicate brush of his thumb pad across the ultra-sensitive nub of her clitoris.
‘Touch me, cara,’ he said roughly.
She opened her eyes and her heart lurched when she saw the feral hunger in his gaze. He took her hand and guided her down to his solid length. Steel encased in velvet, she thought wonderingly, and so big—surely he was too big for her to take him inside her?
She felt a flutter of apprehension, but at the same time her body ached for something more than the delicate caress of his hands. A fierce need was building inside her—a need that she sensed would only be assuaged when he replaced his finger with the hard arousal that was already pushing between her thighs.
He kissed her mouth, deep and slow, and the inherent tenderness of the kiss dismissed her faint fear. She trusted him, and her tense muscles relaxed, so that when he slid his hands beneath her bottom and lifted her she bent her knees and opened for him, her heart-rate quickening as the tip of him pressed against her welcoming moistness.
He groaned, but instead of pushing forward he withdrew and rested his brow lightly on hers, his chest heaving as he fought for control. ‘I must protect you, cara,’ he muttered, lifting himself from her. ‘Don’t go away.’
Mystified, she watched him stride through a door which she saw led into the tiny bathroom. Why was he leaving her? Had he decided not to make love to her? Her body throbbed with unfulfilled desire. But he was back within seconds, pausing to slide a rubber sheath over his burgeoning manhood before he knelt over her and sank between her spread thighs.
‘Carissima,’ he whispered, and surged forward—only to halt again when he felt the fragile barrier of her virginity. ‘Beth?’ He stared into her wide eyes, stunned to see the faint trepidation in their green depths. ‘Your first time?’
There was no point in lying. ‘Yes.’ She felt him pull back and frantically gripped his shoulders. ‘Are you going to stop?’
‘Do you want me to?’ he asked hoarsely.
She shook her head, and driven by innate honesty admitted, ‘I want you to be the first.’
Cesario expelled his breath on a ragged sigh. She was so lovely, his English rose. And now she would be truly his.
‘If I had known I would have taken things more slowly,’ he murmured, bending his head to anoint each of her reddened nipples with his lips. He heard her soft gasp, and with great care he slowly eased forward. He felt the initial restraint of her body and slanted his mouth over hers to catch her faint surprised cry as he pushed through the delicate membrane and surged deep into her.
He fitted perfectly, Beth thought, a sweet languor stealing over as the stinging pain of his possession quickly passed. He filled her, completed her, and she arched her hips to welcome each thrust of his rigid length, discovering as she did so that he was taking her on a journey of such intense pleasure that she hoped it would never end. Urgency replaced her languor, and she twisted her head on the pillow as he drove into her with long, measured strokes, setting a rhythm that took her quickly to the edge of some unknown place and held her there, gasping and sobbing his name, as the first spasms rippled from her central core.
Beads of sweat glistened on his bronzed shoulders and she sensed instinctively that he was fighting to control the insistent demands of his body. His skin was drawn taut over his razor-sharp cheekbones and his eyes glittered with a primitive hunger that sent a thrill of excitement through her. He thrust again, the deepest yet, and she shattered, her slender body arching as spasm after spasm ripped through her in an unending tide of indescribable pleasure.
He gripped her hips and held her tight, increased his pace, faster, harder, while she convulsed around him until with a groan rent from deep in his soul he
