Page 18 of Modern Romance June 2025 5-8

He clasped her neck, his thumb stroking the pulse hammering against her collarbone.

‘Say the words,’ he demanded. His callused palm rode up her thigh, under the chiffon, to drag her to the edge of the table.

‘Yes, yes,’ she gasped.

His lips found the pulse under her ear as he wrenched down the gown’s thin strap. The sound of rending fabric filled the room.

‘Wait, Ana’s dress…’ she managed, her head angling instinctively to give his mouth more access.

‘I will buy her another,’ he murmured, his voice hoarse, as he tore the bodice to free her breasts from the inbuilt bra.

He swore in Spanish, his eyes becoming glassy as his gaze raked over her swollen flesh. He cupped her heavy breasts, then bent to suck one hardening nipple into his mouth. She sobbed, the sharp drawing sensation so exquisite she could feel it deep in her abdomen as he tormented one breast, then the other.

She thrust her fingers into his dark silky hair, to hold him to her, to demand more. Her breathing became laboured, the need more so as arrows of sensation shot from her breasts to her core. He hooked her legs over his hips to rub the ridge in his pants at the melting, aching place between her thighs.

Her breath heaved as she clung onto his shoulders, the sensations too much and yet not enough. She felt trapped, devoured, tormented, the pleasure persuasive, provocative, painful, the aching empty space at her core hungry to be filled.

As if he had read her mind, he lifted her into his arms to carry her to the open staircase, murmuring something in a language she didn’t understand.

‘I don’t… I don’t speak Catalan,’ she whispered, kissing his cheek, his jaw.

‘Vamos arriba…’ he murmured, caressing her bottom, the erection still pressed intimately against the place now yearning for relief. ‘Upstairs,’ he repeated in English. ‘We must find a bed.’

He took the stairs two at a time to reach a mezzanine level. A huge bed took up most of the sparsely furnished space. A large open window looked out across the orchard, the lights from thecastilloand the party they had left what felt like a lifetime ago sparkled through the trees. The scent of a citronella candle burning on the window ledge provided the only light in the shadowy room.

He dropped her on the bed to kick off his shoes, drag off his jacket. He ripped off his shirt and tie, then went to work on his trousers.

She propped herself on her elbows to watch, her breath catching.

Her excitement surged. She’d thought he looked good in clothes, but without them…Oh, wow!

She devoured the sight of taut roped muscles, defined pecs, the ridged abs divided by a happy trail of dark hair. His sleek tanned skin gleamed in the candlelight. The vicious hunger flared, along with the ripple of trepidation, when he fished a foil packet out of his pocket, then shoved off his trousers.

The erection, so long and thick, thrust towards his belly button from the nest of dark hair at his groin while he rolled on the condom.

Had she ever seen anything so magnificent…? Or so intimidating? She swallowed, her throat thickening with anticipation, and panic. She didn’t think so.

He climbed on the bed, caging her in, pressing her back. His lips nuzzled her neck as he dragged off the torn dress and her panties.

She clasped her arm over her breasts, suddenly shy, instinctively aware no man had ever seen herthisnaked before.

‘No, Cerys, do not cover yourself,’ he murmured.

She shivered as he lifted her arm free, her breasts heavy under that scalding gaze. He skimmed his thumb under a thrusting nipple, still wet from his mouth.

‘I must kiss you,’ he said.

She nodded, expecting him to kiss her mouth again, but instead he trailed his lips along her collarbone, then licked and sucked his way down her body—worshipping each yearning spot, each throbbing pulse point—until the ragged moans were queuing up in her throat.

After feasting on her tender nipples, he drew lower to skim kisses over her ribs and circle her belly button before sinking between her thighs. Grasping her buttocks, he lifted her to his mouth.

She sobbed, struggling to catch her breath, to control her fraying emotions, and the shocking pleasure as the explosion of heat and endorphins consumed her.

Fireworks in my belly…

The thought whispered across her consciousness as his tongue swept over the very heart of her, the rasping lick making her hips buck. A groan broke free.

‘Shh…’ he murmured.

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