Passionate Pursuit (12 page)

Tomás wanted to ask more, but kept his peace, giving her what she needed now. He kissed her with all the longing he possessed. She responded eagerly. They made noises only lovers could, filling the room with passionate sounds as old as time.

He cupped her neck and pulled his mouth free. Her lips were wet from their kiss, bruised with their desire.

“You willingly become my slave in here?”

“From this moment forward.”

“I can do with you as I will?”

“Use me well and never deny yourself. In these rooms, everything is possible, nothing forbidden. This is our world.”

He never wanted to go anywhere else. Her desire stirred him deeply, her passion coming from deep within, not a game like other señoritas who expected a betrothal or marriage in return. Beatriz wanted him for the man he was, flawed and lacking in so many ways.

She didn’t see his imperfections.

He embraced her as fiercely as he dared, not wanting to hurt her.

“Are you all right?” She hugged him. “Have I spoken out of turn?”

“Never. You continue to amaze me.”

“I have yet to do anything.”

“You will.” He released her. “Undress me.”

She regarded his clothing. “Such an easy task.”

“In time my demands will grow far more difficult.” He leaned down until their noses nearly touched. “Some might say hard.”

Color crept up her throat to her cheeks. Studiously, she avoided his gaze. After unbuckling his belt, she hung it over her shoulder. “So heavy.” She stroked the fine leather. “How do you manage to wear this every day?”

“A man learns to carry many weighty things around.”

She glanced at his groin. “Surely, you must grow tired of such a burden and need relief at times.”

He did right now. His member strained against his braies and hose, wanting inside her sheath so badly he feared harming them both with his desire. “Are you tempting me?”

“Undressing you.” She put his belt on the floor, pulled his shirt off, and dropped the garment on silk striped blue and gold.

On her knees, she tugged off his shoes and hose, placing each item on the other, undressing him far more slowly than he would have liked. Fevered and wanting, he could barely stand still. His muscles kept bunching, demanding action like the warrior he was, the master who owned her body and soul.

He wanted her heart. Unwilling to settle for anything less, he held himself in check.

At length, she relieved him of his braies, and lowered it to his other things. With him finally nude, she kissed a particularly long battle scar and looked up, her mouth close to his rigid sex, her breaths skipping over the thickened rod.

He snatched a meager amount of air. Taking more was beyond his capabilities. “On your feet.” He was determined to give her a fantasy she’d never forget even if he died waiting for his own pleasure. “Take off your clothes.”

Her knowing smile fueled his need for everything she was. Bright, kind, seductive, his. Tomás wouldn’t consider any other outcome for them. They belonged together.

She placed her shoes, stockings, and tunic next to his garments. When she touched her torn sleeve from Rufio’s violence, her mouth turned down.

“Would you like me to help?” He didn’t want anything dampening her spirits. “Or do you want to kill me with the wait?”

Beatriz laughed, his teasing having the desired effect. She worked the laces. As always, there seemed to be no end to them. In the future, he’d insist she never wear clothes on their days together. Perhaps he’d give his entire staff the same time off, leaving him and Beatriz free to roam the castle nude.

He grinned at his outrageous fantasy.

She gave him an odd look and tossed her gown and chemise on the other clothing. Gloriously naked at last. No harem girl could match her beauty, dark hair against milky skin, her nipples rosy, breasts ripe, hips lavish. She was beyond temptation, more womanly than a man’s most indecent dreams.

Her scent captivated. The hint of musk enthralled.

She cocked her head. “What are you thinking?”

Better to show than to tell. He pulled silk from the wall, the fabric light as air, tinted yellow and green. “Give me your hands, wrists together.”

She kept her arms at her sides. “What?”

“Already you tire of being my slave?”

“No…I…” She put out her hands.

Tomás wrapped the fabric around her wrists and secured it with a knot. Using the silk as he might a rope, he led her to a screen next to an open window. Sun spilled inside, slanting across her hip and the dark curls between her legs, already damp with her arousal.

His shoulders and chest grew increasingly taut, his escalating need difficult to ignore. “Raise your arms above your head.”

She looked at the screen. “Is this what a Moor does in his harem?”

“If not, he should.”

She laughed and lifted her arms. He secured her wrists to the screen and stepped back, regarding her nudity, how vulnerable she was to his will and touch.

* * * *

She softened beneath his gaze, eager to have him fill her. They’d careened toward these moments since their first kiss. Rufio had simply hurried matters along. When he’d pressed himself against her, she’d feared surviving his attack more than she had death. A lifetime would never erase the memory of a man mounting her against her will.

She’d escaped the city to avoid such a future.

She couldn’t deny herself or Tomás any longer. Her virginity meant nothing if she had to lie with someone she didn’t love or respect. To live out her life without having known Tomás’s touch, strength, and passion was too awful to imagine. Whatever happened in the future, she’d always have these moments.

Lust flooded his features, along with awe and tenderness. She wasn’t simply a means to an end. She mattered to him. He’d proven himself when he’d fought Rufio, helped Yolanda, tended the garden here, and carried in fresh water.

He’d worked hard to make her happy, giving Beatriz the greatest gift a man could.

She loved him. Foolish, of course. Tradition said she should feel shame for losing her virginity, especially without marriage first. Wonder filled her. Never would she regret this day or any others they might have.

He touched the silk around her wrists and slid his fingers down the insides of her arms. She laughed. “That tickles.”

“Then I must do something else.”

He licked her nipple and eased the tip inside his mouth.

Heaven. She raised her face to the ceiling. Each swirl of his tongue sent warmth surging to her mound, dampening her folds even more.

He suckled her other nipple, his mouth hot, hand between her legs, gliding over her slippery cleft. His growl sounded pleased and aroused.

The most exciting thing she’d ever heard.

He sank to his knees, exposing her sex to his view and touch.

She couldn’t have been more naked or owned more completely. He tongued her opening and licked her nub. Delight erupted within her. Eager to give herself to him, she pushed closer.

He gripped her hips, giving her no peace or release, slowing his licks and pausing, then beginning anew before she’d caught her breath. Whenever she was ready to fall over the edge and soar, he stopped, allowing the feelings to fade.

She burned with frustration, then went soft with submission each time he briefly gave her what she needed. All too soon, she was certain she’d lose her mind. “Please, give me relief.”

“In time.”

She might not survive that long. Abruptly, he pulled his mouth from her sex and stroked her instead. Touch firm, movements quick.

Release whisked through her, her sheath pulsing rhythmically. Her head fell forward, knees bent, every part of her so weak that standing proved a trial.

Tomás shot to his feet, untied her wrists, and swept her into his arms.

She curled into him, her cheek to his shoulder, breath heating his neck.

He lowered her to a mattress draped in gold silk. The fabric shimmered in light streaming across the room. With her wrists cuffed in one hand, he imprisoned her arms over her head and settled between her legs, trapping her further.

She’d never known such freedom, a curious weightlessness, the dark days she’d lived finally in the past. “Fill me, please, before we both burst. Especially you.”

His features were tight with passion, muscles tense, blond tresses falling over his forehead. The image he created was more beautiful than an angel. And as tortured as the damned, his color rising. “Why do you wait?”

“Our coupling may hurt at first.”

“Followed by pleasure, no?”

“More than you can imagine.”

“Show me. Teach me.”

She needed him to love her and pulled back her legs, inviting him to take what she offered.

He regarded her for a long moment, their intimacy reaching her soul. He lifted his shaft to her opening, bathed the crown in her moisture, and entered fully.

She started but didn’t cry out, welcoming the sting, Tomás making her his. He was a large man, his member stretching her sheath to the limit, filling her completely.

He huffed out several breaths, pulled in more, and kissed her shoulder. “Will you live?”

“Will you?”

“I have no intention of dying at this point.” He pulled out of her until only his crown remained inside, then plunged again. Their curls touched for a moment before he pumped once more.

The sting faded beneath new tension building within her sheath. Her opening seemed smaller, congested somehow. On an impulse, she squeezed her channel around his shaft.

He groaned loudly, pumped faster, and stroked her nub.

She shuddered from the intense pleasure. Her sheath tightened around his sex, adding to the friction between them. They rocked in time with his thrusts, breathing ragged, sounds reduced to moans, whimpers, grunts, and growls.

Beatriz yielded first, trembling from the delight he’d delivered. Soaring as she’d never done before.

* * * *

Tomás couldn’t get close enough to her no matter how hard he tried. Coupling with Beatriz wasn’t enough. He needed to be a part of her blood and marrow, so deep within that nothing would ever separate them.

He drove his sex into hers, its tightness and heat precisely what he needed, the same as her response. Her sheath pulsed around his rod, proving her satisfaction. Reaching release a second time, she moaned roughly, caught up in pleasure that overshadowed convention.

Beatriz enjoyed coupling as much as a man did. She was more than perfect. She was a miracle.

He lost himself completely between her legs, lust consuming him. Her breasts shook with his powerful thrusts, the faint slap of their bodies the most beautiful sounds he’d ever heard. He fought release as relentlessly as he’d battled the Moors, wanting this to last forever.

His passion betrayed him at each step. Pressure built within his shaft and sac to an unmanageable level, pleasure wanting its due. He tightened his shoulders, squeezed his lids, and surrendered, roaring like an uncivilized beast.

Seconds later, he trembled like a newborn, his strength drained fully.

He sank down and supported his weight on his elbows to avoid crushing her.

She smoothed back his hair and tightened her sheath around his shaft once more.

He shuddered. “Squeeze again and I may die.”

“Forgive me. I had no idea how fragile you are.”

He laughed tiredly and lifted his head with great effort. “Have I shown and taught you well?”

Her smile was luminous. “I may need more lessons.”

Beatriz hadn’t believed Tomás could surprise her more than he already had. She was wrong. “You and I will go to Hell for this.”

He grinned at her from across the narrow pool, his elbows resting on the edge, legs stretched out. Beneath the water, his shaft looked even thicker and longer, his sac luscious.

“I see no sin in bathing.” He gave her an innocent look. “Do you?”

She arched one eyebrow. “Is that what you call this?”

He’d posed her quite indecently, her legs parted and bent at the knees, sex displayed, breasts skimming the water.

He sighed noisily. “I call this heaven.”

Even paradise couldn’t match the splendor of this moment or place. A soft breeze flowed through the airy room, ruffling the silk hangings, delivering sweetness from flowers, freshness from vegetation. Birds sang. Water slapped gently against stone.

Tomás’s peaceful mood matched her contentment.

She breathed deeply. “How can we return to work after this?”

“We always have your nights dusting.”

“Reading too and writing an epic poem about your grand adventures.”

“Are you glad we became friends?”

Her spirit would have died without him. Even with her newfound freedom, she’d found her future difficult to face. Having nothing to look forward to except toiling endlessly without hope for true happiness, constant worry about losing her position and not finding another, someone discovering who she really was and returning her to a man she loathed.

Tomás had changed everything for her, at least during this brief slice of time. When they finally parted, she’d have to move on alone, though she would be richer for having known him.

She pushed melancholy aside. “Indeed, I am. After being in service to you, I will never look at dusting the same way again.”

He laughed heartily and slapped the water, sending a wave in her direction. She squealed and did the same to him. They played like children, each trying to make the other wet, finally wrestling in the pool, their behavior boisterous and silly. She was no match for his strength. However, she did know how to pinch and twisted the skin on his ribs.

He yelped and pulled back, hands lifted. “I surrender before you draw blood.”

“A wise choice.” She clawed wet hair from her face. “Though I must say, you were an almost worthy opponent.”

Tomás hugged her fiercely. “You have to stop making me laugh so much.”

“Would you like another pinch?”

“A kiss.” He fitted his mouth to hers, his desire surprisingly tender and exploring, seeming to stop time.