Nicola Marsh - Hot Summer Flings

If they got that far it would be a miracle. He was clinging to what control he had with his fingernails. To have her shaking with lust for him was incredible and her wild response had blown him away. All he could think about was burying himself in her.

Megan’s head fell back to look into his lean face. Her eyes were half closed, her cheeks flushed. ‘Bed, please.’

A low growl vibrated in Emilio’s throat as his hold tightened, his arms like steel bands around her ribcage as he bit and nuzzled his way up the exposed curve of her white neck.

Megan went limp in his arms, her eyelashes fluttering like butterfly wings against her flushed cheeks, her toes brushing the ground as Emilio walked blindly across the room to the bedroom door, his lips moving up the curve of her throat.

He reached the door and her lips at the same moment. Keeping his dark eyes trained on her face, his mouth a tantalising whisper from her own, Emilio hefted her higher into his arms as though she weighed nothing, an arm scooping her bottom as he swung her upwards. She shivered, some buried primal instinct in her responding to the raw power revealed in his casual action.

‘KISS me, Megan!’ Emilio rasped, and kicked open the door, the instruction and action blending seamlessly into one.

The door hit the wall behind with a loud crash, the vibration of the impact rippling around the apartment as Megan, her eyes glowing, grabbed his face between her hands and pressed her warm lips to his.

Her enthusiasm drew a growl of approval from his throat, then as she slid her tongue experimentally into his mouth, tentatively and then with more confidence, she felt a shudder run through his lean body.

She stopped kissing him long enough to moan, ‘God, you taste so good.’

Emilio’s eyes darkened dramatically. ‘Madre de Dios!’

‘Is something wrong?’ she asked anxiously. He looked like someone in pain.

‘Wrong?’ he echoed. He looked at her, his brilliant eyes fierce but tender, the muscles in his brown throat visibly working as he swallowed, struggling to control the primal hunger pounding through his body. ‘No, things are very right. You wish to taste me, you shall,’ he told her thickly. ‘But not until I have sampled every inch of your delicious body.’

The throaty promise planted a mental image in Megan’s head that made her skin prickle.

His long-legged stride brought them to the bed in seconds. Megan’s eyes were closed and her arms still fastened around his neck as he lowered her onto the bed.

As she sank into the mattress Megan opened her eyes.

Emilio curved over her, motionless; his breath came harder as he looked down at her. ‘You’re beautiful,’ Emilio slurred, his voice thick with desire. ‘I’ve never in my life needed anything as much as I need you.’

The husky confession sent a thrill through Megan’s tense, aching body. She waited, her heart beating frantically in anticipation as she stared into his glowing midnight-dark eyes.

She wanted his touch, she ached for his kisses, she wanted him with a fierce urgency that scared her. For a second she wanted to retreat from it, push him away, but she made herself accept it, embrace it.

In that moment her last doubts vanished in a blaze of certainty.

This was what she wanted. The rightness of it made no sense, but that didn’t matter. Unable to communicate the ache of inarticulate yearning that brought the threat of tears to her eyes, Megan raised her arms, stretching her finger towards him in a silent plea.

The gesture cut through Emilio’s last shred of control. A growl locked in his throat, his face set in a strained mask of primal need. He caught her hands, raised them to his lips and pressed his lips to each palm in turn before he sat down on the edge of the bed.

Retaining her hands in his, he placed them against his chest.

Megan could feel the heat of his body through his shirt. With a soft cry she pulled herself into a sitting position and began to fumble with the buttons on his shirt with frenzied urgency. Her hands were shaking so much that the simple task was beyond her.

‘Let me.’

A hand in the middle of her chest sent Megan back against the pillows.

Megan watched through half-closed eyes, her throat dry and aching as he slipped the buttons of his shirt, his actions tantalisingly slow.

The fabric parted to reveal his taut muscled torso, his broad, well-developed chest and flat, muscle-ridged belly. His skin gleamed like beaten copper.

Megan gasped. ‘Oh, God!’ and ran her tongue across the surface of her dry lips.

There was predatory confidence in his smile as he fought his way out of his shirt and flung it across the room.

Megan couldn’t take her eyes off him. His skin glowed and he didn’t carry an ounce of surplus flesh on his sleek, muscular body.

He almost casually pinioned her hands either side of her head before settling his long, lean length down beside her. There was nothing casual about the searing heat of his stare as ran his tongue up the exposed curve of her neck.

‘You taste good.’

He lowered his head towards her, but at the last second stopped just short of her mouth and looked deep into her eyes, part of him wanting to prolong the moment he had waited for.

‘Please kiss me, Emilio.’

The husky plea snapped the last thread of his shredded control. A deep groan emerged from his lips as he sealed his mouth to hers, pressing her limp body deep into the mattress with the force of his kiss.

Megan gave a soft moan of yearning as her lips parted under the hungry, demanding pressure. The sound was lost in his mouth as his tongue stabbed deep, the erotic incursions drawing a series of mewling sounds of pleasure from her throat.

‘This is crazy.’

He trailed a series of moist, open-mouthed kisses down her throat. ‘You want me and I want you. Is that crazy? ‘

‘Yes, it is, but I think I like crazy.’

He levered himself up a little to allow himself easier access to the buttons on her blouse. He started at the bottom and worked his way upwards, holding her eyes, watching her gasp as each one gave way.

Megan squeezed her eyes closed and held her breath as he peeled the fabric aside. At the sound of his rasping intake of breath, her eyes shot open.

He was staring transfixed at her body; desire burned in his eyes like twin flames. ‘Por Dios, but you are lovely,’ he breathed, his expression almost reverent as his glance licked down her pale body.

She glowed. Her skin was as pale as alabaster, not cold, but warm. Megan was warm. Emilio wanted to bury himself in her warmth, feel it close tight around him.

Megan shivered, the earthy appreciation in his deep voice sending an erotic thrill through her body. She shivered again and bit her lip, oblivious to the pain as he traced a line with his finger down the middle of her stomach before laying his big hand across the curve of her stomach.

Then, holding her eyes, he unclipped the front catch on her bra.

His eyes left her then, and she heard the breath leave his lungs in a long, sibilant hiss. His eyes glittered with passion as he curved his shaking hand around one soft, pink-tipped mound, drawing an earthy moan from her throat as he rubbed his thumb across the engorged peak before taking it into his mouth. All the time his fingers were stroking her delicate skin with erotic skill that made her burn up inside with the nameless need that gripped her.

She writhed in a sweet torment, her response to his skilful caresses uncoordinated, the words that slipped from her lips unintelligible in the hot haze of passion.

One hand stayed curved possessively around her breast as he lifted his head and looked deep into her passionglazed tawny eyes before he bent his head, his tongue dipping inside the parted pink sweetness between her lips, drawing a series of weak cries of pleasure from Megan.