Nicola Marsh - Hot Summer Flings

He slid a hand around her back, drawing her up off the bed while he freed the blouse and bra from her shaking body. One arm wrapped around her narrow ribcage, the other pressed behind her head, he lay down, drawing her down beside him.

The first skin-to-skin contact was shocking, then, after the shock faded, addictive. Megan’s mind emptied, she stopped thinking, acting on the dormant instincts that surfaced as she pressed her breasts against the hard barrier of his hair-roughened chest.

Emilio continued to kiss her, one deep drowning kiss blending into the next.

When he eventually drew back the naked desire shining in his dark eyes sent a fresh pulse of desire slamming through her body.

‘Hold that thought,’ he said thickly as he rolled on his back. Megan’s instinctive protest stilled as she watched him unfasten his belt, lifting his narrow hips off the bed to slide them down his thighs, then kick them away.

His boxers received the same treatment.

Megan felt the hot colour score her cheeks; he was aroused and he was magnificent! Heat pulsed, spreading from her core through her body, and the dragging, heavy sensation low in her pelvis became a physical pain. She couldn’t take her eyes off him.

Emilio saw her staring and didn’t seem to mind. In fact on physical evidence her unconcealed awe appeared to arouse him further—something she would have imagined was impossible!

He swung his legs around the side of the bed, his movements as graceful and sinuous as a big cat, each action emphasising the controlled strength and power of his body. She wondered at his complete lack of self-consciousness, her covetous gaze following his progress around to her side of the bed.

By the time he stood over her she was so aroused by the erotic image he presented that breathing was a struggle. Each laboured inhalation she drew made her full breasts quiver.

Without a word he bent down, one knee braced on the bed, and slipped a hand under the waistband of her skirt. The contact of his fingers on her burning skin sent a shiver along her sensitised nerve endings.

She closed her eyes as he slid her skirt down her thighs, then closed them tighter still as he removed her tiny briefs.

‘Look at me, Megan.’

Megan prised her heavy lids open and gazed up at him, mute with helpless longing.

Raw need burning in his eyes, Emilio took her fingers and curled them around his erection. ‘This is how much I want you,’ he slurred.

It was, Megan thought, quite a lot!

She stroked him, her fingers tightened around his throbbing length. Emilio closed his eyes and groaned before gritting his teeth and removing her clever fingers forcibly before he ran his own fingers along the silky curve of her inner thigh, smiling with primitive satisfaction to hear her gasp, then moan as he parted her legs, opening her to him.

He kneeled over her. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, ravishing. The need inside him was pounding in his head, wiping every thought but the need to possess her from his mind.

His entire being was focused on one thing—making her his, binding her to him.

As he kneeled between her legs he was unable to resist the lure of her quivering swollen lips. He kissed her lips hard, then the curve of her belly, before his smoky dark eyes meshed with her slumberous golden gaze.

He reached between her legs, her body arched in response to the intimate touch, the slick heat he discovered there, the knowledge that she was ready for him, and then finally her husky plea of, ‘Please, Emilio,’ broke his control.

His face contorted in a fierce mask of driving need, he settled between her legs, his body curved over her.

Megan felt the push against her silken barrier and tensed at the exact moment he slid into her. The cry of shock and pain was wrenched from her throat.

Above her he froze. He had felt the resistance at the last moment and understood what it meant, but it had been too late to pull back.

‘Relax,’ he soothed, kissing her neck.

‘I’m … You’re …’ A long sigh left her throat as her tense muscle unclenched and began to expand to accommodate him. The sensation was incredible and as he began to move very slowly the fibres inside her responded to the friction, sending hot fingers of sensation rippling through her entire body.

‘Oh, yes!’ she sighed, grabbing his shoulder for support as she relaxed into the rhythm as he sank deeper into her.

Sweat slicked Emilio’s body as he fought with every fibre of his being to control his thrusts, though in that final moment when he felt the deep contractions of her climax build he let go and slammed into her, feeling his explosive release and a moment later the guilt.

FINALLY Emilio rolled off her. Megan missed the weight of him pressing her into the mattress. Without the heat of his body the air-conditioned air felt cool on her hot, sweat-slick skin.

Megan, her breathing still all over the place, turned her head on the pillow. Emilio lay beside her on his back, one arm curved above his head. His eyes were closed and he was breathing deeply; his chest rose and fell in sync with each shallow breath. Megan rested her cheek in the crook of her arm, her expression rapt as she followed the play of muscles sliding below the golden glistening surface.

Everything about him fascinated her.

She reached out a hand to touch his skin and drew back. So far he hadn’t said a word. Was that normal? Should she be bothered by his silence?

How crazy was this? Minutes earlier they had been intimate in a way that should have shocked her but hadn’t; now she was scared of touching him in case it was the wrong thing.

Megan chewed her lower lip fretfully as the doubts crowded in. Had he fallen asleep?

Perhaps he would expect to find her dressed or even gone when he woke up? The instincts that had kicked in earlier had definitely switched off.

It was ironic—when she might have expected to feel some uncertainty there had been none, except for that brief moment when she was sure that they were simply not compatible in a purely dimensional sense—she had been very pleased to be proved wrong.

Beautifully wrong!

She might no longer be a virtuous virgin, but she still had no clue how a person was meant to behave post-lovemaking.

She glanced around the unfamiliar bedroom with the vast bed and modern art on the walls almost guiltily, as though she were a voyeur intruding on a scene in someone else’s life.

But this wasn’t happening to someone else, it was happening to her. Had happened.

No wonder it seemed surreal. I spent the morning in bed with Emilio Rios —now how weird did that sound? Actually, not so weird at all. A person, it seemed, could adapt awfully quickly to some things.

But she couldn’t allow herself to lose sight of the fact that for Emilio this was just sex. While in one sense his pragmatic approach to his physical needs and appetites shocked Megan, in another way she did kind of admire his painful honesty.

It would never be possible for her to match his honesty, she thought, refusing to acknowledge the lonely ache in her heart—time enough for that later. To him she was a one-night or any rate one-morning stand, so wanting more was a stupid waste of time.

She had always wanted more from him. God, it really did stink when your first crush turned out to be your last!

She had always been his for the taking; he just hadn’t felt the urge to reach before today. Megan blinked away the hot tears burning behind her eyes and gave a fierce frown as she told herself that for once in her life she would not think about tomorrow.

Her eyes made a covetous sweep of his body. A natural athlete’s body, long and lean, it was a sculpted, breathing miracle of taut muscles, hard bone and glistening, satiny bronzed skin. A tiny sigh of appreciation left her lips; he really was beautiful!