Chantelle Shaw - Ruthless Revenge - Passionate Possession - A Virgin for Vasquez / A Marriage Fit for a Sinner / Mistress of His Revenge

Now she was wriggling out of the shorts, leaving just a pair of lacy briefs that matched her bra. Her breasts were full and firm and he could see the dark circle of her nipples through the lace.

‘That I don’t have...’ He breathed unsteadily. ‘Your breasts are driving me crazy, Sophie...’ He bent to circle one nipple through the lacy bra with his mouth and she gasped and arched into his questing mouth.

They hadn’t even got this far first time round. She had been as prim and as chaste as a Victorian maiden and he had held off, curbing his natural instinct to swoop and conquer. He closed his mind off to the reasons why she had been so damned prim and chaste because the only thing that mattered now was the taste of her.

He didn’t unhook the bra. Instead, he pushed it over her breasts and, for a few unbelievably erotic seconds, he just stared. The big, circular discs of her nipples pouted at him. Her breasts were smooth, creamy and soft. He was a teenager again, with a teenager’s crazy, wildly out-of-control hormones, trying hard not to come prematurely.

He almost wanted to laugh in disbelief at the extraordinary reaction of his normally well-behaved body.

He licked the stiffened bud of one nipple and then lost himself in something he had dreamed of, suckling and drawing her nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the tip and just loving her responsive body underneath him.

Without breaking the devastating caress, he slid his hand under the small of her back so that she was arched up, writhing and squirming as he moved from nipple to the soft underside of her breast, nuzzling and tasting.

Driving himself mad.

He had to hold off for a few seconds to catch his breath; he had to grit his teeth and summon up all his willpower to withstand the urge of her hand as she reached up, blindly curving the contour of his cheek, desperate for him to resume what he had been doing.

Without his usual finesse, he clumsily ripped the remainder of her clothes off.

How long had he been waiting for this moment? It felt like for ever as he gazed down at her rosy, flushed body, his breathing laboured as if he had just completed a marathon.

She was perfect.

Her skin was silky smooth, her breasts pert, inviting all sorts of wicked thoughts, and as his eyes drifted lower...

The soft, downy hair between her legs elicited a groan that sounded decidedly helpless.

So this was what it felt like...

This heady sense of power as she watched him watching her and losing control.

By the time she had married Roger, she had known the full scale of the mistake she had made, but she had still been young and naïve enough fundamentally to trust that the lectures from her parents about the follies of youth and the transitory nature of her attraction to the wrong man were somehow rooted in truth. She hadn’t, back then, been sure enough of herself to resist the wisdom of the two people she trusted and loved.

Surely time would make her see sense and make her forget Javier and the new, wonderful feelings he had roused in her?

It wasn’t as though she didn’t like Roger, after all...

But it hadn’t turned out that way. Neither of them had been able to find a way through all the muddy water under the bridge and she had discovered fast enough how easy it was for loathing to set in, forging a destructive path through affection and friendship.

She hadn’t turned him on and he, certainly, had never, ever had the sort of effect on her that Javier was now having.

It was suddenly very, very important that they do this. Would he walk away if he knew that she was a virgin? Was he hoping for someone experienced, as he doubtless assumed she was, who could perform all sorts of exciting gymnastics in bed?

In her head, she balanced the scales.

Alarm and disappointment with her if he found out that he was dealing with someone who might not live up to expectation...versus her embarrassment at having to come clean and tell him the truth about the marriage into which she should never have entered...

Which in turn would lead her down all sorts of uncertain routes. Because how else could she explain away her mistake without letting him know just how much she had felt for him all those years ago, how deeply she had fallen in love with him?

And, in turn, would that lead him to start thinking that she might just go and do the same again, after he had issued his warnings and told her that this was just sex and nothing more—no romance, no courtship and certainly no repeat performance of what they had once had?

‘I’ve never done this before.’ She couldn’t face the embarrassment of him pulling away, appalled that he had mistaken her for someone else, someone who might prove to be fun in bed instead of a novice waiting to be taught, guided only by instinct.

It took a few seconds for Javier to register what she had just said and he paid attention to her words only because of the tone in which they had been spoken.

He was still confused, though, as he pulled back to stare down at her.

‘You mean you’ve never had a one-night stand with an ex-flame?’

‘No.’ Face flaming with embarrassment, she wriggled into a sitting position and drew the duvet cover protectively over her, suddenly shy in the face of his probing dark eyes.

‘What, then?’ He had never talked so much in bed with any woman. Frustrated, he raked his fingers through his hair and sighed. ‘Do I need to get dressed to sit this one out?’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘What I’m asking is...is this going to be a long conversation involving more confidence sharing? Should I make myself a pot of tea and settle down for the long haul?’

‘Why do you have to be so sarcastic?’ Sophie asked, stung.

‘Because,’ Javier pointed out coolly, ‘this should be a simple situation, Sophie. Once upon a time, there was something between us. Now there isn’t—aside, that is, from the small technicality that we never actually made it past the bedroom door. Indeed, we never made it even near the bedroom door. So here we are, rectifying that oversight before going our separate ways. I’m not sure that there’s anything much to talk about because it’s not one of those getting to know you exercises.’

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