Chantelle Shaw - Postcards From Rio - Master of Her Innocence / To Play with Fire / A Taste of Desire

He realised she was watching him with a faint uncertainty in her eyes that made him dismiss his thoughts and focus all his attention on her. She’d said she wanted a stud, but her only experience of sex was when he had taken her virginity. What she needed from him was patience and tenderness. It occurred to him that he would enjoy teaching her the many and varied pathways of pleasure that she had never experienced with any other man. Diego frowned. This possessive feeling was a new experience for him and not one that he wanted to think about too deeply.

He threaded his fingers into her hair that felt like silk against his skin and lowered his head to claim her lips in a kiss that started out as gentle. But her eager response stoked the fire inside him so that he thrust his tongue into her mouth in an erotic imitation of thrusting his throbbing arousal into her.

She tugged open his shirt buttons and ran her hands feverishly over his bare chest. He gave a half-laugh, half-groan. ‘How can I make love to you slowly and gently when you are so damned hot?’

Clare curled her arms around his neck and pulled his mouth down to hers, pressing her curvaceous body up against him so that Diego could feel the hard points of her nipples scrape across his chest. ‘I don’t want slow and gentle. I don’t mind if you are rough,’ she whispered against his lips. ‘I just want you now, now.’

‘Deus, you will be the death of me, anjinho.’ He ran her zip down her spine and tugged the gold dress. She wasn’t wearing a bra and her bare breasts spilled into his hands, firm and plump like ripe peaches, and utterly delectable when he kissed the creamy mounds, before he closed his lips around one pouting nipple and then the other.

Her soft moans of delight nearly drove him over the edge, and when she fumbled with the zip on his trousers and her fingers brushed across his arousal he knew he had to take control. He swiftly dragged her dress over her hips so that it slid to the floor, leaving her in just a tiny gold thong and high-heeled strappy gold sandals. Diego knelt and removed her shoes and then scooped her up and deposited her on the bed, but he resisted her attempt to pull him down on top of her.

He stood at the end of the bed and pushed her thighs apart. ‘I’ll explain how this is going to work, querida. I am going to kiss every inch of your body, and I mean everywhere,’ he warned her softly. ‘Now lie back.’

* * *

He could not actually mean everywhere, Clare thought as she stretched out on top of the satin bedspread while Diego knelt above her and lowered his head to capture her mouth in a sensual kiss that added fuel to the flame of her desire. He trailed his lips over her throat and breasts, paying special attention to her nipples until she whimpered with pleasure. ‘Enough,’ she pleaded in a breathy voice she hardly recognised as her own.

‘I’ve barely begun,’ he told her as he moved down her body, kissing her stomach and the tops of her thighs. She trembled and instinctively tried to scissor her legs together, but he firmly held them open so that she was utterly exposed to him apart from a fragile strip of gold silk. He pushed her thong aside, and as Clare felt his silky hair brush against her inner thighs she suddenly realised that he really did intend to kiss every bit of her.

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