Chapter Three
A lexandre watched a host of emotions dart across Raquel’s face—shock, disbelief, and then hesitation. Her eyes which, until then, had been glazed over by lust, suddenly cleared and he could see her mentally debating the next course of action.
Irritation swamped Alexandre, but he didn’t let it show. He wanted Raquel in his bed and would have her—at any cost. And if it meant he had to do some persuading, then he was open to it.
The evening had begun dismally for him because he’d received news of his half-brother’s wedding. He wasn’t upset that the heir to the Monteiro fortune was getting married, no—but the fact that their grandfather had orchestrated the entire thing bothered him. A lot.
Carlos Monteiro, Alexandre’s paternal grandfather, had always taken a keen interest in his older grandson, Leandro, hardly ever paying any attention to Alexandre—the illegitimate grandson whom he merely tolerated.
In the beginning, Alexandre had done everything to please the old man, but then he realized that no matter what he did, Carlos would always find fault with him. Eventually, he stopped trying to please his grandfather and ended up doing things that would publicly embarrass him instead.
To this day, his grandfather couldn’t tolerate his only son’s bastard child, born to a woman who was a singer by profession but moonlighted as an escort.
Alexandre thought maybe, just maybe, Carlos would berate him for humiliating him in public, and tainting the precious family name.
Maybe at least then, his grandfather would have something to say to him, even if it was bad, but that hadn’t happened.
Instead, Carlos had turned his back on him, not even stopping him when he left the family business to start out on his own.
Carlos’s indifference cut like a serrated knife—had left him with a wound that bled perpetually. His grandfather’s rejection of him had brought home the fact that he was, despite all his achievements, not wanted, and definitely, not loved.
The news that Carlos had secured a suitable bride for his half-brother only went on to prove how invested he was in his heir’s future, while he hadn’t even bothered to show up at the hospital when Alexandre lay in coma, after deliberately crashing the Lamborghini which he’d gifted his favorite grandson.
Seeking relief from the crippling pain of rejection, Alexandre had come to the club, intent on drowning his grief in alcohol when Raquel had stumbled into his life.
And as he watched her chew her bottom lip in consternation, he knew he had the antidote to his pain. A night filled with passion in the arms of this sensual woman would cure him of the anguish he experienced. Surely it would be heaven to lie with her?
He leaned down and kissed Raquel again, taking the decision out of her hands.
“Let’s get out of here.”
****
R aquel’s steps faltered when she stepped inside Alexandre’s apartment, shivering as the cold, air-conditioned interior caused goosebumps to break out on her skin.
“Do you want a drink?”
“Water, please.” She didn’t need more alcohol. Of course, she’d had only two glasses of it and a fruity drink, but her defense was already down.
She was giddy at the thought of spending more time with Alexandre, but was apprehensive at the same time.
She didn’t know what possessed her to go home with a man she barely knew.
Hadn’t her mother warned her enough about the sins of the flesh?
Hadn’t she been taught that a woman had to be as virtuous as the Holy Virgin?
Toeing off her shoes, she walked toward the glass doors beyond which was a balcony.
She could see the tops of trees which surrounded the apartment and wished she could peek outside, but she wasn’t in a mood to explore.
Not when her blood buzzed with need and her body burned with desire.
Words of caution swirled around inside her head, warning her to walk away from Alexandre, but she merely pushed them all aside.
Tonight, she wasn’t going to be the staid woman that the real Raquel DaCosta was.
Tonight, she was simply Raquel—the woman who had managed to snag the sexiest man she’d ever laid her eyes upon.
“Here.” A glass appeared in front of her, and Raquel took it, downing the liquid to cure her suddenly dry throat.
Having never had sex before, she didn’t know the etiquette of casual sex. And it was casual sex, she understood, for men like Alexandre—bold and arrogantly sure of themselves—rarely would pick up a random woman from a club for anything more.
Heat raked down her spine when Alexandre removed the glass from her hands.
She trembled as his arms wound around her waist, pulling her back against his hard body.
A gasp escaped her at the bold prod of his shaft against her back, and an answering heat spilled from between her legs.
Without her heels, she felt terribly small and vulnerable against Alexandre, who was over six feet tall.
When one big hand moved up to cup her breast, her heart jumped in her chest.
“So small and soft,” he whispered into her ear, blowing gently over the sensitive area behind her ears.
Raquel was transfixed by her body’s reaction to his touch.
Her breasts swelled and pebbled, and she cried out when he plucked the tip with his fingers.
She felt hot and cold at the same time as sweat trickled down between her breasts.
One hand played with her breast, while the other slowly slid down her thighs to lift the hem of her dress.
She clapped a hand over his exploring one, stopping him temporarily from venturing up her naked thighs, but he distracted her by taking the lobe of her ear into his mouth and sucking it. A moan signaled her surrender, allowing Alexandre to touch and caress her intimately.
He squeezed her breast almost to the point of pain while his other hand crept up her thighs to her soaked panties. She whimpered in protest when his searching fingers slid the gusset aside and touched her wet heat.
Raquel cried out, throwing her head back as one hot finger slid easily into her molten core, sending hot shards of pleasure skittering all over her body. Her brain scrambled as her core clenched around his digit, seeking to pull it further inside.
“You’re soaked, baby.” His lustful words further heightened the flurry of sensations which began to dance over her body. “I want to taste you.”
Before she could even fathom what those words meant, Alexandre swung her up into his arms and carried her to the bedroom.
Warning pealed loudly in her ears. This was going too fast. She had to tell him this was her first time.
She needed him to slow down but the words died on her lips when he slid her down the length of his body before gently pushing her backwards so she fell onto the mattress.
A small lamp by the bed doused them in a mellow yellow light, adding a dream-like quality to the scene unfolding before her.
She stared open-mouthed as Alexandre began to undress, hastily removing his shirt before bending down to remove his jeans and underwear. Her eyes widened at the considerable size of his shaft, which hung heavily from between his legs.
Dear God, she was really going to do this!
Panic blasted her at the thought of him impaling her on his huge shaft but on the heels of that thought, came a fevered elation—and revelation.
She was the reason this gorgeous man was aroused!
It was her this man desired, and the thought filled her with such power that it almost blinded her.
For the first time in her life, Raquel felt beautiful—powerful! The bells of caution clanged loudly in her head even as she reached for him, hypnotized by the beauty of the man who stood before her.
He joined her in bed, his lips immediately capturing hers in a sizzling kiss that made her toes curl. Quick, efficient hands made short work of her clothes and soon she was naked against the heat of his body.
Raquel felt possessed as their kiss deepened, his tongue stabbing hungrily into her mouth, drinking deeply from her. His searching hands were everywhere—on her face, her breasts, her belly and between her legs, teasing her mercilessly, preparing her body for his possession.
Sliding down, he sampled her small breasts, gently biting the hardened brown tips before sucking the soft mounds into his mouth. When he was done pleasuring her breasts, he moved down to settle between her legs.
She cried out when he kissed her intimately, her fingers wrapping around his long hair, keeping his head pressed against her needy flesh, fearful that he would stop without giving her the release that she desperately craved.
She came with a hoarse cry as pleasure crashed over her, shaking violently as the powerful climax ripped through her.
The sound of foil ripping barely penetrated the sexual haze that clouded her mind and Raquel had no warning before Alexandre pushed her thighs further apart and plunged into her.
She gasped at the shock of his penetration, but he was too far gone to notice that she had frozen under him, but only for a second because his fingers were suddenly at the bundle of nerves hidden in her femininity, strumming the nub, pushing her toward yet another climax.
She held onto his shoulders as he thrust harder—faster, his jagged breathing loud and harsh filling her ears as he raced toward his own climax.
When at last he poured into her with a cry and fell limply against her, Raquel wrapped her arms around his sweaty body and promptly fell asleep with a smile on her lips.
****
T he next morning Raquel woke up with a headache. Her eyes squeezed shut as soon as she tried to open them for the light in the room stung them. Her tongue felt heavy in her mouth, and her throat was dry and scratchy. Her belly hurt, and she groaned as she pushed herself on to her elbows.