CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SIX
T HERE WAS A long inhalation, as if he was drawing her response directly into his soul. Then he leaned closer still. ‘Again. And turn around and look at me this time, querida .’
The moment she did, he set his empty wineglass on the railing and braced his free hand on the other side of her, caging her in. Eyes the colour of the churning waters drilled into hers, then dropped to her mouth, willing her to repeat her words.
She licked her tingling lips, inhaling sharply when he groaned under his breath. The moment his eyes shot up to reconnect with hers, she repeated, ‘Yes. I’ll stay.’
‘And?’
And as insane as this situation is... I want you. Badly.
She wisely kept those power-yielding words to herself. ‘And whatever happens, happens. On terms we both agree. Including how long I stay.’
His eyes narrowed a fraction, digging behind those words for leverage, perhaps? She met his gaze boldly, even while her heart hammered.
‘You will not rule me. Accept that.’
She snorted. ‘As if.’
Faint amusement flashed in his eyes before gravity returned. ‘But the same cannot be said for me. I crave control.’
His honesty snatched her breath. ‘Thanks for telling me, but that doesn’t mean I won’t fight it when I need to. I’m no pushover.’
Another flash, this one of approval, lit up her insides. He relished that. Was perhaps even weighing how to test that control.
‘Our time together will be interesting, if nothing else.’ His gaze dropped to her mouth again, setting it tingling wildly all over again. He stepped back, gesturing towards the steps leading below deck. ‘Come.’ The command was thick and terse.
‘Where are we going?’
‘To show you your new sleeping quarters.’
‘I can find it on my own, I’m sure.’
One eyebrow arched. ‘Is that an objection or are you regretting that you may have bitten off more than you can chew?’
‘It’s neither.’ Rather a stalling tactic because the need rampaging through her was frankly overwhelming. ‘Just a fact,’ she blurted out when he simply waited her out in silence.
A hint of amusement flashed again. ‘Consider it a vested interest in ensuring you don’t fall off a balcony or pass out somewhere until tomorrow at the very least.’
The urge to laugh with him, even at her own expense, struck again. And again, he seemed to remember himself, to kill his amusement a second later. Even look a touch bewildered by the display of humour.
That small defusing of tension drew her away from the railing. She joined him as he strode across the deck to the lift. He gestured her in, then followed. The space built for small groups immediately felt even smaller, Jario’s masculine scent overwhelming her.
He in turn took another long breath, and recalling what he’d said about her scent, Willow angled her head to meet his blazing gaze.
Neither of them said a word as the lift reached the designated floor— his .
He caught her elbow to steer her right, towards his private suite. The roar in her ears almost drowned out the swarming butterflies in her belly.
She believed she’d settled her decision in her own mind but now the reality was rushing at her, she desperately needed a minute. To remind herself that Jario wasn’t David. That—
She froze when Jario stopped halfway down the long hallway and nudged open a guest suite door.
Confusion battered her as she looked into the exquisitely decorated room. Unlike Jario’s, it was softer, blending pastels with modern luxurious wood furniture, paintings and exquisite mouldings that wouldn’t have been amiss in any bricks-and-mortar mega-mansion.
Through an open doorway across the room, she saw her meagre belongings, neatly folded on backlit shelves. She glanced back at him. His heated gaze swung from her face to the bed behind her.
His nostrils flared as he took a breath. ‘Is it satisfactory?’
‘More than,’ she muttered, still battling confused disappointment. ‘Thanks.’
He didn’t respond.
Feeling supremely self-conscious, wanting more than anything to fling herself at him, Willow forced herself back one step. Then another.
Jario slowly raised his hands to the top of the door and braced his hands right there, sculpted biceps tensing as he gripped the solid wood. Fascinated, she stared at the riveting image he made, the stunning realisation that he was fighting the urge to step inside her room.
Because he wanted an explicit invitation?
Because unlike her father, his integrity and principles were unshakeable? It would’ve been easy for a man like him to take the seduction route, to use her clear attraction to him to his advantage, like David had, and especially considering who and what she represented.
The fact that he wasn’t sent waves of respect and, yes, gratitude , sweeping through her. Making her attraction surge several notches higher. Making her stop, stare at him, words crowding her tongue.
Jario’s fierce stare almost dared her to.
Only by sheer willpower and the last residues of common sense did she resist. ‘Good night, then.’
She caught a flash of respect, jarring with his quickly curbed disappointment. After an age, his hands released the jamb, his exhale long and slow. He nodded curtly, turned on his heel and left.
Deflating, she shut the door and leaned back against it.
Faintly resenting him for mastering his control, she looked around.
Her beautiful bed looked lonely. And she cursed herself one more time as she undressed and crawled between the cold sheets.
She wanted to blame the motion of the vessel for her tossing and turning, but her inner voice mocked her excuse. The only reason for her restlessness was the absence of Jario Tagarro in her bed.
And as the seconds slowly ticked away, she admitted that the suffering she’d glimpsed on his face also unsettled her, that whatever was going on beneath his facade had somehow gained greater importance for her.
For now.
She gritted her teeth, wishing for one selfish moment she could push her emotions down deep where they wouldn’t affect her. But for good or ill, they swelled, ever persistent.
And as ever, the image of her mother walking away, of staying away, because Willow hadn’t quite been enough, replayed in her head.
With a frustrated grunt, Willow tossed back the sheets and slid out of bed. It was pitch-black outside her window, sunrise nowhere in sight. But she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep.
Almost on automatic, she padded to the door, a compulsion she couldn’t deny pushing her forward. Just like it had last night when she’d ended up in the steam room, Willow wandered into the recreational area, her heart and breath and skin rousing with an innate awareness that she wasn’t the only one awake and restless.
She found him in the axe room, just like on her first night here.
Clearly, he’d been at it for a while because his back glistened with sweat and his damp hair clung to his neck.
‘Are you coming in or leaving?’ He didn’t turn around.
‘That depends.’
‘On?’
‘Is what you’re doing helping with whatever’s bothering you?’
He stiffened, then shot her a warning look over his shoulder. ‘You’ve picked the wrong time to amateur psychoanalyse me.’
‘Is there a right time?’
His eyes flared with surprise at her snapback.
Then he sauntered towards her, axe in hand. Something about watching him wielding such a dangerous tool sent primal heat swirling through her. Willow was nowhere near willing to examine why the man staring at her with hooded eyes crackling with coiled energy excited her this much.
They surged towards one another a second after he tossed the tool aside, diving into a fevered feast of kissing that seared her soul.
‘I want you in my bed,’ he muttered against her mouth after ending the kiss. ‘Against my every better judgement, I want to possess you, to be inside you so badly I can’t think straight.’
Against...better judgement.
The words, far too reminiscent of David’s, stopped her cold. Raising her hand, she pushed back from him, breaking the kiss with a decadent noise that further compounded her confusing feelings. ‘Then you should stop. After all, only one of us deserves to burn in hell, right?’
His control gathering was mesmeric to watch. For long moments he stared at her, then he shook his head, a touch of self-deprecation in the motion. ‘Indeed.’ One hand rose, traced down her flushed cheek. ‘If only you didn’t look like a damned delicious angel while doing so.’
Spikes of distress and unease stopped her insides from melting this time. Propelled her to take several steps back.
Made her turn and walk away.
But not before she saw surprise flare in his eyes at her retreat.
‘Where are you going, tesoro ?’ he called after her. Faint amusement laced his tone but there was something else. Hunger .
Looking over her shoulder, she saw blazing eyes rushing over her body, unwavering in its intensity, making her acutely aware of every exposed inch, and even those parts that were covered but wanting.
It stirred up her roiling feelings, making her swallow before she could speak. ‘Anywhere but here. You can return to your axe throwing.’
One corner of his mouth kicked up in fleeting amusement, which thrilled her far more than it should’ve. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Positive,’ she snapped.
She shouldn’t... couldn’t care about the shadows lurking in his eyes. The fissures of pain, bitterness and torment fighting for supremacy that made her heart lurch, made her want to reach out, soothe him until they dissipated.
She shouldn’t want to pour herself into the cracks of his pain, hold him together if even for a short time.
Make him hurt...less.
She had her own emotional baggage to be dealing with.
She was thankful for the strength in her legs as she hurried away, for the willpower to keep walking away as she wandered through the semi-dark stateroom. Her destination wasn’t exactly clear but, in this moment, anything was better than remaining in Jario’s unnerving presence.
Really? Anything?
The softly voiced challenge drew a shiver, a tiny self-preserving voice demanding to know why she wasn’t retreating to the safety of the bedroom he’d visibly restrained himself from entering.
Was it because there was something decadent and deliciously illicit about their small-hours meetings? Something she would miss when she left?
She lost half a breath when a hollow opened up inside her at the thought. Yet another thing she pushed away.
On bare feet, she headed for the large salon she’d seen but not yet visited.
As with most areas on the yacht, automatic lights came on when she entered, but special spotlights were trained on the Wilh. Steinberg concert grand piano with gold-plated casters, hinges and feet, set on its own platform at the far right corner of the room. It was stunning and imposing enough to forget her roiling emotions for a moment.
Approaching, she perched on the dark purple velvet-covered bench, stingingly aware of the soft material brushing her bare thighs. Despite the mildly intimidating awareness that the superior piano she was about to play cost more than she’d earn in three years, the ivory and ebony keys gleaming invitingly settled her nerves. She’d been playing the same set of keys since she was seven years old.
And right now, she yearned for the soul soothing that music always provided.
Without conscious thought, she struck the first key, then smiled.
Chopin’s Nocturnes was a little predictable perhaps, but she’d played it enough times that it came to her fingers easily enough. She fell into the soft notes with shuddering, almost tear-jerking relief, then transitioned into Giazotto’s ‘Adagio in G Minor,’ followed by a few more of her favourites.
It was as she was ending Peter J. Malmsjo’s ‘Soft Caress’ that she realised Jario was leaning in the doorway.
‘You’re very talented,’ he observed softly.
She shrugged, furiously fighting against warmth pushing at her emotional firewalls.
‘May I come in?’
‘It’s your yacht. Stay. Go. Wouldn’t want you to do anything against your better judgement.’ She grimaced at the bitterness she couldn’t quite hide.
‘Ave Maria.’ That always lifted her spirits.
She launched into it as he made his decision, crossing the room to the liquor cabinet. His favourite cognac in hand, he reclined on the sofa, his stare even more brooding.
When the last haunting strains echoed, he rose again. She didn’t see what he’d done until he walked over and held out the spritzer. ‘Nightcap?’
She took shallow, careful breaths so she wouldn’t greedily inhale his intoxicating scent. ‘Peace offering or trying to get me drunk?’
A glint lit his eyes. ‘I struck a nerve before.’
Her heart lurched. ‘You think?’ she replied, playing for time, searching his gaze to see if he knew the true depths of her unsettled emotions.
He raised the glass higher. She took it, her belly flip-flopping when his warm fingers brushed hers.
‘Tell me.’ His voice rumbled over her, and maybe it was because the music had done its job? She sipped her drink, set it down.
Returning her gaze to the piano, she found herself speaking.
‘There’s no subterfuge in music. It doesn’t pretend to be one thing and deliver another. I’m not afraid to let it in because I know it won’t hurt me. Not like...’
‘Your father?’
She nodded. ‘As you’ve probably guessed, he hasn’t been prolific with the truth. Just like with my mother.’ She pursed her lips. ‘And my ex.’
‘I know what your mother did. But what did he do, this ex?’ he asked, an edge in his voice.
Her shrug weighed heavily with bitter recollection. ‘He worked at the company for a while as some hotshot marketing guru. He had big plans. Was forever trying to get my father to take bold risks. And... I know I should’ve trusted my instincts when I suspected he was using me to further his career, but I didn’t. Not for six months while he told me my suspicions were all in my head.’
Jario’s eyes narrowed lethally. ‘I trust that you didn’t tolerate such a thing for long?’
Her short laughter scraped her throat. ‘Well, I guess finding him in bed with his ex and being told that, too, was my fault finally did the trick.’
He cursed under his breath. ‘Tell me his name.’
Willow started at the feral tinge to his tone. Cursed the curl of warmth at his rage on her behalf. She really needed to stop melting every time he displayed his unique brand of care. She was in danger of growing addicted to it. She forced herself to wave him away. ‘It’s fine. He was the one person I took pleasure in letting go on Dad’s behalf when the company started failing...’ Her words drifted away at the reminder of who was responsible for that failing.
‘And what I said about better judgement rankled?’
She nodded. ‘He used to say things like that to me all the time. Like he was trying to find his better human self and I was holding him back from it.’
‘You’re aware that’s the knee-jerk position of a loser, sí ?’
His vehemence flared heat to her cheeks that she prayed he wouldn’t notice as she shrugged and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
After a beat he continued. ‘So you sought solace in music?’
She inhaled a calming breath. ‘Yes, music has always been special to me.’
‘You mentioned you also play the violin. How long have you been playing both?’
She glanced up and was relieved to see the shadows recede a fraction, intrigue replacing them.
He sauntered over and sprawled his towering frame on the sofa again, one hand cradling his cognac on his knee while his other arm lay along the back of the seat. Lights gleamed lovingly over his naked torso, sending further shafts of heated desire between her legs.
She dragged her gaze from the sexy sight he made and approached the piano, half wishing it was positioned so she wouldn’t have to see him from the corner of her eye.
‘Since I was seven. My goal was to join a symphony.’
‘A dream you’re on the cusp of achieving.’
She nodded, the pangs of her decision pricking her. ‘Yes.’
‘But?’ She felt his gaze intensify on her.
She shrugged. ‘It didn’t come without its challenges.’ In the form of her walking away from her father.
Jario’s expression dimmed, but not out of anger. It was more of a sombre reflection of her words. Or perhaps how his own life had changed because of the past directly involving their fathers?
He watched her with hooded eyes, slowly lifting his glass to take a sip. Then he lowered it to rest on top of his six-pack and nodded at the piano. ‘I’d love some more,’ he said, his voice a little gruff.
Foolish pleasure heating up her insides, she turned back to the keys. Played a little Elgar. Lyadov.
At the end of another arrangement, she glanced over, her breath catching when she saw his eyes were shut, his glass set down next to him.
Jario was asleep.
She didn’t stop playing, smiling to herself a little when she played Puccini’s ‘O Mio Bambino Caro.’ Jario’s response to the childish lullaby probably would’ve been acerbic, but Willow, her heart tugging with emotion she didn’t want to examine, hoped the boy inside the grown man would find a little elusive peace in sleep.
You’re aware that’s the knee-jerk position of a loser, sí ?
Those words reverberated through her, soothing her right along with the music until, her fingers starting to cramp, she played the last tune.
Then tiptoeing over to him, she plucked a cashmere throw from the stack nearby and draped it over him. He stirred, and she froze until he settled again, his head lolling to the side.
Releasing her breath, she contemplated her next move. Leave him to sleep or stay with this man who disrupted her emotions with one hand then soothed her with another? Who compelled her like no other.
She knew which was the saner, safer option, but her feet refused to move. Almost on automatic, she fetched another throw, chose the lounge seat farthest from him and stretched out.
His demons rose, jibing and howling, making him twitch in his sleep. Curiously, though, where previously they’d flooded every inch of his memory and churned fresh nightmares, this time they remained at a distance, as if caged in and staved off by the warmth surrounding him.
Warmth that filled his starving lungs with hints of lemongrass and his arms with a supple, welcome weight.
A soft sigh escaped the bundle in his arms.
Right before reality pierced through the warm fog.
Jario’s eyes cracked open and immediately fell on the piano, minus its enthralling pianist. A glance down showed where she’d relocated, the encroaching dawn through the wide windows proving how long he’d been asleep.
Dios mio , she’d done it again.
He couldn’t decide whether to be annoyed with her effortless power over his previously unbeatable insomnia or be grateful. As for how she’d curled so trustingly into his arms, his deep pleasure at having her there...
He tensed as she stirred, his arms tightening of their own volition.
Dios.
He should be doing the opposite, should be—
‘Good morning.’ Beautiful, sleep-sexy eyes drifted from his face to the view and back again. ‘You slept.’
The pleased lilt in her voice, as if his peaceful sleep meant something to her, struck alien discord within him. When was the last time anyone had cared how he’d slept? Whether he was well or not? Not since before his father died, and his mother—
His teeth clenched against unearthing that memory. ‘You believe you’re the cure for my insomnia?’
She shrugged, and where others would’ve been wary at his gruff tone, she replied, ‘That’s twice now you’ve fallen asleep with me. So I’m either magic or I bore you so hard it puts you right to sleep.’
It was technically three, but he didn’t feel like offering that risky admission. Just as he didn’t feel like admitting that he’d found himself admiring her last night for finding a way through her own battles with her music.
While he threw ineffectual axes.
‘What else can you cure?’
Another shrug bared a few more inches of her silky skin, and his groin stirred harder. ‘Tell me what else ails you and we’ll see.’
The need to expose his dark shadows struck for several heartbeats, eager to bask in her illusionary light, but he ruthlessly doused the urge. So she’d succeeded in somehow granting him more hours of sleep in the past few days than he’d known in years. She was just a novelty that would lose its sparkle soon enough.
He let his eyes rake her face, unable to throttle back the hunger clawing through him as they settled on her pink sensual lips, sending untamed need surging through him.
Jario saw the moment she recognised it, luxuriated in the reciprocal hunger of her sharply drawn breath, the budding of her nipples beneath the soft satin of her nightie. In the flush climbing into her cheeks, and the splayed hands slowly drifting up his chest.
When she licked her maddeningly beautiful mouth, gave a catchy little moan and restlessly undulated her hips, Jario cursed under his breath and gave up the fight.
Flipping their positions, he laid her flat on the sofa.
Gleaming brown eyes widened with that flash of innocence but she didn’t protest when he nudged her slim thighs open and made space for himself exactly where his body yearned to be. One hand moved up to her caramel-blond hair that was spread out in luxurious temptation, raking his fingers through before clenching a handful, while the other grabbed her hip, then rolled his savage erection on that covered heaven between her thighs.
Her choppy moan was sweet music to his ears, almost matching the sublime pleasure...the peace she’d evoked on his piano last night.
Leaning over her, he brushed his mouth whisper-soft over hers, stretching out the moment when he tasted her while knowing nothing short of an apocalyptic event would move him.
‘I’m sure you can feel for yourself exactly what ails me, cara .’
Her eyes fluttered before she forced them open, meeting his with a naked sultriness that made his heart gallop harder.
‘So you need me? To make it better?’ she teased, a satisfying fever raging in her eyes that tore through him.
The breathless baiting released another surge of sensation. Unnerving because it skated far too close to the truth. Albeit a temporary truth. Because Jario Tagarro didn’t need anything or anyone . Right?
He’d learned through torment and hardship that the only person he could rely on, could ever need , was himself.
‘Want, hermosa . Maddening.’ Another brush of his mouth over hers. ‘Unstoppable.’ The faintest taste of her lower lip drew another moan. ‘Beguiling.’ He drifted over to the sensitive area beneath her ear, grazed his teeth over it and was rewarded with a delightful whimper before he caught her lobe between his teeth. ‘But still only just...want.’
Fingers that had drifted to his shoulders dug in, dragging a hiss from his throat.
‘Still against your better judgement?’ The careful undercurrent warned him that his answer mattered. That however intoxicating the chemistry, she possessed the admirable willpower to deny him.
And...did it even matter anymore what his judgement dictated? He wanted her, badly. She wanted him almost as much. Perhaps it needed to be as simple as that. He’d proposed a ceasefire. The crucial mandate of vengeance could be delayed for a while...longer.
‘My every instinct dictates that I possess you, carina . And that is what I intend to do.’ He revisited that place beneath her ear, his hand moving up to cup one luscious breast as he rolled his steel erection between her thighs. ‘Object. Or agree. Now.’
It was hell itself to pry himself away from her silken flesh. To exercise the last crumb of self-restraint and fast-dwindling patience.
She tortured him by dragging out her response. But Jario couldn’t bring himself to fault her for it. He hadn’t been this turned on in a long time. Hadn’t felt this alarming tightening in his chest that mocked this mere want he’d professed. With every woman recently, his pursuit had ended with a heavy dose of ennui that’d made the process lukewarm at best.
This... she was different.
He couldn’t entirely dismiss that there was an edge associated with who she was. But she was also her own woman, with her own fears and battles, enthralling and challenging, with talents that had repeatedly taken his breath away. So he could only watch, captivated beyond reason, as her shapely legs dragged up his thighs to wrap around his waist; as her eyes locked on his, her chest rising and falling in hypnotic rhythm that threatened to drive him insane.
As she whispered, ‘Agree.’
He was devouring the consent from her lips before she’d finished saying the word, tasting the impending feast straight from the source.
Urgent fingers spiked into his hair, dragging against his scalp in pain-edged enthusiasm that made him grunt in satisfaction as his hands frantically freed one button, parting it so he could cup her firm, supple breasts.
‘Oh.’ Her breath gushed between their lips as he toyed with the stiff peaks, tortured and teased until her back arched into his grip. Blood roared through his veins as her legs wrapped tighter around him, her movements shoving him closer to the edge. Already?
He reared back, shook his head to clear the insanity ravaging him. ‘How are you so intoxicating?’ His voice was slurred and rough, drunk on a strain of lust he’d never felt before.
Lips swollen from their potent kiss parted and she licked her bottom lip, looking as hungry for him as he was for her. ‘Don’t stop,’ she pleaded.
Jario grabbed the halves of her shirt and ripped them open, her shocked gasp turning him on harder. Then her top half was completely bared to him. Then a different madness took over.
A distant part of his brain was aware of the primal urgency of his caress, the drive of his claiming, but he couldn’t have stopped himself if he tried. Swooping down, he closed his mouth over one rose-pink peak, a thick groan erupting from him at the sublime taste of her. Laving her until she was back to clawing at him, he feasted on one breast, then the other and back again, until the scent of her arousal bloomed with an insistence he couldn’t ignore.
Her shorts and flimsy panties were just as easy to rip off, feral hunger roaring through him, driving him to take, devour what was offered.
‘Destroying my clothes shouldn’t be this hot,’ she half moaned, half protested.
Slivers of amusement she seemed to frequently draw almost made him smile. That urge was smashed to smithereens when her breathtaking body was finally bared to him.
‘Santo cielo,’ he muttered under his breath. Hell, even her belly button was sexy, coaxing his fingers to drift over it, his erection jumping when a decadent shiver chased through her. ‘You’re so responsive.’
Her flush grew as she trailed her own fingers down his chest, her nails raking over his flat nipples and drawing an unguarded hiss. ‘So are you.’
Only for you.
Jario was glad the words stayed locked in his throat. So many confounding things had happened with this woman. He wasn’t about to admit more. Once this insane nee— want was out of the way, he’d find his way into essential clarity.
Batting her hand away—because, maldita sea , he was already teetering on the brink—he slid one finger into her wet heat, glorying in her cry of pleasure as he explored her silken flesh.
‘You’re so wet for me,’ he rasped.
Her hips chased his caress, her nails digging into his arms. ‘Jario...’
Another wave of satisfaction eased through him at hearing his name half sobbed from her lips. A mixture of pleading and anticipation. Wide-open and breathless with need. He had her where he wanted her. Under his control. A slave to his pleasure.
The man he’d been a mere fortnight ago would’ve been pleased at this development. The man he was now was deeply unnerved.
‘Jario?’
‘If I haven’t rendered you speechless yet, tesoro , I’m not doing an adequate job.’
Her eyes widened. Then she smiled. ‘You’re welcome to try.’
‘First things first.’
The effort it took for him to drag his gaze up made her pelvis tighten, then throb with shameless need.
‘Yes?’ she prompted breathlessly.
‘You’re fired.’
Her smile widened, welcoming the momentary relief from turbulent sensations she’d never experienced before. ‘Are you sure? You’ve repeated yourself a few times now.’
A glimmer of a smile ghosted over his lips. Then he sobered up as he picked up her hands. ‘No more scrubbing for you. I’d prefer to see these hands make music.’
Words fled her thoughts as feeling bloomed and bloomed in her chest. She’d known he was formidable the moment she met him. She hadn’t accounted for just how powerfully he could affect her emotions. How he could make her dizzy with profound yearning with a handful of words.
When her throat started to clog with feelings she didn’t want to name, and the pressure behind her eyes warned that improper tears beckoned, she freed one hand, braced it against his taut cheek.
Hooded eyes pinned her as he inhaled sharply, as if her touch and the charged words affected him, too. ‘Not that I didn’t find your scrubbing sexy, of course,’ he added, but Willow sensed he was just tossing words into the maelstrom.
And because she wasn’t quite ready to deal with just how affected she was, she summoned another smile and trailed her hand down his chest.
‘I knew there was a reason you were watching me.’
‘Indeed.’ His nostrils flared as she involuntarily squeezed her legs around him. Jario’s gaze dropped to her thighs, watched for a few seconds before climbing back up. ‘It was quite tormenting imagining you doing it naked,’ he admitted gruffly.
Her unguarded gasp darkened his eyes until they were almost black. Then, struck by an uncharacteristic streak of wickedness, she pushed him away and stood.
‘What are you doing?’ His voice throbbed with hunger and frustration.
Without answering, she spun herself around and walked outside into the sun-splashed private deck.
Glancing over her shoulder, she slowly dropped to her knees.
‘Dios mio,’ he muttered under his breath. ‘You’re exquisite.’ Every drag of his gaze over her body produced tiny explosions of fiery sensation, until her whole body was dipped in blazing liquid lust.
Caught in that weird vortex of wanting to grant his fantasy—bolstered by the comforting knowledge that she wouldn’t be maliciously branded a temptress when this was over—and wanting him at her mercy, she made a show of widening her stance just a fraction, granting him a tiny glimpse of her womanhood before, sinking slowly onto her haunches, she dropped her arms in front of her.
‘Is this how you imagined me?’
Jario’s Adam’s apple bobbed hard, and large masculine hands bunched convulsively on his thighs before he loosened them and croaked a response. ‘Yes.’
His eyes remained glued to her swaying breasts, a rumble of sound he probably didn’t know he was making, amplifying his need. Glorying in the altered balance of power in her favour, she paused, raised her hands to scrape back her hair, catching a traitorous moan when a breeze washed over her puckered nipples before it slipped free.
‘Come here, Jario. I’m no longer your employee. If you want me, you’ll have to come down here and get me.’
The words were barely out of her mouth before he was launching himself at her, dropping to his knees to wrap a demanding hand on her nape to direct her mouth to his. ‘Is this what you want, you saucy little witch?’ There was a bite to the question, even as he caught her lower lip between his teeth.
‘Y-yes.’
Another edgy curse, and he was lowering her onto the warm deck, impatiently parting her legs with his stronger ones. He tugged a condom from his pocket, loosened the tie of his joggers, then drew out his impressive shaft and sheathed himself.
It was her turn to swallow and fight not to beg. Because he was breathtaking. ‘Jario...’
Smug that the upper hand he rarely relinquished had been reclaimed, he breathed in deep, stroking himself as he watched her struggle. ‘Sí?’
Please .
She caught the word at the edge of her tongue but parted her thighs helplessly. When his chest rose and fell, when he continued to tortuously stroke himself but made no move towards her, Willow shoved at the lingering vestige of insecurity, danced her hands down over her belly, paused for one provocative second, then slid her finger into her wet folds.
Lightning fast, Jario’s hand lashed out, seizing hers. ‘No touching what’s mine, tesoro . Or there will be consequences.’
Her breath shuddered out then as he raised her captured hand, drew her fingers into his mouth and sucked, his lust-hooded eyes darting between her face and core.
‘Consequences?’
‘Look at me.’
The moment she did, Jario thrust hard and true inside her, a deep groan surging up his throat at the sublime sensation.
‘Oh, God...oh, God.’
He shook his head, cursing the near-mindless nirvana of being inside her. Then he was gritting his teeth, the need to retain control eroding fast.
Had he ever felt like this? Not in recent memory. Sweat beaded his temple, drifted down his face. ‘You feel...’ Dios . Why couldn’t he speak the words? ‘Incredible.’ He ground the word out at last, his fingers tightening their grip on her as he searched her gaze.
A gaze that widened for a moment, before turning a little hazy with desire. ‘You, too,’ she whispered.
For a nanosecond, he wished there was nothing between them. As foolish as it was, he couldn’t bat it away. It drilled deep too quickly, leaving him feeling jagged and incomplete. Like a breath that didn’t quite catch properly. A slammed door that didn’t quite shut.
‘Please...don’t stop.’
Her hitched breath, the tightening of her hot channel around his steel length, the glaze of lust in her eyes... It was too much for a man on the very edge of his endurance.
And, sí , it was simply easier to abandon thinking about it as he thrust home, bottomed out with a thick groan and heard her cry out in pleasure.
Spreading her wider, Jario struck a fast and blinding rhythm, bliss like he’d never felt before drowning him in under a minute. The very naked, conceited fear that this would be over before he’d given her the release she craved and deserved, made him finally slow down.
To suck one nipple into his mouth, savour it while he teased the other, then kiss his way back up her neck to the corner of her mouth, flicking his tongue there until she opened up for him. Then, their tongues duelling as he slid slowly in and out of her, he listened for the rapid change in her breathing, those nails digging deeper as her pleasure built. Until tearing her mouth from his, she screamed in magnificent climax.
Watching her unravel was Jario’s most mind-altering experience to date. Dios , he never wanted it to end. Never wanted that biting urgency and the confusion already snapping at his heels to gain any more momentum.
So he redirected his hold, rested on his knees and swept her up to straddle him. Tugging her arms around his neck, he dragged his lips up her neck to her ear. ‘Ride, mi linda . Ride.’
And then he exulted in watching a woman at the tail end of one climax tumble into another. Then another. Taking him along for the most intense carnal journey of his life while he barely hung on, groaning and grunting until a roar ripped his release from his soul. Until his vision turned black and senses detonated.
Leaving behind sublime pleasure that was far too soon flooded by an unnerving sensation that the want he’d brazenly sought to conquer was far from defeated.
That the cracks had only grown wider, turned into need , wrapped in despair.
Because far from detangling himself, all he was capable of doing was rising, with Willow held tight in his arms, and heading towards his suite.
Because he was nowhere near done with her.