At the Spaniard's Pleasure by Jacqueline Baird Page B

pillows, and captured both of her flaying hands in one of his and pinned them above her head, his long body pressing her to the bed, and then he was kissing her again with a hard, deep hunger that set her on fire.
    Suddenly the reason for her resistance was lost in the chaos he made of her mind. She tried to pull her hands free to hold him and with another husky chuckle Nick lifted his head and stared down into her flushed face.
    â€˜No, my lovely, I am not setting you free. I missed you in my bed last night.’ Instantly she was flooded with an emotion so powerful she nearly told him, she didn’t want to be free of him ever… Surely he could see that. He might be an overbearing, arrogant chauvinist, but she knew deep within her soul that he was everything she could ever want or need in a man.
    She wanted back the friend she had missed, the lover she had only just discovered, and the intellectual and emotional strength that he had given so generously to a young girl before the episode that had made him her enemy.
    â€˜Your mother…’ She made a weak attempt to object but her heart wasn’t in it. It was in her mouth as he kissed her again. She couldn’t get enough of his mouth, her tongue seeking his in a dance of desire that met and matched himwith ever deeper abandon. She slid her hands over his shoulders removing his robe in the process.
    His mighty chest heaved and finally Nick lifted his head, his breathing harsh and his eyes staring into hers with burning satisfaction. ‘Has no one ever told you it is not a good idea to remind a man of his mother at a time like this?’ he husked, the tension holding Nick’s huge, powerful body taut over hers relaxing slightly as he shrugged off the robe completely. His heavy thigh slid over her slender hips and his hand splayed under her bottom, and pulled her into fierce connection with the rigid strength of his erection, sending quivering arrows of exquisite delight up from the apex of her thighs to spread through every nerve in her body.
    Lifting his eyes to hers, a gleam of devilment lurking in their depths, he said throatily, ‘But maybe you’re right. You just reminded me of the first pleasure in a male’s life—the joy of suckling.’
    Leaning back, he looked his fill of the perfect mounds of her breasts, pale as magnolia with erect, rosy peaks. His hands cupped and shaped them, his thumbs teasing the straining nubs until Liza moaned her pleasure, and only then did he bury his hot mouth against her aching breasts. He laved his tongue over a rigid tip and then drew the tight bud into his mouth and suckled gently.
    Helplessly Liza ran her fingers through the thick black hair of his head and urged him to deliver the same ecstasy to its aching counterpart and he obliged.
    â€˜You like that,’ Nick teased and then replaced his mouth with his hands, rolling the distended, dusky nipples between his thumb and forefinger, while he trailed a burning line of kisses down over her flat stomach.
    He nudged her long legs apart and, swamped in sensation after sensation, Liza helped him, and when his mouth delivered the most intimate kiss of all she welcomed it. Her slender hands grasped his wide shoulders and tremor after tremor shook her whole body, her nails dug into his fleshas the pressure heightened and heightened, until she thought she would die, and then suddenly it happened.
    Nick reared up and, lifting her, plunged into the shuddering heat of her in one driving movement. ‘ Dios! You feel fantastic, unbelievable.’
    â€˜So do you!’ Liza cried out as she took all of him, and as he began to move she convulsed and convulsed again in a shattering climax. Her blue eyes flew wide and collided with molten black and his dark head bent and took her mouth in a deep, almost yearning kiss.
    Incredibly the pleasure was rising again as Nick moved in a sensual rhythm, a driving urgency that Liza met and matched in a