Rafael's Suitable Bride by Cathy Williams

disrobing. Rafael had to steel himself against rushing, but it was damned hard taking his time, tracing a lazy outline of her breasts, when he wanted to rip aside that thin barrier of fabric so that he could lose himself in what they so barely contained.
    His taste in women had been formed from habit: leggy, rake-thin, exquisite clothes-horses with no spare flesh. They had looked good and had turned heads, but they had not felt like this. This woman’s body proclaimed her femininity, with all its curves and abundance. He ran his hands along her sides where her waist dipped in, giving her an exquisite hour-glass shape, and felt the waistband of her matching underwear. He slowly slipped his fingers under the elasticated waistband and felt her indrawn breath.
    He knew that she would be wet for him, but instead he removed his hand and began to gently unclasp her bra, murmuring soothing noises into her ear.
    The sight of her naked breasts filled him with a savage adrenaline rush. He couldn’t stop a groan of pure pleasure from escaping him as he cupped them and began massaging them, rolling his thumbs over her stiffened nipples, taking it very slowly until her rapid breathing slowed to low whimpers of satisfaction.
    By the time he edged her towards the bed, she was morethan ready for the feel of his mouth as it covered one of those tempting circles.
    Cristina had been saving herself all her life for this, and it was glorious. She gazed down at his dark head nuzzling her breast and writhed, now closing her eyes, at the sharp, delicious sensations evoked by the feel of his mouth and tongue working against the sensitive bud. Her entire body was aflame with a weird, wonderful, exquisite pleasure that made her want more. She arched up and wriggled instinctively against that exploring mouth, guiltily ashamed of this unforeseen wanton side that was suddenly and shatteringly released.
    She was desperate to rip off her briefs, unable to contain her own body’s response to his caresses.
    As he left her breasts to trail hot kisses along her stomach, Cristina sat up and pulled him up to her. ‘What are you doing?’ she squeaked and he grinned with boyish charm.
    â€˜Relax. I won’t be doing anything you won’t enjoy.’
    Cristina wondered how she could possibly relax when he was about to touch her there , her most intimate place, with his mouth. She was unprepared for her electrifying response as he parted those delicate folds and began caressing her with his tongue. The glory of what she was feeling stopped all her incipient inhibitions dead in their tracks, and she began moaning as he continued to lick that wildly sensitised nub until she could feel her own inevitable climax approaching.
    No! Even in her innocence, she knew that love-making should be a two-way process, and she limply tried to struggle up, but her efforts were useless against the inroads he was making with his expert lathering. She dropped back against the pillows, unable to do anything but watch his head moving between her thighs, and then she was lost in wave upon waveof shameless pleasure which had her arching back, crying out at the intensity of her fulfilment.
    â€˜I’m sorry,’ she whispered, mortified at her lack of control over her own body.
    Rafael, still recovering from the intensity of satisfaction he had derived from pleasuring her, gave her a bemused look. ‘You’re sorry?’ It dawned on him that regrets were beginning to sink in with her. She had been swept away on those notoriously unreliable wings of temptation and now she was fast recovering her senses. ‘Sorry about what?’ He levered himself up so that he was alongside her and, once there, he had to make use of all the will power at his disposal not to touch those breasts, which could drive a man wild with desire.
    â€˜It…it shouldn’t have happened like this…’ Cristina whispered, truly devastated that a man of his