Mistress to the Mediterranean Male. Кэрол Мортимер

his body before bending down to taste him as he had tasted her, wanting, needing to give him the same pleasure.

      Her tongue ran the hard length of him. Feeling empowered, she felt him spasm with pleasure, circling the tip of him before she took him into the moist heat of her mouth, her encircling fingers moving with the same gentle rhythm as her lips and tongue.

      ‘Dios mío …!’ Alejandro gasped in protest even as his hands reached out to become entangled in her hair and hold her tightly against him. His thighs moved to match those caressing hands and lips, the last twenty-four hours of damping down the release he had craved last night bringing him to the peak of release much quicker than he would have wanted.

      ‘No, Brynne!’ He reached down to stop her, lifting her up and on top of him before lowering her down again, the hardness of his shaft pulsing with his need to enter her tight wetness.

      Brynne felt Alejandro’s silken hardness move against her, reaching down to guide him into her, feeling a moment, a very brief moment, of pain, before he entered and filled her completely.

      ‘You are so tight, Brynne,’ he muttered achingly as his hands on her hips controlled her movements above him to the slow thrusts of his body. ‘So erotically tight and perfect.’ He groaned.

      But she was so aroused, so ready for him, that the slickness of her body moved easily against his, taking them to even deeper heights.

      ‘Beautiful, Brynne,’ he murmured throatily, eyes dark as he gazed his fill of her breasts. ‘You are so, so beautiful.’

      She felt beautiful, totally feminine, the pleasure she was giving him, the pleasure they were giving each other, having taken away any shyness she might otherwise have felt at such intimacies.

      Alejandro’s hands moved up her ribcage to cup the pert swell of her breasts, his thumbs moving lightly across the sensitized tips. ‘Let me kiss you again,’ he groaned achingly even as he pulled her down to him and his mouth claimed her breast.

      Brynne gasped, her hands on his shoulders, her head thrown back as Alejandro suckled the fiery tip of her breast into his mouth, the thrust of his hips against hers, the silken caress of his hardness, taking her to a climax that made her cry out in pleasure, her heat convulsing about him as Alejandro groaned and she felt him pumping his release deep inside her.

      Seconds, minutes, hours later, she collapsed weakly down onto his chest, her rasping breathing matched by Alejandro’s own as his arms closed about her and held her close against him, their bodies still joined.

      ‘Next time we will go slower,’ he promised gruffly. ‘Next time I intend driving you to the point of madness before giving you the release you crave.’

      Brynne felt so lethargic, so relaxed, so perfectly satiated, she couldn’t even think past this moment, couldn’t even imagine a next time.

      Or could she? she marvelled as Alejandro began to slowly caress down the length of her spine before moving lower, his hands now cupping her bottom, fingers featherlight as he familiarized himself with every silken inch of her.

      By next time, did he mean now? she wondered dazedly as she felt him begin to stir inside her. Surely it was too soon? Didn’t a man have to rest for some hours before—?

      ‘Ooh!’ she gasped breathlessly as she felt his growing hardness against her sensitive inner flesh.

      Alejandro grinned up at her wolfishly. ‘I hope you are replete from your nap earlier, Brynne—because I really do not intend either of us to sleep tonight.’

      Replete or not, Brynne could feel her own desire stirring, eager to know his body as intimately as he knew hers, wanting …

      They both looked up as the telephone on the bedside table began to ring. Alejandro frowned. Brynne, in sudden panic, finally remembered exactly what the something was she had waited up to tell Alejandro!

      ‘I forgot to tell you earlier,’ she groaned in a rush of guilty apology. ‘Your brother telephoned this evening while you were out—’ She didn’t get any further with her explanation as Alejandro disentangled their two bodies to lie beside her, frowning darkly before he turned to reach out and snatch the receiver from its cradle.

      Alejandro’s back was towards her as he took the call. He was speaking in Spanish so she had no idea what he was saying, but nonetheless Brynne was able to see the tension that stiffened his shoulders and spine as he listened to his brother’s end of the conversation. It just made her feel even more guilty that she had forgotten to tell him of the earlier call. It had to be something important for the other man to have called Alejandro again at—at almost midnight, Brynne realized after a glance at the bedside clock.

      How could she have forgotten to tell him? Brynne berated herself as she slid off the bed to push the drapes aside and pull on her robe. She was in the process of tying the belt securely about her waist as Alejandro ended the call, his face turned away from her as he stood up to begin pulling on his clothes.

      ‘What is it?’ Brynne frowned as she watched him.

      Alejandro sat on the side of the bed to pull on his shoes, once again the arrogant Spaniard she had known for the previous six weeks.

      ‘Alejandro …?’ she prompted nervously.

      ‘The chain of hotels we own in Australia are under threat of a takeover. I have to go,’ he spoke flatly.

      Brynne stared at him, unable to comprehend what he was saying. ‘Go where?’

      Alejandro shot her an impatient glance as he stood up. ‘Australia, of course.’

      He received a telephone call from his brother in the middle of the night, and he had to go to Australia?

      What of their lovemaking just now?

      Did that mean nothing to him at all?