Princess of Estoria (Royal Brides Book 2) Page 7

  A warm hand covered hers, and she turned to look at him. He eased her fingers open and held onto her hand.

  “Come here,” he said. He tugged gently, and her resolved melted.

  She went to him and he folded her in his arms. They rode the rest of the way like that, her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

  Gustave opened the door at the curb in front of Angela’s home. She and Andres exited onto the quiet street and walked slowly, hand in hand to the front door. The light came on and cast a yellow haze over their slow-moving bodies.

  They stopped underneath the overhang and faced each other.

  “I miss you already,” Angela said. She gave a shaky laugh.

  “Time will fly by. If I can come back sooner, I will.”

  She shook her head to dispel his need to make promises he might not be able to keep. “I’ll be here, whenever you get back.”

  She opened the door but paused before going in. She turned around and, standing on her toes, gave him a small kiss on the lips. For a split second, he didn’t move. Then with surprising speed, his arms clamped around her and dragged her against his body. He captured her mouth in a hungry kiss and plucked her lower lip between his right before he withdrew.

  But she couldn’t let go. She grasped his lapels and kept him close, pushing her tongue into a meeting with his.

  His body was a distraction. His mouth an addiction. He was the greatest temptation she’d ever encountered. She didn’t want the night to end.

  Andres groaned.

  “Stay,” she whispered against his mouth.

  “I can’t… I should go back to my hotel. I have to leave early in the morning.”

  She ran her hands up his muscled torso and rubbed her thumbs over his nipples.

  “Angela, what are you doing?” he asked in a hoarse voice. He sounded like a man at the end of his rope.

  “I want you to stay, Andres. Not to sleep next to me like you did in Africa, but to make love to me before you leave. Give me something to hold onto until you come back.”

  The distance and time apart would only inflame the fire between them.

  “As much as I want you, I don’t want to rush this.”

  “It’s no rush, I promise.”

  He laughed, his expression pained. “I want you to know that my feelings are pure. My intentions are—”

  “Yes, yes, I believe you. All of that.” She needed relief. She needed him now.

  “Angela—”

  “Andres,” she said in a stern voice. She stepped into the house and stared at him. “If you don’t get in here right now, don’t bother. Ever.”

  Seconds ticked by at a snail’s pace, and she wondered if she’d turned him off. Some men didn’t like assertive women, but she’d never been shy about her need for sex or her enjoyment of the act.

  Lucky for her, Andres smiled. Sexy, cocky, and with a grin as devilish as sin. “Your wish is my command.”

  He marched in and kicked the door shut. She reached for him, but he spun her around to face the wall and cupped her breasts from behind. Her desire flared to life, like dousing embers with gasoline. As he tweaked her engorged nipples, her knees buckled and she spread her palms against the wall to keep from crumbling into a heap at his feet.

  He brushed away her hair and kissed her ear and jaw. “I have wanted to do this all night,” he whispered huskily. “There are not enough hours in the day for everything I want to do to you.”

  She was acutely aware of him, his teeth at her neck, his long-fingered hands roaming her body.

  “Do you see how much I want you?” he asked, grasping her hips and pulling her back into his hardness. “I have been like this all fucking night because of you.”

  His angry confession made her hornier. She twisted around and kissed him hard, lifting her leg and angling her hips to rub her swollen sex against the stiffness in his pants. Her panties were damp. Her nipples were hard. This need for him, this unprecedented arousal, had been building to this point since the first night they met. She shoved her fingers into his thick hair and tilted her head to get at his mouth.

  He cradled her bottom and lifted her from the floor, and then she wrapped her legs around his waist. When her back hit the wall, his hips plowed into hers. He sprinkled kisses onto her neck and she arched her throat into the heady sensation of his soft lips. She ached for closer contact and moved against him as the pulse between her legs begged for release.

  “What about your guards and the driver? Should we send them away?” Angela panted.

  “They’ll wait. They cannot leave me.”

  They kissed again. Hungry. Chaotic. With a clash of tongues and moist lips that was erotic and wonderfully messy.

  Andres tore his mouth from hers. “Where is your bedroom?”

  “Upstairs.”

  He made haste, climbing the steep stairs with her wrapped around him.

  11

  “Don’t move. Let me taste you,” Andres whispered against her mouth.

  His drugging kisses were simply divine and made her limbs feel languid, as if she could melt into the floor. She breathed him in, anxious to have more, and the wine they drank on the beach teased her taste buds as his tongue danced with hers. He brushed her lips with that same wicked tongue and grasped a handful of hair to tilt back her head.

  “I could stay on your mouth all night, but there’s so much more of you that I want to enjoy.”

  He nibbled on her neck and sensitive collarbone, the whole time whispering words of Spanish in a husky undertone. With bites and licks, he sampled her skin, leaving her damn near incoherent in the wake of his touch. Little by little, he took control of her will and kept her immobile so he could have his fill.

  He tugged her blouse out of her pants, pulled it over her head, and tossed it aside. Then his gaze dropped to her lace-covered breasts.

  “Stay right there,” he whispered, and she couldn’t move. She only wanted to do whatever he commanded.

  He stepped behind her and unclipped the front clasp of the bra and freed her breasts into his hands.

  Angela leaned back into him and sighed with pleasure as his fingers skated over the soft mounds and then kneaded their fullness. His thumbs rubbed her nipples until they became achingly hard, full and taut under the ministrations of his hands.

  She felt as if she had wanted this man forever and shivered as he swept her hair to one side and kissed the unveiled nape of her neck. His fingers slid down to her pants and he released the button and then lowered the zipper.

  His warm hand snaked beneath the waistband of her panties and cupped her sex. Her belly clenched and pressure built in her loins from the gentle touch. The pleasure he gave was so intense that her breath tangled in her chest, unable to break free. She had to remind herself to breathe and how to stand upright because her knees threatened to buckle underneath her.

  “Mi amor…you’re so wet.”

  His fingers spread the folds apart and used the slickness to massage her clit in deliberately slow circles. Her breathing turned ragged and she covered his hand with hers. She didn’t want him to stop, but the torturous movements were almost too much to handle.

  Andres’s next move was to push her pants down her legs. He helped her out of them and her shoes and then he turned her to face him. His eyes darkened as he looked at her, standing without a stitch of clothing on her body.

  “I knew you’d be beautiful, but…” he said huskily. He lapsed into Spanish, whispering words she didn’t understand, but the adoration in his eyes were as clear as a neon sign.

  They moved to the bed and she lay down, watching with anticipation as he performed a brief striptease, unveiling his body with slow movements, first his shirt, then his pants and underwear. Finally, he was as naked as she was, and she could admire him in all his glory.

  His tight body was a thing of beauty, crafted from regular exercise and playing sports. His abs were nothing but a hard six-pack, and his legs and thighs, s
prinkled with dark hair, were thick and muscular. Her eyes zeroed in on his hard length and she couldn’t help but think that it was extremely unfair for one man to be so well-endowed.

  Andres bent over her supine body and kissed her with a hungry, mind-numbing kiss. She moaned as their fused mouths dipped and sucked at each other. Then he lowered his head to feast on her breasts while his hands smoothed over her waist and the fullness of her hips. Every line and curve in her body was explored by him. From shoulder to ankle, he grew familiar with her, kneading and caressing and touching and squeezing until she was a trembling, writhing, mess of a woman begging for her lover to put an end to her misery.

  She speared her fingers into his hair and arched her hips toward him, grinding her pelvis against his hard length, signaling a readiness to receive him whenever he was ready to take her. But he took his time. His tip teased her opening, sliding between her wet lips but refusing to enter as if he wanted to make sure that she knew he was in charge.

  He went back to her breasts and suckled each peak, teasing with his tongue and torturing with his teeth. The entire time, a hand between her legs stroked with lazy indulgence, as if he had all the time in the world. It was almost too much to bear.

  He was trying to kill her. He was trying to make her lose her mind, and that’s exactly what would happen if he didn’t take her soon.

  Her hand reached lower and covered his veined length. She shifted beneath him until he was centered at her core. He stopped moving, and she squeezed and felt him pulsate in her hand.

  “Andres, please. Take me now. Now.”

  With a deft motion, he forced her onto her belly. His hands stroked down her spine and smoothed past her waist to her bottom, where he squeezed her fleshy butt cheeks. Angela arched her back and held her breath, enthralled by his electrifying touch and the anticipation of what he would do to her next.

  Andres lifted her to her knees and bore down on her back, sliding deep between her sprawled thighs with an aggressiveness that made her gasp and grab a handful of the sheets. Her head fell forward and her hair tumbled around her face. The wanting and aching was finally over. Now only fullness and satisfaction reigned.

  The next hard thrust forced her face into the pillow. Andres placed a firm hand at her neck to keep her in that position, and she willingly succumbed to the force of his will. With a relentless rhythm, he pounded into her with increasing intensity. Her limbs trembled as she urged him deeper, angling her hips higher and clenching her muscles around him.

  “Yes, yes...” she moaned into the pillow. Eyes shut tight, she concentrated on the erotic sensation of him driving behind her and how each measured stroked slapped his hips against her ass.

  “Do you feel that? Do you feel how good we are together?”

  “Yes,” she replied, her answer ending on a tortured wail.

  She was so close. She wanted to prolong the torment but needed to get release. Both sides warred within her.

  Without warning, Andres pulled out, and she let loose an angry growl as her orgasm was snatched away so suddenly.

  She rolled over onto her back and looked up at him. Grasping her thighs, he shoved back into her, and her face crumbled at the exquisite pleasure of having him fill her again.

  “I want to watch you come,” he said.

  He seemed to abandon all control as he fucked her hard and fast. With each thrust he brought her closer to climax, and Angela dug her heels into the mattress. The reason she kept up with his manic pace was because of the adrenaline coursing through her veins. Up and down went the motion of their bodies. Up and down went the mattress at her back.

  “Look at me. Mírame,” he demanded.

  Their eyes met, and he slammed into her harder. She yielded to his strength and his relentless pace.

  His blue eyes flashed down at her and a lock of hair fell across his brow. “I want all of you. Dame todo, mi amor,” he whispered, stretching her arms above her head. He held her in position and lowered his lips to her neck. “Todo.”

  Her head arched back and her mouth fell open, eyes staring out at the night through the skylight. He added a circular rhythm to the motion of his hips, and that was her downfall.

  An orgasm burst from her loins and she cried out. Her mind spun out of control, her feverish body pulsing and shaking around him. As she came undone, completely unraveled, his own body became stiff and he dropped his head to her shoulder. His fingers tightened around her wrists and he let loose a throaty groan, pushing and pushing, harder and harder until there was nothing left to give.

  “Andres, she breathed in a shaky voice.

  “I’m here.”

  He released her arms and she closed them around his neck.

  “Andres,” she whispered again, panting. She pressed her face into the side of his neck and held on tight as aftershocks rippled through both of their bodies.

  Andres dressed slowly, aware of Angela’s eyes on him as he slipped into the clothes he’d so readily removed last night. Residual lust hummed in his veins, but he couldn’t spend any more time here without cutting it close. Daybreak was coming, and he had a flight to catch. He’d have less time to prep for his meetings and would have to sleep on the plane. Not that he was complaining. He’d enjoyed every single minute with Angela.

  He finished dressing and sat on the edge of the mattress. She lay on her side under the rumpled covers. She was a vision of loveliness, with her pink lips swollen from his kisses and her golden skin illuminated by the moonlight filtering through the open skylight.

  With a heavy heart, he stroked his fingers through her soft hair, brushing back tendrils so he could get a good look at her face. He saw the disappointment in her eyes, but he had to go.

  “I’ll call you soon.”

  “Okay.”

  He dropped a kiss on the corner of her mouth and stood before he changed his mind and abandoned his trip to South America.

  He walked across the room.

  “Goodbye, Andres,” she said.

  He turned to look at her one more time. “Hasta luego, Angela,” he replied.

  Then he was gone.

  12

  Seated in a cream leather chair in the royal plane, Andres watched with relief as Sweden disappeared from view.

  “Your Highness.” The blonde flight attendant’s soft voice caught his attention as with a sympathetic smile she set a vodka on the rocks on the table in front of him.

  “Thank you,” he said gratefully. She disappeared as quietly as she came.

  Since he’d managed to halt the building of the new casino-hotel on Estorian soil, Andres had become obsessed with the idea of transforming the nation into a leader in green living. His visit to Sweden had solely been to glean knowledge about their progress in environmental issues. The Scandinavian country made investing in green technology a priority and believed in conserving resources for future generations. Their ideology impressed him. While he had gained some valuable information from talking to the Swedish EPA about their policies, his visit with the royal family had been nerve-racking.

  Once again, the Swedish king’s distant cousin was present, and she made no secret that she would like Andres to consider her a candidate for his future spouse. She was a lovely woman with whom he’d had a fling two summers ago, but since then he’d always done his utmost best not to lead her on, making it clear that he had no interest in getting married.

  Not after seeing how miserable his grandfather and father were in their marriages. They’d sacrificed for the country, marrying noblewomen they didn’t love simply because it was tradition, because it was expected. He saw the misery between his parents, and it was an open secret that his grandfather used to have a mistress with whom he had been in love, but Felipe’s own father had not given him permission to marry her because he hadn’t deemed her worthy.

  Since Andres expected Juan to be the successor to the throne because of his age and work with Felipe, that made his anti-marriage stance even easier. He had no requirements to
produce an heir. Besides, he simply wasn’t interested in her anymore, particularly now. He was only interested in one woman.

  Angela. He couldn’t erase the memory of her or the taste of her lips. With one look, one touch, she set fire to his blood.

  A month after his trip to South America, he’d flown back to Atlanta and she spent the weekend with him at the Winthrop Hotel. The hotel chain had several locations in the metro Atlanta area, but that location was their most exclusive, known for maintaining the privacy of its high-profile guests. He rented out two floors for the entire year to make it easy for him to come and go as he pleased, and to ensure his privacy and house the staff traveling with him.

  Wearing a baseball cap low on his brow, he and Angela once went to a movie and sat in the back, with his guards flanking them at either end of the row. The next day he picked her up after an official event. He’d craved an American cheeseburger, and they went through the drive-thru in the limo. She’d had a fit giggling behind the tinted windows of the backseat as the cashier stared curiously at Gustave ordering them bacon cheeseburgers, fries, and milkshakes.

  That was only two weeks ago, and it felt like an eternity.

  Deep in thought, he sipped from his glass. Why should he wait to see her when he could arrange to be back in the States, under the guise of checking on the firm or coming up with some diplomatic reason? Why not see her now?

  Impulsively, he flipped open a panel on the table in front of him and pressed a button.

  “Yes, Your Highness,” the flight attendant answered.

  “Bring me a secure line.”

  Less than a minute later, she reentered the space and handed him a satellite phone. He dialed Angela’s direct number at work, and she answered on the second ring.