One Night in Madrid: Spanish Billionaire, Innocent Wife / The Spaniard's Defiant Virgin / The Spanish Duke's Virgin Bride

‘Alannah …’ Raul said again but this time her name was a growl of response against her lips.

‘Mmm?’ Alannah sighed, wriggling even closer, pressing herself against him and hearing the beat of his heart kick up a notch under the powerful ribcage.

‘Dios! You devil woman!’ he muttered against her mouth and the hands that had held her held no more. Instead they roved hungrily over her body, powerful fingers curving over and cupping the soft curves of her buttocks, pulling her in even closer to the heated force of his erection.

‘I only ever needed to take one look to want you more than any woman in the world. I still do.’

‘Me too …I want you too.’

Alannah felt the words slip past her guard with a tiny sense of shock. Even when they’d been together, she had never been brave enough or bold enough to admit to her sexual need of this man. Oh, she’d felt it often enough. And she’d shown him in wordless, physical ways, by her responses to his kisses and his caresses, just how much she desired him. But she had never actually come right out and said it in so many words.

She could only imagine that two long years of loneliness, of missing him, missing his touch, his kiss, had driven her into a state of sensual starvation, one in which she no longer had the strength or control to impose any restraint on her tongue so that Raul’s kisses had loosened even the weak grip she had on it.

Raul’s kisses and the very basic, very simple need for human comfort after the loss and misery she had endured so recently. Life was too short, too precarious to be lived at a lukewarm temperature. She’d welcomed the heat of her response to Raul as a way to melt the ice that seemed to have formed around her heart, shutting her off from the world, from all emotion.

Here at least was proof that she was still very much alive—and feeling.

‘You do?’

Her new openness had stunned Raul too. His dark head went back, deep-set eyes narrowing until all she could see was a tiny strip of burning gold gleaming between the thick black lashes that fringed them.

‘Is this the truth?’

Some of her unexpected courage deserting her under the intense scrutiny of that smouldering gaze, Alannah felt hot colour flood her cheeks, her mouth drying sharply so that she could only nod in silent acquiescence. She wanted to look anywhere but into his eyes, unable to meet them and answer the question in them when they were fixed on hers, so she lowered her gaze hastily, meaning to stare at the floor.

Instead she found that her eyes were caught by the broad expanse of Raul’s chest under the fine linen of his shirt. Where he had tugged his tie loose and unfastened a single button at the neck the tanned skin of his throat seemed impossibly dark—burnished almost—in contrast to the immaculate white and the shadow of the black, curling chest hair that showed faintly through it. The memory of how it had felt to smooth her fingertips over that hair, feeling it crisp and springy under her touch, made her swallow hard, fighting the urge to lift her hands to his chest, unbutton his shirt, to know the feeling all over again.

In an effort to resist the temptation, she forced her eyes lower, only to find the colour rising higher in her face, heating her blood, as her gaze rested on the silver buckle and the polished black leather of the belt that fastened around the narrow waist. There was no possibility that she could be unaware of the way that the fine material of his trousers stretched tautly over the heated bulge of his erection, the force of his reaction proving physically the truth of his uninhibited claim to want her.

More than any other woman in the world?

Privately, Alannah doubted that. But for now she’d take this, she told herself. For now, simply knowing that this devastating man, the only man she’d ever wanted to sleep with, still desired her was balm to her wounded soul, a promise of delight in a world that until now had seemed to have turned completely black.

‘Then what about him?’ Raul pressed, the unexpectedness of the question slicing into her heated thoughts and jolting her so that her eyes flew back up to his face, a faint frown of confusion creasing the space between her finely arched brows.

‘Him?’ she echoed in bewilderment. ‘Who? Who do you mean?’

‘Who else but your other man, of course?’

Raul’s tone was light, almost casual, but there was a new sharpness in his scrutiny, a watchfulness in the eyes that were once more fixed on her face, that told her that his words were meant far from casually. And in the same moment that the realisation of just what he meant hit home, the recognition of the fact that it truly mattered to him rocked her world with the sense of a blow to her head, making her thoughts spin dizzily.

‘My other man …’ was all she could croak, her voice deserting her as she struggled for control. ‘Who …?’

His swift dark frown reproved her and she knew that he believed she was playing with him, not understanding simply for the hell of it, deliberately being provocative in order to rile him further.

‘Let’s get one thing straight, querida,’ he muttered, low and harsh, ‘I don’t sleep with other men’s women, no matter how strong the temptation.’

‘Other men’s women!’ Alannah spluttered indignantly. ‘Let me tell you that I’m no man’s woman! I don’t belong to anyone and—’

‘Then the new lover is no longer in the picture?’ Raul shot at her, the question getting under her guard like a sharp stiletto knife in her ribs.

‘There is no new lover!’ she flung at him then, her throat closing up in horror as she saw his dark head go back and realised what she had said and how much she had given away. She could almost see his mind going back over their last day together, reliving the scene, recalling everything she had said.

‘So you walked out on him too, hmm? But perhaps you gave the poor fool more than the few months you gave me. And then …’ pausing to stare deep into her eyes, he lifted a hand and ran it softly down the side of her face, smiling darkly as he watched her automatic reaction, the way she arched slightly into the caress, her eyes half closing sensually ‘.his loss is my gain …’

And, bending his head, he took her mouth again in a kiss so deeply sensual that it made her head swim, had her clutching at his shoulders, crushing the fine material of his jacket under nerveless fingers as once more the tidal wave of sensation took her by storm. The heated caress of his hands, sweeping down her neck, over her shoulders, along her arms, made her shudder in pleasurable response and she pressed herself closer to the warm power of his body, needing more than such a gentle touch. Raul laughed softly, deep in his throat, and drew her in, holding her close as he tilted up her head so that he could plunder her mouth more effectively.

The hand that was at her back moved up to the V neckline of her dress, sliding in, finding the warm skin underneath and stroking softly. When he heard her murmur of delight and felt the way that the light touch made her squirm against him he dropped the hand that had been under her chin to the same sensitive area, tracing erotic patterns with his fingers outwards and downwards, moving towards the spot where her tight and swollen breasts pressed against the confines of her bra. In the moment that those tantalising fingertips brushed over the sensitised peaks under the pale green satin, Alannah gasped aloud in shocked delight to the fierce intensity of feeling his touch created, heat pooled low down between her legs and she pressed her mouth harder against his, mutely encouraging more of the arousing delight. With one hand he held her there while the other moved down the front of her dress, wrenching open the small pearly buttons that held it fastened with hungry impatience. When his hot fingers closed over the swell of her breast in the silk and lace of her bra, thumb and forefinger scissoring together to tweak the already straining nipple into stinging life, Alannah gasped again, her head falling back as she reacted to the electric jolt of pleasure that burned through her.

The movement gave Raul even more access to the front of her dress, ripping open buttons with such force that several flew away from her, bouncing off the table, the arm of the chair. Bent backwards on his supporting arm, she felt him ease one aching breast out of the silky cup of her bra, lifting it so that the pouting nipple was exposed, easily accessible to the hotly tormenting caress of his mouth.

‘Raul …’ His name was a crooning sound, a note of wonder and almost disbelief at the pleasure he was giving her.

She felt him half walk, half carry her part way across the room, knew the pressure of the seat of the settee at the backs of her knees before she tumbled down onto the black leather, crushed against the cushions by the weight of Raul’s body following her.

‘You are eternal temptation,’ Raul muttered against her neck, where his burning mouth was now working another sort of magic, one that involved the delicately erotic patterns his tongue was tracing over her skin, making her writhe in delight. ‘And I have never ever been able to resist temptation.’

Each word was punctuated with another kiss, hard, demanding, possessive. Making her his, stamping her with his brand.

‘Never …’

And, now that she had come so near and yet so far so many times, the flames that were waiting to engulf Alannah’s body, her mind, flared and raged out of control in the space of a frantic heartbeat. She didn’t have time to think or even to breathe as Raul crushed her under his weight.

His mouth was fierce on hers, his hands urgent, burning as they explored every shivering inch of her. Those wicked fingers had now opened the front of her dress right down to her navel so that they could slide in further, pushing under the yielding elastic at the top of her knickers, reaching down to where the need pulsed hardest, making her whimper in hungry response.

‘No …’ he muttered when he was forced to snatch in a rough, ragged breath—it was either that or suffocate.

No? The question sounded in her head; she didn’t have the strength or the ability to actually voice it, let alone understand the harsh-voiced Spanish snarled against the side of her neck. How could he mean no when she wanted this so badly and she could have sworn …?

‘Not like this,’ Raul responded impatiently. ‘Not here—the bedroom …’

‘Yes …’

Alannah managed a gasp of sound. She had no time for more because as soon as she had spoken her lips were claimed again and Raul lifted her right off her feet and bundled her out in the direction she had indicated so fast that her head spun. His mouth was still hard against hers, weaving a sensual magic with his lips and his tongue, and the hands that held her were clamped around her hips, managing to caress her in a way that stoked the fires of her need at the same time that they lifted her and carried her, in the direction of the bedroom. ‘This will have to go!’

Impatience had got the better of him and he propped her up against the wall again, taking the now loosened dress by the hem and wrenching it upwards. For a moment Alannah was blinded by the green cloth over her face but then he pulled it free again and tossed it aside, careless of the way that it landed on the polished wooden floor in a crumpled heap.

‘Better …’

Dark eyes dropped to the spill of her breasts from the confines of the pale green satin and he drew in a deep, uneven breath.

‘Much better.’

Alannah’s own breath was snatched in as he curved his big hands under each breast, cupping and lifting them to the caress of his mouth, the wicked, tormenting flicker of his hot tongue. Almost unable to bear it, Alannah writhed against the wall, colour flushing her face, heat flooding her body, the intensity of arousal so sharp it was like a stab of pain.

‘Raul …’

It was a moan of protest—or encouragement, and even she couldn’t have said which. With her back still against the wall, she edged her way inch by inch towards the door at the end of the corridor that led to the bedroom. The burn of his touch on her sensitised skin was wonderful, and the flare of need it woke inside seared through every nerve, every cell of her body. But if he dragged this out any longer then she was going to go up in flames like a forest fire, raging through paper-dry undergrowth. ‘Raul—please …’

A laugh, low, dark, triumphant, greeted her plea and, catching hold of her again, keeping her still with the strength of one arm around her, Raul captured her mouth, subjecting it to a sensually tormenting onslaught as his free hand swiftly and efficiently dealt with the clasp of her bra, freeing it and tossing it aside, somewhere in the general direction of the already discarded dress.

The feel of his hands on the bare skin of her breasts was almost more than she could take. Her head went back against the wall, a low, wild moan escaping her, and she sagged at the knees, coming close to collapse in delight.

‘Raul—please …!’

Another laugh, even rougher this time, sounded low in his throat as he pressed a line of hot kisses along her shoulder and into the small hollow at the base of her neck. And all the time those wicked, knowing, tantalising hands played havoc with her senses as they touched and stroked and teased and tormented the stinging tips of her breasts, one moment gentle, then tugging on the swollen nipples until she felt she might actually pass out with the force of the sensations she was feeling.

But then suddenly it seemed that Raul lost all patience. No longer prepared to anticipate, to delay, to drag out the pleasure for a moment longer, he gave a low growl and snatched her up into his arms, swinging her high as he strode the few metres down the corridor to the bedroom, kicking open the door and carrying her in.

Marching over to the bed, he dropped her onto it with little ceremony, obviously impatient now, nearing the end of his control just as she had almost lost hers. Eyes that were black with passion locked with Alannah’s as he stripped off his clothes, letting the elegantly tailored suit, the crisp white shirt fall where they would as he tossed them aside without any concern.

And Alannah couldn’t look anywhere else. She didn’t want to look anywhere else. She was transfixed by the sight of the fabulous body that he was revealing, each discarded item exposing another part of the male beauty that was Raul Marcín. He was broad and strong, with straight, powerful shoulders and torso, his chest hazed with the black body hair she had glimpsed so faintly before. Exposed like this, it was darker than ever, curling and crisp, then arrowing down past his narrow waist to disappear into the waistband of his trousers.

She might have thought that as she lay there, with no touch, no kiss to stoke the fires of need he had awoken, those fires might ebb, but the truth was that the opposite was happening. Every inch of tanned olive skin that was revealed made her pulse beat stronger, harder; her blood burn hotter. Now she felt she understood just why she had never been able to replace this man in her mind and in her heart. The truth was simply that there was no one else for her; no one who could match him against her personal blueprint for the perfect man. In the few short months that they had been together he had stamped his brand on her as surely as if she had been some long-ago slave, marked as her owner’s possession; his to do with as he would. And nothing had changed.

When black boxer shorts were his only clothing he came back to her, bending over the bed to take her lips in a long, lingering kiss that sparked off once again all the sensations that had driven her to distraction before. Hungrily she reached up, fastening her hands around his broad shoulders, wanting to draw him down to her, but Raul stilled her with a touch, pressing her back against the pillows while he eased the small green slip of her underwear from her body. The next moment he had pressed his mouth to the smooth flesh his hands had exposed, kissing a trail of fire the length of her body.

‘Dios, but I need this.’

Raul’s voice was raw, thickened by the hunger that she could feel tensing his body; the same hunger that was burning between her legs, making her shift restlessly on the bed.

‘Me too …’

Perhaps if she soothed him, stroked him in the same way that he was touching her then he would relent and give her the satisfaction she craved. But when she smoothed her hands over his hot, bronzed skin it seemed to have the opposite effect of soothing. Instead she saw the feverish glitter of hunger in his eyes, the red slash of colour on those high carved cheekbones and heard his breathing coming rough and ragged as he fought for control.

A control she didn’t want.

And when his kisses caressed her breasts, moving over the soft curves until they found the pouting pink nipple, then she could hardly find the strength to bear it.

‘Raul—please—come to me …’

Her fingers fumbling in their haste, she tugged at the black boxer shorts, hearing his harsh intake of breath as he helped her with them, shrugging himself out of his last item of clothing. And then at last he was right with her, his hot body heavy on top of her, his hair-roughened legs pushing hers apart, opening her to him.

‘Oh, yes … Yes …’ Alannah sighed her delight, holding him tight against her, parting her legs even more so that they were either side of his narrow hips, giving him access to the innermost core of her body.

Knowing fingers stroked the exposed flesh, brushed the small, swollen centre of her desire, making her moan aloud and shiver in a response that almost took her over the edge. Almost, but not far enough. Once more her hands clutched at his wide shoulders, urging him closer, closer. And now at least she heard the breath hiss through his teeth as he abandoned all attempt at restraint and buried himself in her yearning body in one long, powerful thrust.

‘Alannah …’

‘Raul—yes …’

Their voices clashed on the night air, echoing wildly in the silent, shadowed room.

But even as the sound of her name died away she knew that something had changed. Something in her reaction, some tiny quiver in her voice at the sting of pain, some momentary tension that she couldn’t restrain, had given her away. Raul’s long body stilled, tautening sharply as he fought for control, and the dark head that had been thrown back in uncontrolled response now came forward again, golden eyes searching her face, looking for the answer to the question that clearly burned in his mind.

‘Still?’ he said and the single word encompassed a world of meaning, of disbelief, of shock. ‘Still so innocent? But how …?’

She knew his eyes were on her, knew that that intently burning gaze was searching her face, looking for the answer he wanted, the answer she didn’t know how to give him—didn’t dare to give him. And so she kept her own eyes tight shut and used her hands to distract him, wanting to divert him from the realisation that she had still kept the virginity he had once prized so highly, stroking softly so that he writhed under her touch.

‘How doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter,’ she assured him, low-voiced and urgent.

She didn’t want him to think of it, didn’t want it to make him hesitate, perhaps even—oh, dear heaven, no—perhaps even make him stop. He couldn’t stop now or she felt that her heart would burst with the need that was pounding through her untried body. She didn’t need experience, or knowledge, to sense that something very special, something spectacular was so very close, almost within reach.

‘Alannah …’ Raul muttered, thick and rough, but she shook her head in denial of his concern, her body moving restlessly under his, opening even further.

‘Nothing matters—but this—but now—but us …’

And with a gentle touch, the deliberately provocative movements of her body that every feminine instinct taught her how to use, she fought to divert his thoughts on to other, more pleasurable paths. She knew she had succeeded when she heard his groan of surrender, felt the long body that covered her tense in a new and different way.

‘Yes,’ she whispered close against his ear. ‘Yes—please, Raul—please make me yours …’

Beyond the windows, the day was cold and grey, the dark clouds threatening rain once again. But here, in their own confined and private little world, there was nothing but heat and hunger, the burn of desire and the delight of touch, of deep, sensual, wonderful movement. A heat that grew and grew, building higher and higher with each glorious movement, each kiss, each caress that took her further and further from reality and into the throes of sensation that closed over her like a tidal wave, swamping her. Abandoning herself completely, she surrendered to it, gave herself up to the wonder of it until she lost all sense of anything but the soaring, blinding, blazing yearning for completion.

And suddenly she was no longer yearning but exploding, whirling and soaring high out of the world and into a delirium of pleasure that exploded in her mind, devastating it totally. Somewhere, a long, long way away, she heard Raul’s wild cry of delight as he followed her over the edge and their bodies clenched tightly together, frozen, suspended, clinging on to the last shuddering aftershocks of delight.

Only when they had ebbed away did she sigh and let herself collapse back on the bed, her breathing raw and ragged, her chest heaving, her body replete, her mind numb. And Raul came with her, his long body sprawled over hers in total abandonment as he dragged in heavy, almost painful breaths in the struggle to regain some sort of control. His powerful frame was slicked with sweat, his head limp and heavy against her breast. She could feel his heartbeat still racing hard against his ribcage, in matching time to her own.

It took a long time before his breathing finally slowed and with a long, contented sigh he rolled off her to lie on his back with one arm flung up across his eyes.

‘Dios,’ he muttered hoarsely. ‘If I had known it would be like this I would never have let you go …’

She’d always known, Alannah acknowledged in the privacy of her thoughts. She had thought that she’d forgotten—or tried to forget—just what an effect Raul had always had on her, the aching yearning, the blazing need that he could awaken simply by existing, it seemed. But the truth was that it was all just there, right below the surface, needing only a touch, a kiss, to set light to the still smouldering embers of her need for him and she had gone up in flames. Totally at his command.

And she had to face it now that it would always be that way. That she would never be free of Raul, but always tied to him, always in thrall to him and to her own need of him. It was a need that no one night, no thousands of nights could ever hope to appease. Instead it would take the rest of her life and she still wouldn’t be free of her hunger for him.

But for now at least that hunger was appeased, her body satiated. For now she felt settled, at ease, and as Raul turned on his side his strong arms came round her, safe and secure. Her body ached in so many places, but it was a wonderful, satisfied ache, one that matched the delight that still made her glow in every nerve, every inch of her skin. What had happened between them this evening had reminded both of them of what they had once shared. Even if this was all that she meant to Raul then surely from now on things had to be better.

At her side Raul stirred and, reaching out a hand, pulled up the duvet and flung it over her, enclosing them both in a soft, warm cave of down, cosy and snug. He was lying behind her now, with the length of his body pressed against hers, legs tangled together.

She cuddled closer, feeling his arms holding her tight. In the warmth and security of his embrace, she felt her eyes grow heavy, droop closed, warm waves of tiredness washing over her. For the first time in five days she felt the tension that had been with her every second slowly ease from her.