Spanish Escape: The Playboy of Puerto Banús / A Game of Vows / For the Sake of Their Son. Carol Marinelli
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      Her eyes were screwed tight as he moved a fraction backwards, but when he halted, when he stilled, her body relaxed a little. Estelle tried to release herself. She moved to slide away from him. Yet the pain was subsiding to a throbbing heat so she moved again, warming to the sensation of him inside her.

      It was a different type of command she gave next. ‘Don’t stop.’

      ‘Estelle?’ He did not want to stop, and yet he did not want to hurt her; he moved slowly a little within her, his breath shallow, panting as if he had already come.

      Her hands moved to his buttocks and she felt them tauten beneath her fingers. It was Estelle who pressed and dictated the tempo and, rarely for Raúl, he let her. Rarely for Raúl, he was humbled. He did not think of the questions he must ask her, just focused on the tight grip and the heat of her on his unsheathed skin, and all he could do was kiss her. Every inch of him held back, resisting the beckoning of oiled muscles that gripped as he slid past them, that urged him now to move faster, to take her deeper.

      Estelle’s breath was quickening. He felt the somewhat impatient rise of her groin, the press of her hands in his buttocks, and he could hold back no more.

      Still he had not taken her fully, but now he thrust in. Estelle’s neck arched as he probed and located fresh virgin flesh with each deepening thrust, and when he had filled her, when every part of her was consumed, he moved out and did it again, angling his hips, hitting her deep inside till she was moaning.

      He was moving fast now, and she wrapped her legs around him, could not believe how her body had just taken over. For she lifted to him, was building to him, working with him, both heading to the same mutual goal.

      No longer naïve, her body shattered in an orgasm like nothing she had ever given herself—for there she could stop, there she could halt. And it was nothing like the teasing he had given her either, for here in Raúl’s bed he urged her on further, broke all limits, ensured that she screamed.

      She pulsed around the head of him. He was stroking her deep inside—one spot that had her sobbing, one tender spot that he hit over and over—till she sobbed, and then he released himself into her. Her thighs were in spasm as a fresh wave of orgasm crashed through her body—and, yes, just as he had warned her, she cussed him in Spanish till he kissed her, till she was lying beneath him no longer a virgin.

      She looked up at him, expecting a barrage of questions, a demand for an explanation, but instead he moved onto his side and put his arm around her, pulling her into him.

      ‘I should have known’ was his reprimand.

      ‘I tried to tell you.’

      ‘Estelle…’ he warned.

      She gave a small nod, conceding that tonight might have been rather too late.

      ‘We will speak about it in the morning.’

      For now, they held each other, lay in each other’s arms, tired and sated and both in a place they had never thought they might be.

      Estelle a bought bride; Raúl a man who had married and made love to a virgin.

       CHAPTER ELEVEN

      ESTELLE WOKE AND had no idea where she was for a moment.

      Her body was bruised and sore. She could hear a shower.

      She rolled over in bed and saw the evidence of their union, and moved the top sheet to cover it.

      ‘Hiding the evidence?’

      Estelle turned and was shocked at the sight of him. There was a towel round his hips, but his chest was covered in the bruises she now remembered her mouth making. He turned and took a drink from the breakfast table that had presumably been delivered and she saw the scratches on his back, remembered the wanton place he had taken her to.

      ‘I need to have a shower.’

      ‘We need to talk.’ But then he conceded, ‘Have some lunch and a shower. Then we will talk.’

      ‘Lunch?’

      ‘Late lunch,’ Raúl said. ‘It is nearly two.’

      Estelle quickly gulped down some grapefruit juice and then headed to the bathroom. When she had found out they would be honeymooning on a yacht she had expected basic bathroom facilities; instead it was like a five-star hotel. The bathroom was marble, the taps and lighting incredible, yet she barely noticed. Her only thought was getting to her make-up bag.

      The doctor had told her how important it was to take her pill on time every day. She was still getting used to it. Her breasts felt sore and tender, as if she were getting her period, and she still felt a little bit queasy from the new medication.

      Estelle swallowed down the pill, making a mental note to change the alarm on her phone to two p.m.—or should she take it at seven tomorrow?

      Her mind felt dizzy. She had seen that Raúl was less than impressed with her this morning and no doubt he would want a thorough explanation. She still hadn’t worked out what to say.

      Estelle showered and put on the factor fifty he insisted on, then sorted out her hair and make-up, relieved when she headed back into the bedroom and Raúl wasn’t there. She selected a bikini from the many he had bought her, and also a pale lilac sarong. Her head was splitting from too much champagne and too much Raúl. She sat on the bed and put on espadrilles. Then, dressed—or rather barely dressed, as Raúl would want her to be—she stood. But her eyes did not go to the mirror—instead they went to the bed.

      Mortified at the thought of a maid seeing the stained sheets, Estelle started to strip the bed.

      ‘What are you doing?’

      ‘I’m just making up the bed.’

      ‘If I had a thing for maids then it would have been stipulated in the contract,’ Raúl said. ‘And if I had a thing for virgins,’ he added, ‘that would have been stipulated too.’

      Estelle said nothing.

      ‘Just leave it.’ His voice was dark. ‘The crew will take care of that. I will show you around.’

      ‘I’ll just wander…’ She went to walk past.

      ‘You can’t hide from me here,’ he warned, taking her wrist. ‘But we will discuss it later. I don’t want the staff getting even a hint that this is anything but a normal honeymoon.’

      ‘Don’t you trust your staff?’ It was meant as a small dig—because surely a man in his position could easily pay for his privacy?

      ‘I don’t trust anyone,’ Raúl said, watching the fire mount on her cheeks as his words sank in. ‘And with good reason.’

      She followed him up onto the deck. The sun blinded her for a moment.

      ‘Where are your sunglasses?’

      ‘I forgot to bring them.’ СКАЧАТЬ