In his favor, he hadn’t stated the obvious by pointing out that she had no right to pry into his love life.
“Did you make out with someone after leaving the chapel?” she asked. Every base would be covered before she allowed him to leave her.
“No.”
“Kiss someone?”
“No.” He pulled a pair of black gloves from his back pocket and tugged them on. “Let me make this interrogation easier and just admit that I haven’t done anything with a woman, any woman, for a while. And before you ask,” he added with barely a pause, “a while is a long time and no, I won’t define a long time.”
Well, all right, then. The potent mix of jealousy and fury drained the rest of the way.
“Are my testicles safe?” he asked, and damn if his lips weren’t twitching as if he wanted to grin, those golden eyes sparkling.
Irresistible man. “For now.” As relaxed as he suddenly was, now might be the perfect time to gain perspective and dig up some answers. Other than the ones he’d already denied her. “So, why did you storm out earlier?”
Lids narrowing, lashes fusing. “I didn’t storm out. I simply made a hasty exit.”
“Because your pants were on fire?” Wasn’t that how the old song went?
“Something like that,” he muttered.
Fighting an urge to draw him closer, she traced her fingers down the edge of his lapels, the material soft. He licked his lips.
Seeing his tongue ramped her up all over again. You’re so easy. With him, yeah. She was. “You made me cry, Hector.” Today, a year ago. But she didn’t mention the past.
“I know,” he replied, gruff. “But I’m not sorry. You needed it.”
“Well, now you have to kiss me better.”
Every muscle in Hector’s body stiffened. Kiss her? “What about Don Carlos? Will he mind?”
“He has a very open mind.”
Exactly what I thought. “No other boyfriends?”
“None.”
Thank God. “I will kiss you, then,” he croaked out, and it was a vow. “I’ll make you better.” He knew how he wanted to go about it, too. Strip her, spread her legs, push her against the wall, then touch and taste every inch of her. Knead her br**sts, pinch her ni**les, tongue her clit. Then pound his c**k deep inside her, so deep she wouldn’t walk for weeks.
What he’d allow himself to do was another story.
Running from this? Not an option. Her sweet scent was in his nose, her hand was on his chest. He’d leveled himself out only half an hour ago, wasn’t in the danger zone. He could do this, have this.
A tremor moved through her. “You take too long. I’ll help.” Then she pressed their lips together and his thoughts totally and completely derailed.
More.
She tasted of champagne, female heat, and mint. He nearly brought his hands up to cup her jaw to angle her head for deeper access. Don’t touch, don’t you dare touch. Instead he pressed his gloved hands into the wall beside her and crowded her backward, until she couldn’t move, was caged.
Their tongues rolled together, clashed. He operated on instinct, lust, and pent-up frustration. At no point was the kiss a gentle exploration. At all points, it was savage and hot and consuming, a rending of self, an unquenchable thirst. He wanted more, more, more, now, now, now.
No. Slow it down, fool. He had to remain distanced, had to keep himself under rigid control. But no matter what he told himself, he couldn’t stop taking, giving, taking again. Taking everything she had, eating at her, desperate for her. To own her, possess her.
“Hector,” she breathed. Her arms wound around his waist and she arched her lower body, grinding against him. A little moan escaped her, sliding down his throat and heating his every cell.
Her ni**les were hard against his chest, rasping at his shirt. So badly he wanted to trace a path down the ridges of her spine and feel her ass. He pressed closer, instead, and she rubbed all the harder against the thick, swollen length of his cock.
At the first contact, she cried out and he groaned. “You feel so good, baby.”
If he lifted her dress, opened his slacks, he could press into her wet, wet core—and she was wet, she had to be. Her need was palpable. What would it feel like to be surrounded by a woman? By this one, specifically? Warm and wet … tight.
Amazing. He could pound inside her, stretch her, pull out and start all over again.
He was rubbing against her madly, he realized, wringing deep, rich cries from her.
Fuck! You’re supposed to go slowly, you stupid ass**le.
Her fingers found their way to his scalp, skating through the strands of his hair. “Soft.”
“Like?”
“Very much.”
“I like you,” he admitted. He liked every damn thing about her. Just then, he wasn’t sure how he’d resisted her for so long. Always she was a drug, everything about her designed to lure him.
“I thought you didn’t … do this … with agents,” she said between kisses.
“I don’t. Usually.” Ever.
“So I’m special.” A statement, not a question. “Because you crave me?”
One he couldn’t deny. “Yes.” Despite everything, she’d drawn him from glance one. A draw that had only grown stronger.
“I’m glad.” She bit down on his bottom lip, the sting flaming his need, reminding him of when he’d bitten down on her. How her exquisite flavor had teased him, how he’d felt, for one stolen moment, that she was his, only his, that she belonged to him, body and soul.
Something he’d denied, even to himself. Until now, when he experienced that sense of ownership all over again.
He sucked on her tongue harder. Their teeth banged together, and even that he liked. Her hips continued to slowly gyrate against him, round and round, brushing against him, then leaving him panting for more, then brushing against him again.
Her fingers slid down his chest, to the waist of his pants, dug past the material, seeking his cock. They closed around him, and he hissed in a breath. Shit, he was going to lose it!
“The things you do to me,” he rasped.
“So big,” she breathed. “Mmm, Hector, I don’t know if you’ll be able to fit in me, but I can’t wait to find out.”
The first tingles sparked in his arms. Panic battered against his arousal, and he forced his arms to snap behind his back. “Stop. Just for a second. Please, Noelle.” Begging? Shit. Yeah, he’d begged. “Just need … a moment. I have to calm down.”