She looked up at him, her green eyes rimmed in red from crying. “I promise to be faithful to you too.”
He felt like they were taking vows now. Like everything spoken between them in this room would be binding.
“I need you to promise something else too,” he said.
“What’s that?” she asked, her voice a whisper.
“Gabriel’s not invited into our bed.”
She grimaced. “No problem.”
“I don’t mean literally, and I don’t mean in the sense that I think you might fantasize about him or something. I mean any hang-ups he’s left you with. The guilt. You loved him. It didn’t just go away when he admitted he’d lied to you. I’ve never loved anyone, Carlotta. I know it makes people do things they wouldn’t normally do. And I just want you.”
She drew in a shaking breath. “I don’t know if I can, Rodriguez. What I did was … I can’t forgive myself for it.”
“How long did your affair with him last?”
“Every weekend for about eight weeks.”
“And you fell in love with him?”
“I was a twenty-three-year-old virgin. I thought I was in love with him the moment I went to bed with him, the night that I met him. I saw white dresses and diamond rings and forever.”
“And if you had known he was married when you met, what would you have done?”
“I never would have let him touch me.”
“He waited to tell you until he knew he had you wrapped around his finger. He’s the one who should be ashamed. Deeply. He deceived you. He manipulated you.”
“I still did the wrong thing,” she insisted.
“And I am in no position to throw stones. I’ve made mistakes. That’s another thing I’ll never ask of you. I’ll never ask you to be perfect, because I know I never will be.”
“I think I can do that,” she said, her voice trembling, a small laugh escaping.
“I know this isn’t what either of us expected, but I think we can make it work.” He moved his thumb over her smooth, creamy skin. His body responding to the silken texture, to her scent. Even now, he could remember how it had been to caress the even softer skin of her breasts. A tremor of lust rocked him.
“And you’ll always tell the truth?”
“I will,” he said.
“What are you thinking right now?”
He gritted his teeth. “I’m thinking about how much I want to continue what we started on the beach. How beautiful your breasts are. How much I want to taste them again.”
Her cheeks flushed deep rose, her full lips curving up slightly. “Not exactly what I was expecting.”
“But honest,” he said.
“I want you too, but …”
“Forget everything right now. What do you want?”
“You,” she said. “I want to make love with you. But …”
He leaned in and kissed her. Carlotta closed her eyes and let the touch of Rodriguez’s mouth on her wash everything away. The guilt. The hurt. His kiss cleansed her, left her empty, wanting, then filled her again with desire, need.
She’d told him the truth and he still wanted her. Maybe she could do this after all. Want it. Want him.
She’d had her guilt tangled up in desire for so long. Had seen desire as her downfall. Not just sexual desire, but the wild part of herself she was afraid was always beneath the surface. She’d let a part of it out before, but Rodriguez, wanting him, made it flood her. She felt out of control, but in the very best way. What would happen if she gave in? Not on their wedding night, not when it was expected, but now. When it was her choice.
To follow her desire and prove to herself that she could have sex and pleasure, like a normal woman. To prove that she didn’t have to spend her whole life being punished for one mistake.
She wanted to believe it. She wanted so much for Rodriguez’s words to be true. She wanted to accept forgiveness. So badly she ached with the need of it.
“Yes, Rodriguez, please,” she said against his lips. “Please make love with me.” A rush of relief flooded her when she spoke the words. Like invisible bonds had broken and she was free. To feel, fully and completely, the need that he inspired in her. To want him as a woman wanted a man without the ghost of her past mistakes haunting her. Without inhibition. Without the cloying, crushing weight of expectation that had been on her all of her life.
She’d never felt anything like this before. She was immersed in sexual desire, in reckless need. There was no thought. No control.
His kiss deepened, intensified, and she returned it, her tongue delving deeply into his mouth, the feeling sending a thrill of pleasure through her, making her body ache for more.
He unzipped her dress quickly and she helped by unhooking her bra and letting it fall to the floor. She was eager to get back where they had been. To take what she’d denied herself earlier.
He didn’t disappoint. Rodriguez lowered his head, tracing the valley between her breasts with the tip of his tongue. She shivered at the contact, her nipples tightening along with an answering clenching of the muscles low in her stomach.
His tongue edged nearer to her nipple and she held her breath, waiting for him to give her more. To give her what she wanted. He didn’t. And it wasn’t because he didn’t know. His low, husky chuckle told her he knew exactly what he was doing to her. And that he was doing it on purpose.
“Rodriguez.” She panted his name, not caring if she sounded like she was begging. Because she was.
She arched into him, and he honored the request, drawing one tightened bud deep into his mouth, the suction resonating within her, deep and low, making her internal muscles clench tight. He turned his attention to her other breast, and she let her head fall back, reveling in his attention, allowing herself to feel every sensation that was firing through her bloodstream.
He moved his head away and blew lightly on her damp skin, the shock of cold air tightening the bonds of arousal around her body, holding her captive to need.
She gripped the back of his head, her fingers wound tightly in his hair, every muscle in her body tensing, waiting to find out what he would do next. He kissed her, just beneath her breasts, then again lower, tracing a line to her belly button with the tip of his tongue before he gripped the bunched-up sides of her gown and tugged it down her legs.
“Still good, querida?” he asked, his voice rough.
“Yes,” she breathed. “So good.”
“It will only get better.” He pulled her panties down her legs and parted them gently, his tongue gliding along her inner thigh.
Her entire body was trembling, nerves and arousal making her stomach churn. He traced the line of her delicate flesh, his tongue delving between her slick folds. A hoarse sound escaped her lips as she gripped his shoulders, trying to keep herself from jumping away from him. Making sure he didn’t abandon her.
The sensations, the intensity of them, were almost too much. He continued to pleasure her with long strokes of his tongue and she felt like she was going to shatter and fall into a million pieces all around him.
When he pushed one finger inside her, she did. An explosion of pleasure roared through her, her core pulsing around him as he worked to draw her climax out to impossible heights, impossible lengths.
She felt weak after, spent, but far from finished.
He wrapped his arms around her and drew her down