‘You could have had that years ago.’ Estelle answered as she hoped Raúl would expect his loyal wife to.
‘I want him to make peace with his father while there is still time. I don’t want him to have any guilt when his father passes. I know how much guilt he has over his mother.’
Estelle blinked, unsure how to respond because there was so much she didn’t know about Raúl. What did he have to feel guilty about? Raúl had been a child, after all. He had agreed to tell her more on their honeymoon—had said that he would be the one to deal with any questions tonight.
‘I have always loved Raúl. I have always thought of him as a son.’
‘So why did you leave it so late to tell him?’ Perhaps it was the emotion of the day, but the tears that flashed in Estelle’s eyes were real. ‘If you cared so much for him—’
Estelle halted. It wasn’t her place to ask, and Raúl certainly wouldn’t thank her for delving. She was here to ensure his father left his share of the business to him, that was all. She would do well to remember that.
‘I do care,’ Angela responded. ‘Whatever Raúl thinks of me, from a distance I have loved him as a son.’
‘From a distance?’ Estelle repeated, making the bitter point.
Turning on her heel, she walked out and straight into Raúl’s arms.
‘She wanted to speak about you,’ Estelle told him. ‘I don’t know how well I handled it.’
‘We’ll discuss it later,’ Raúl said, for he had seen Angela follow her in. ‘Now we have to hand out the favours.’
It really was an amazing party, and for reasons of her own Estelle didn’t particularly want it to end.
As per tradition, the bride and groom had to see off all their guests and be the last to leave. Antonio tired first, and she felt the grip of Raúl’s hand tighten on hers as his father left with his loyal PA.
‘It’s been great,’ Andrew said as he prepared to head back to the hotel he was staying in. ‘Once Cecelia is well, and I’m working, I’m going to bring Amanda and Cecelia here for a holiday, to visit you.’
‘You do that,’ Estelle said, and bent down and gave her brother a cuddle, then stood as Raúl shook his hand.
‘Look after my sister.’
‘You do not have to worry about that.’
‘Have a great honeymoon.’
A driver sorted out the wheelchair and they waved Andrew off and then headed back inside.
Apart from the staff it was just Raúl and Estelle now, and still the music went on as they danced their last dance of the night.
‘It really helped having Andrew here.’ Her hands were round the back of his neck, he held her hips, and she would give anything not to disappoint him tonight—anything to be the experienced lover he assumed she was.
‘I thought it might.’
‘It didn’t just help me,’ Estelle admitted, and started to tell him about how Andrew’s confidence had been lacking.
But he dropped a kiss on her shoulder. ‘Enough about others.’
Estelle swallowed. She could feel his fingers exploring the halter neck, his other hand running down the row of tiny buttons that ran to the base of her spine, and she knew he was planning his movements, undressing her slowly in his mind as they danced.
‘Raúl…’ His mouth was working over her bare shoulder, kissing it deeply; she could feel the soft suction, feel the heat of his tongue and his ardour building. ‘I’ve never slept with anyone before.’
He moaned into her shoulder and pulled her tighter into him, so she could feel every inch of the turn-on he thought she was giving him.
‘I mean it.’ Her voice was shaking. ‘You’ll be my first.’
‘Come on, then.’ His mouth was now at her ear. ‘Let’s go and play virgins.’
THEY WERE DRIVEN the short distance to the marina, but for Estelle it just passed in a blur.
It was almost morning, yet despite the hour the celebrations continued.
Alberto, the skipper, welcomed them, and briefly introduced the staff—but Estelle barely took in the names, let alone her surroundings. All she could think of was what was soon to come as the crew toasted them and then Raúl dismissed them.
‘Tomorrow I will show you around properly,’ Raúl said, taking her champagne glass. ‘But for now…’
There was no escaping. He pulled her towards him, his tongue back on her neck, at the crease between her neck and shoulder. He had been mentally undressing her before, for now his hands moved straight to the halter neck and expertly unravelled the carefully tied bow.
He had been expecting a basque, had anticipated another contraption to disable, but the dress had an inbuilt bra and he gave a low growl of approval as one of the breasts that had filled his private visions in recent days fell heavy and ripe into his palm.
‘Raúl, someone might come…’
‘That would be you,’ he said, but she did not relax. ‘No one will disturb us.’
Raúl lowered his head and licked around the pale areola, flicked a nipple that had been crushed all day by fabric back into rapid life, surprised that she was concerned that someone might come in. The staff on his yacht had seen many a decadent party—a husband and wife on their wedding night paled in comparison with what usually took place. He took the breast he craved in his mouth again, felt her hand try to push him back. He was at first surprised by her reticence—but then he remembered their game.
‘Of course.’ He smiled. ‘You are nervous.’
He lifted her up and carried her down to the master stateroom, kissing her the entire way. He lowered her to the ground, turning her around so he could work on the tiny buttons from behind. It did not halt his mouth; his tongue kissed every inch of newly exposed flesh till her spine felt as if it were on fire.
He peeled off her dress, then her shoes and stockings. As his tongue licked and nibbled her sex through her silk panties the sensations his mouth delivered drove her wild. He only removed her panties when the moisture his mouth had made matched the dampening silk.
‘Raúl…’ Her hands were on his head—contrary hands that tried to halt him, while her moans of mounting desire urged him on.
‘I want you so bad.’ He peeled off her panties and, kneeling, parted her lips, his tongue darting to the swelling bud over and over as her hands knotted in his hair.
‘Raúl…’ she whimpered, lost between bliss and fear. ‘I’m serious. I really haven’t slept with anyone before.’
He simply didn’t believe her. As she came under his mouth she had a hopeless thought that maybe he wouldn’t guess, maybe he wouldn’t know. Because despite her
naïveté her body responded with ease. She throbbed against his mouth, more aroused than sated as he softly kissed the lingering orgasm.
He relished her taste, was assured she was moist. He was desperate now to take her.
He rose to his full height then, and shrugged his jacket off.
Breathless, aroused, moving on instinct, her hands shaking with want, she undid the buttons of his shirt. He was