The Dreaming Of... Collection. Оливия Гейтс
touch was so exciting. He aroused her. He made her want more. Much more.
He took his time to soothe and stir her, and before long she had eased down in the bed as he continued to stroke and kiss her...her arms, her neck, the top of her chest above the swell of her breasts. It all seemed so safe and innocent. He had that down to a tee.
When she opened her eyes it was to find Tiago turned on his side, watching her. To have him monitor her responses aroused her even more, and a shaking breath shivered out of her as his big hand cupped her breast. His palm was so warm and firm, and a little roughened from his work with horses. He had intuitive hands, intuitive fingers, and when he shifted position to move over her, and his dangerous, swarthy dark face blocked out the light—blocked out everything but Tiago—she was more conscious than ever of his size and his strength. And also his willpower, and his control, and that aroused her too.
She held her breath with excitement when he stopped, wondering what would come next.
Making her comfortable on the pillows, he drew the covers back and stared down at her body, and for once in her life she didn’t rush to cover herself. She wanted Tiago to look at her. She didn’t want any secrets between them. She wanted him to see her body respond to him. Exposed like this.
His touch when he stroked her breasts was on another level. She tried to stay still but found it impossible, and with a whimper of need she reached out for him.
Tiago smiled. His dark eyes burned with hunger but he had more control than she had, and even as she writhed beneath him, trying to urge him on, he only dipped his head to brush her lips with his. That was almost enough, that kiss, but he denied her the weight of his body. His kisses fired her, his fingers teased her, and she was agonisingly responsive to his touch, but nothing she could do would make him do more.
He curved a smile. ‘I’m the luckiest man on earth.’
She was aching—really aching. She needed his firm touch now.
She gasped with relief as he returned to the assault on her senses, using firm strokes across her belly and down her thighs. And all the time he held her gaze in his.
She cried out when his hand finally found its destination. Easing her legs apart, he teased around her clitoris with a touch that was indescribable, while she lifted her hips in a hunt for more contact, crying out in desperation, not caring what he thought. She needed this—needed him. She needed this now.
At first she thought he was only going to tease her and leave her aching, but as if he could sense the level of her need he relented. Using one gloriously roughened finger-pad, he applied just the right amount of pressure, just the right amount of friction, at just the right speed.
Exclaiming at the intensity of sensation, she lost control. Tiago held her firmly in place, using his hand to increase her pleasure and make it last. Even when the pleasure waves began to fade she was incapable of speech, and could only grab a breath as he murmured with amusement, ‘I think you needed that.’
He had no idea. Sex as sport might be second nature to him, but she was a novice and would have to put these feelings in her heart to one side.
She laced her fingers through Tiago’s hair. His hair was so thick and strong. She loved the feel of it beneath her hands, just as she loved the rasp of his stubble against her neck.
Pressing kisses against her breasts, he eased her down in the bed and at last gave her what she longed for: the weight of his body pressing into hers.
She lost control again. That was all it took. She had imagined this moment for so long that now it was here she could only ride the sensation, while Tiago held her firmly in his arms, dropping kisses on her mouth.
‘Good?’ he murmured, knowing very well that it was.
‘Stop,’ she whispered, ‘or I won’t be held responsible for my actions.’
‘Don’t be,’ he said, finding this amusing. ‘Let me be responsible for your actions.’
She responded instantly as he teased her into a state of readiness and fell happily into wild release. Tiago’s kisses thrilled her. He thrilled her. She hadn’t realised how fierce she would be when it came to her need for this man. They were a fierce couple. Their hungry kisses spoke of mutual need. Tiago’s tongue claimed her. He claimed her. He challenged her in a way she welcomed. He made her fight him. He made her test him. He made her feel alive.
When he surprised her by standing up she actually groaned, her disappointment was so extreme, but he didn’t lose eye contact with her for a moment, and smiled as he reached for the buckle on his belt.
Folding her arms beneath her head, she rested back, watching him, enjoying the sight of his deft, pleasure-dealing fingers working to free him of the clothes that stood between them. His torso was hard and tanned, muscular, and magnificent, and her body was ready for him. She had never needed Tiago more.
PLUCKING THE PAGER on his belt off the bed, Tiago scanned it impatiently. ‘I’m needed on the flight deck.’
‘You have to go now?’
He laughed. ‘Yes, chica—I have to go now. Patience. Put this on the back burner. Save it for our wedding night.’
Once he was dressed he left her, the door closing quietly behind him. She felt like wailing—and not just with frustration. She was angry she had let things go this far. Tiago was so hard to resist, but she needed something more than a quick coupling in the back of his jet. She might not be heading for a proper marriage, as other people understood the term, but retaining some vestige of pride was important to her.
She had lost all semblance of self-respect after her affair with Carlos Pintos, and she knew what a long walk it was back. This time she wanted to come out of it with her head held up high.
Collapsing on the pillows, she groaned. It would be hard coming back from this. Not only would Tiago expect more from her in the physical sense, but the way she felt inside her heart gave ‘aching with need’ a whole new meaning. Her body ached too, but even that couldn’t compare with the inner pain.
Tiago had awoken dreams and thoughts and feelings inside her—more than she’d known she had.
Tossing and turning, she curled up into a ball and tried to sleep. It was useless. Nothing worked. And it wasn’t just thinking about what might have happened with Tiago that was keeping her awake. There was so much she didn’t know about him, so much she wanted to know. Maybe in Brazil they’d get the chance to talk—hopefully before their wedding night. She didn’t even have a clue when that would be. She really had jumped in with both feet this time.
* * *
If Danny had thought Chico’s ranch in Brazil was fantastic she was in for a surprise when they arrived at Fazenda Santos, where everything was impressive—from the immaculately maintained fencing, stretching as far as the eye could see over rolling green pampas, to the state-of-the-art buildings that comprised the stud. Tiago’s ranch was situated in one of the wildest regions on earth, allowing her to gain a far better understanding of the scale of his work.
Tiago seemed not to need anything as mundane as sleep, and after a shower said he would be checking round the ranch. Or at least that part of it closest to the house, he explained, as surveying all of it would take a month or more.
‘When I return I will have a hard copy of our contract with me,’ he promised, leaving her in the capable hands of his friendly housekeeper, Elena.
She was alone now in her bedroom, with time to reflect on the rapidly unfolding events of the past few days. She made a start on investigating the suite of rooms, knowing she should unpack and bathe, take the chance to go to bed for a few hours, but she just couldn’t. She was too tightly wound.
Seeing Tiago’s home for the first time