The end

His hands clenched into fists at his sides when she pressed her lips to his chest, but he stayed still. She moved her mouth down, and the masculine, salty taste of his skin aroused her even more. She forced her mind to concentrate on giving pleasure rather than receiving, but the two were so intertwined it was impossible to stop the fire racing through her blood.

He had scars on his chest, she noted with curiosity. Several, in fact, giving the warrior illusion more substance than fantasy.

She wouldn’t ask. At least, not now. Whatever he’d done before, whatever had happened, she didn’t want to know. There was only now, right now, and the two of them.

He squirmed when she kissed a long, jagged scar beside his navel. With her tongue she followed the line of his scar like a one-way road.

To her delight, the scar continued below his waistband. She unbuttoned his slacks with every intention of exploring the path to its final destination, but when she tugged his zipper down over the hard ridge of his manhood, he gave a low growl, and suddenly it was she who was on her back.

She barely had time to catch her breath before his shirt was off, his shoes, then his pants, until he stood gloriously and magnificently naked.

She was a tall woman, but she’d never felt so small, so vulnerable. Her heart jumped at the sight of him, pounded furiously in her chest.

He moved over her, slid his hands all the way up her legs to the top of her stockings, then slowly rolled each one down. His lips followed the path of his fingers, and he kissed the inside of each thigh, her knees, her calves, then back up again, until she writhed frantically under him.

His mouth ascended her body, tasting the curve of her hip, the flat hollow of her stomach, the underside of her breast. She bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out, but when he covered the hardened peak of her nipple with his mouth, she did cry out, arching upward at the jolt of intense pleasure that surged through her.

His tongue was hot and wet; he drew her into his mouth and feasted hungrily on her. An ache spread through her body and centered between her legs, a pleasure that bordered on pain.

He moved to her other breast, gave equal attention then while he smoothed his palm over her hip, then her belly. His hand slipped under the lace of her panties, caressed the triangle of curls there before he slid one finger deeper, into the sensitive folds of her body, stroking her gently at the same time he took her breast into his mouth.

The assault on her body was more than she could bear. She moved urgently against him, raked his shoulders witl her fingernails. “Miguel,” she gasped. “Please.”

He needed no more encouragement. He slipped her panties off, then spread her legs as he moved over her. His entry was hard and fast, and she took him fully, lifting he hips to meet his.

He made a sound, a deep, animal like sound and moved inside her. She wound her legs tightly around him, wanting him closer still.

The climax hit her like an explosion, and she nearly screamed from the force of it. She shuddered over and over, and he lifted her hips higher still while he thrust wildly. On a low, guttural groan, he shuddered, too, and she held on while they rode the intense waves together.

When he collapsed on top of her, his breathing ragged, his heart pounding, she smiled and gently slid her arms around his neck.

He had no idea what to say. Nothing like this had ever happened to him before. Never had he felt so out of control, so completely lost, so completely satisfied. In his entire life, nothing had even come close.

He started to rise, to ease his weight off her, but she wound her arms tightly around his neck and held him still.

“Don’t move,” she whispered.

“That’s what you said before,” he teased, “and look what happened.”

There was a sparkle in her eyes when she looked up at him. “I know.”

“You’re an evil woman, Bella Trump. You frighten me.”

She smiled at him. “Good.”

She did frighten him, Miguel thought suddenly. Like no woman ever had before. A strange sense of uneasiness came over him, but he shrugged it off and concentrated instead on the woman lying underneath him.

Moonlight edged her face in silver, and her hair spread out on his pillow like a silk fan. Her eyes were still heavy with passion, her lips swollen from his kisses. He brushed his mouth over hers lightly, gently nipped her bottom lip.

He knew he was too heavy for her, that she could barely breathe with him on top of her, but he couldn’t bring himself to break the intimacy with her yet. Was afraid that if he did, nothing would seem real. And he needed this to be real. He needed her to be real.

He compromised by rolling to his back and bringing her with him. With a startled gasp, she hung on, then frowned at him while she raked her hair back away from her face. “You could have warned me.”

“Just testing your reflexes.”

“I’ll have you know that I have excellent reflexes, as well as a keen sense of observation and an uncanny eye for details.” She arched one brow and frowned at him. “Maybe you weren’t paying attention.”

“Paying attention to what?”

She tweaked a chest hair, and he grabbed her hand. “Okay, okay.” He rubbed at his chest. “You’ve got great reflexes. Not to mention great legs, great arms, a great rear end—” His gaze dropped to her breasts. “And you’ve got terrific—”

“I get the picture.” She folded her arms on his chest and covered the objects of his attention. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Yeah?” He put his hands behind his head and gave her a cocky grin. “Like what?”

“Well,” she murmured, resting her chin on top of her arms, “you have a nice nose.”

That wasn’t exactly what he’d wanted to hear. “A nice nose?”

“And cute ears.”

“You make me sound like a puppy. Like you just seen me?” He frowned at her. “That’s the best you can do?”

She raised her eyes upward, as if she were thinking. With a low growl, he flipped her onto her back again. Laughing, she went with him easily.

“Maybe your powers of observation and attention to details aren’t as keen as you think,” he said huskily and slowly slid into her. “Maybe we need to test them.”

“A test?” She kept her gaze on his as she drew in a slow, trembling breath. “Essay or multiple choice?”

He smiled slowly, eased himself out, then back in again. “Definitely multiple,” he said, and buried himself deep inside her.

And while emptying his scrotum into her, he w
hispered. "You won over me again, Bella Trump. Let's go to Philadelphia tomorrow"