The Gold Collection: Taming The Argentinian: A Taste of the Untamed / The Untamed Argentinian / Taming the Last Acosta

‘Nothing,’ she lied, burrowing her face in his chest. ‘I’m just trying to get something straight in my head.’

‘And have you?’

Lifting her chin, she wished that she could see Nacho—so she could read him, so she could know him completely.

Feeling overwhelmed him when Grace reached for him. He was filled with a fierce determination to keep her safe and bring her pleasure.

Could those two things exist side by side?

‘You taste of fruit,’ she said, smiling as she kissed his shoulder. ‘Kiss me,’ she demanded fiercely, moving beneath him.

Grace’s strength was what attracted him, he realised, that and her matchless femininity. Her face was radiant and her hair was tumbling around her shoulders in a billowing cloud. Moving it out of the way, he kissed her neck, before moving down the bed to rasp his stubble very lightly against the soft swell of her belly. Feeling her tremble, he kissed her again and she groaned, arching her hips as she searched for relief for the ache inside her. She tasted better than he remembered. She tasted of warmth and of woman and of Grace—unique and strong. Stripping her skirt off, he tossed it away. Her top followed. Now there was just a tiny lace thong between them. But he attended to her breasts first, suckling and relishing the taste of Grace and grape juice combined. When he lifted his head she allowed her thighs to part, as if she wanted him to see her arousal.

‘How long must I wait?’ she demanded, groaning in complaint.

‘As long as I decide you must wait,’ he said, enjoying the pleasure-pain as her fingers bit into his arms.

But she hadn’t finished with him yet, and with an angry sound of frustration went straight for the button on his jeans. They were soon off, but he pinned her to the bed as she panted beneath him.

He had always thought sex should be fun, but this was the first time he had encountered a woman who could remotely match his appetite. ‘Okay,’ he said with amusement, somehow managing to keep her still. ‘You win.’

‘I don’t want to win,’ she said. ‘At least not this game.’

This new Grace was free to be as provocative as she liked—free to express her feelings in a way she would never have dared to do before—and that made anything possible. The sensations she was experiencing in the darkness were dazzling.

Instead of moving she remained quite still. She wanted to remember every moment of this—Nacho’s thigh brushing her just where she needed him, the intense little pleasure spasms engulfing her. He was a master of the art of seduction and she was a most willing pupil. Nacho knew exactly what he was doing, and was totally switched on to her needs as he prepared her for the ultimate pleasure.

‘You’re so cruel,’ she complained on a shuddering breath as he talked to her in Spanish, no doubt promising all sorts of excess.

She exhaled with excitement, feeling the proof of his arousal rest heavy against her leg. He was massive. She had always known he would be. But when she begged him not to prolong the torture he only laughed.

‘I’m being kind,’ he assured her in a husky whisper.

He had never known a woman to be so full of desire. When Grace rested in his arms, throwing her head back as she was doing now to drag in air, he wanted nothing more than to pin her to the bed and pound into her until they both fell back exhausted. But when she ran those tiny hands across his chest, when she traced the line of his shoulders with a touch so light, all he wanted to do was to treat her exactly as she had asked him not to—like cut glass. No woman had ever seduced him with touch alone, but Grace could. She had magic in her hands and something equally potent in her lovely, lust-drenched face.

‘Nacho?’ she whispered, sensing the change in him.

The past had intruded without warning, and it had come between them in the ugliest way. Throwing himself back on the pillows he wondered how he could even think of doing this.

‘Nacho, what’s wrong?’

‘What’s wrong?’ he said. ‘You’re not afraid of me, are you, Grace?’

‘Of course I’m not afraid of you. Why would I be?’

Because I destroy people, he thought. Because I can never give you what you want.

Grace frowned with concern—for him. Since the tragedy he had always known it was his duty to devote his life to family and to the vast territories they owned, and that he must remain free of personal ties so that he could never hurt anyone again.

‘I think you’ve forgotten me,’ Grace murmured.

He turned to look at her distractedly, and then she touched him—not just with her hands, but with her indomitable will.

‘Have you forgotten why you brought me here?’ she said, teasing him with a smile.

‘Forgotten you?’ The past fell away as he stared at her. ‘How could I ever forget you?’ he murmured dryly.

‘That’s what I hoped you’d say,’ she said, stroking him in a way that made him forget everything.

‘Tell me what you remember about me.’

‘I remember you sluicing down in the yard,’ she said. ‘I remember your arms—so sexy, hard and muscular.’

‘My arms are sexy?’ he said, his lips pressing down as he considered this information.

‘Especially if they pin me down,’ she said.

‘Is that a hint?’

Grace’s slender shoulders eased in a shrug. ‘What do you think?’

Kneeling between her legs, he eased the tiny lace thong down over Grace’s hips.

‘What are you going to do?’ she asked.

Surprised by the question, he was silenced for a moment—but then he realised Grace was in darkness, trusting him to keep her safe. ‘I’m going to feast on you and make you scream,’ he said.

She laughed. ‘See that you do,’ she said.

His hunger was raging out of control, but he had only teased her with the lightest of kisses when she cried out, ‘Stop! I can’t—’

‘Hold on?’ he supplied as she bucked beneath him.

‘That’s your fault,’ she complained, still lost in pleasure as she gasped.

‘I blame myself entirely,’ he agreed dryly. ‘More?’

‘Of course,’ she said.

Nacho was amazing. Shouldn’t one tumultuous climax be enough for her? Shouldn’t that have quietened the hunger inside her at least for a while? Instead it had grown, and with it her fantasies of what Nacho might do or make her feel next had exploded into endless possibility.

When she quietened he made some suggestions that turned her on beyond belief. ‘Like this?’ she said.

‘Exactly like that,’ Nacho confirmed when she drew her knees back.

‘You like looking at me?’ she guessed.

‘I love looking at you,’ he countered.