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

Feeling him move over her, she uttered a soft cry of excitement, and then he stroked her with just the tip of his erection, back and forth. Raising her arms above her head, she rested them on the bank of pillows. Reading her wishes, he took her wrists in one big hand while he guided himself inside her with the other.

‘Oh, please,’ she gasped.

‘You’re so small and I’m so big—’

‘Yes,’ she agreed, in a tone that suggested that was great news. ‘More,’ she encouraged as her excitement mounted.

‘You’re so pale, so soft, and your hands are so tiny.’

‘And you’re big in every way,’ she said, remembering the weight of his erection as it flexed against her. ‘And those big hands are the most delicate instruments of pleasure,’ she added as he proved this to be true yet again. She groaned as each touch coloured in yet another frame in her imagination. ‘And now it’s my turn to explore you,’ she insisted, freeing her hands to reach down—only to discover that, as she had suspected, Nacho was built perfectly to scale. One hand wasn’t nearly enough to encompass his girth.

‘Stop!’ he ground out hoarsely.

Bracing her hands against his chest, she waited. And then cried out with shock as he moved. Had she thought she was ready for this? She could never be prepared for this, Grace realised, though Nacho was infinitely careful as he moved steadily deeper. When he inhabited her completely she gripped him fiercely with her muscles, triumphantly claiming him for her own.

‘Good?’ he murmured, brushing her lips with his.

‘Can’t speak,’ she admitted on a shivering breath, wishing she could see the smile she knew would be curving his lips. But when he moved again she couldn’t think, could only feel as she began to move instinctively in time with him.

‘Don’t hold back,’ Nacho advised. ‘Take as much time as you want. Take as much as you want.’

And with his promise in her head she fell with relief into mind-stripping release. Her fingers clawed at his back as she thanked him in words she had never used before.

‘Again?’ Nacho suggested with amusement, when she finally found some sort of holding area.

‘Yes,’ she breathed.

He made it no easier to hold on this time, and she fell the moment he entered her. He had made her greedy. He had made her want him more than ever. He had made her realise that her life from this moment on would be incomplete without Nacho in it.

‘You are a witch,’ he said when she used her muscles to keep him close.

Rocking into her, he drove the breath from her lungs in a muffled cry, and drove on until they both fell violently and gratefully into the darkness, tangled in each other’s arms.

‘Sleep?’ Nacho suggested some time later, when she sucked in a shuddering breath.

A slow, sexy smile curved her lips. ‘Not yet,’ she whispered.

‘Then ride me?’ he suggested.

‘All right. But don’t help me.’

‘I think we’re a long way past that—don’t you, Grace?’

Straddling him, she was turned on all over again by the way her legs were pressed wide by the size of Nacho’s body. But being in control was the best. It felt great. Having his hands on her buttocks helping her to ride him to greater effect felt better still. She threw her head back, basking in sensation. Even now Nacho gave her little more to do than enjoy him. He understood exactly how to increase her pleasure with the subtlest encouragement from the pad of his forefinger as he rocked her back and forth. And thankfully he ignored her when she warned him that she couldn’t hold out for long.

A wail of anticipation left her lips when she realised this was going to be fiercer and stronger than anything she had known so far. When she fell she must have blacked out for a moment, because she came round to find Nacho moving over her to an irresistible beat.

‘Again,’ he growled, and this time it wasn’t a question.

He lost it right there. Sensation compacted into a nuclear force that shot from his core, engulfing him.

‘Are you okay?’ she said, when finally they were quiet again.

‘I’m good,’ he confirmed. ‘You?’

He turned his head on the pillow to stare at Grace. The longing for her to see him had never been greater. He longed for her to know how she made him feel. He longed for her to see. But she couldn’t see.

Cupping her face, he stroked her cheek and kissed her mouth tenderly. ‘You’re a very special woman, Grace. Very special to me.’

‘Unique, I hope,’ she said, smiling in that way she had when she wanted to make light of things so they couldn’t hurt her.

‘You are unique,’ he said fiercely, wanting her to feel his passion. Making love to Grace defied classification. There had to be some new word for it. Sex didn’t even come close. ‘I didn’t hurt you, did I?’ he said, his concern bringing tears in her eyes

‘Only here,’ she said, clutching her chest over her heart. ‘Otherwise I’m fine.’

She said this wryly, with a small smile, and that smile tore at his heart, because he knew Grace would always say she was fine. She didn’t want to be a trouble to anyone. She had probably reassured the doctors on the day they had told her she was going blind. But he guessed Grace bottled up her feelings and brought them out when she was alone to examine, and that thought stabbed him in the heart like a knife.

‘How can you be fine if you’re crying?’ he said gruffly, blotting her tears with his thumb-pad.

‘Because I’m not crying the way you think I am,’ she said.

‘And how is that?’ he said as she turned her head on the pillow so they were facing each other. ‘How many ways are there to cry?’ As he spoke he traced the line of her jaw.

‘You can cry from happiness,’ she said. ‘You can cry from feelings so big you can’t express them in words. You can cry with amazement that anything can be so good.’

‘Are you giving me a compliment?’ he asked with amusement.

‘Maybe,’ she admitted wryly, still defensive, still frightened to commit herself entirely to anything that could bring her hurt. ‘You’re so gentle and caring …’ Her face changed again. ‘And so damn good in bed.’

He laughed as he dragged her close for more kisses.

‘I didn’t think I was capable of making love like that, or even feeling like that,’ she admitted when he let her go.

‘If there’s one thing I’ve learned about you, Señorita Lundström,’ he said, cupping Grace’s chin and tilting her face so he could stare into her misty eyes, ‘it’s that you’re capable of anything you set your mind to. Perhaps this isn’t the right time to say it, but—’

‘But you’re going to say it anyway?’ she guessed.

‘Yes, I am. You’ve changed since we first met, Grace. You’re stronger. You’re more capable and more determined. Because you’ve had to be. I know that.’

‘And because I was completely over-awed by you at the wedding—by everyone there,’ she admitted. ‘I felt so out of my depth. No wonder you thought I was naïve and awkward.’

‘I thought you were beautiful.’

‘Well, I felt like a fool. It was one thing being Lucia’s friend, but being thrown into the type of society you Acostas inhabit—royalty, celebrities …’

‘Who have exactly the same problems the rest of us do,’ he pointed out.

‘Not quite,’ she argued wryly.