for him that she was writhing against him like a siren, her breath warm and fast against his skin. Nor himself, either. After all, the damage had already been done and she was pregnant. And if that was a cynical way of looking at it, so what?
He began to explore her body, reacquainting himself with her soft curves and delicious flesh, his fingers sliding over her silky skin. He cupped her breasts in his palms, thinking how full they were—much fuller than last time.
Was that because of the baby?
A rush of something he didn’t recognise roared through his blood but deliberately, he blocked it.
He wasn’t going to think about the baby. The only thing he was going to think about was pleasure.
So he concentrated on employing every sensual skill he had learnt, tempering blatant provocation with the tantalising whisper of soft promise. So that while his rock-hard erection was pushing against her belly, he was kissing her eyelids, her cheeks, her neck and her ears, making her wait until finally he allowed his lips to plunder hers. Was it the little cry of bliss she gave which made him feel as if he were drowning? As if she were drawing him into some unknown place of dark, sweet honey.
‘You are...deliciosa.’
‘Delicious?’ she guessed.
‘You are fluent in Spanish now, are you, Hollie?’ But as she opened her mouth to doubtless make some equally flippant reply, he kissed away the answer, reaching down to slide his finger between her silken folds, enjoying her gasped frustration as he brought her to the edge of orgasm, over and over again. Only when he could bear his own exquisite torture no longer did he position himself to enter her at last—though more slowly and carefully than he had ever done before. And didn’t that make him feel...?
What?
He didn’t know and he didn’t care because his thoughts were being scatter-gunned by Hollie clenching hard around him, her back arching like a bow as she spasmed, and then he too was jerking helplessly in her arms.
For a while there was no sound other than their ragged sighs, and then she drifted her lips to his cheek.
‘Maximo,’ she murmured huskily.
‘Don’t move,’ he instructed unsteadily, because already he was growing hard inside her again. ‘Stay exactly where you are.’
‘I have no intention of going anywhere.’
He gave a soft laugh as he began to move and, while the second time was just as amazing, the third almost defied definition, leaving him gloriously sated and replete.
‘I’ve never done it without protection before,’ he observed after a while, lying back against the rumpled bedclothes, his skin warm with satisfaction.
‘So that’s a first?’
‘Well, by my reckoning, it’s actually the second.’
His head tipped back against the pillow as she giggled and he must have slept, because when next he opened his eyes, the bright light of a winter’s morning had replaced the silvery moonlight of the previous night. He lay there for a moment in silence, aware of Hollie’s head on his shoulder—her hair spread out over his chest like satin. He stared down at the twin crescents of her lashes, dark and feathery against her pink cheeks. Her rosy lips were parted, her breathing slow and steady and he felt a twist of something unknown deep inside him.
She was so damned...unexpected.
He swallowed.
She had surprised him the first time around with her innocence and she had surprised him this time by being so gloriously accessible. Her body had opened up with a delicious familiarity. It was as if she instinctively knew what pleased him—as if they had been designed to fit together perfectly.
What was the matter with him? Almost imperceptibly he shook his head, trying to clear the thoughts which had obviously been skewed by the heady cocktail of hormones which were surging through his bloodstream. But the movement must have woken her, because Hollie’s lashes fluttered open and Maximo found himself dazzled by the light shining from her wide grey eyes. He saw a flicker of confusion cross her face, as if she couldn’t quite work out where she was, or who with—and then her lips curved into a smile which only made him want to kiss her.
‘Happy Christmas!’ she said.
‘And to you,’ he said, his swift smile intended to inform her that he hadn’t had a complete personality change during the night. ‘Hollie—’
‘It’s okay,’ she said quickly, before moving away from him towards the other side of the bed. ‘You don’t have to say a word. I know the score.’
‘You do?’ he questioned.
Hollie