The Spaniard's Pleasurable Vengeance. Lucy Monroe

choked out.

      His hands were on the hem of her gray knit dress, the smocking over her chest that she’d always considered cute and comfortable, now confining against sensitized flesh and peaked nipples. He pulled the dress up and over her head without another word and she let him, the cuffs on the three-quarter-length sleeves catching for a breathless second on her hands, leaving her blinded by fabric and vulnerable before him.

      “Bella,” he husked out as the dress finally disappeared, giving her a renewed view of Baz. Heated espresso eyes burned her with their intensity as his gaze ate her up. “You are a surprise.”

      Again with the beautiful. Randi had reason to be glad she’d learned Spanish in order to communicate with the children whom she assumed would come through her office at social services for which it was their first language.

      Only belatedly did she realize what exactly had him surprised, and apparently mesmerized. “My sister likes shopping at the lingerie store.”

      “And she takes you with her?” he asked as he made no effort to hide his fascination with her breasts covered by a sheer lift bra and the matching panties that allowed him to see the soft brown curls at the apex of her thighs, the fabric a pearlescent gossamer.

      Under the perfectly opaque fabric of her dress, she could wear whatever sexy underwear she liked and never considered someone else seeing them. “They remind me I’m a sexual being.”

      A reminder she had needed very badly before tonight.

      “I assure you, no one else could forget.”

      “Right.” She didn’t have her sister’s generous curves, Randi’s own body as subtle in its femininity as she was shy.

      “You doubt me?” He indicated the rampant erection barely contained by his boxers. “You think I do this kind of thing with every woman I meet?”

      Another blush heated her skin, but desire made her even hotter. “No, I don’t doubt you want me. I want you, too.”

      “Then let’s get your boots off and you into bed.”

      She couldn’t feel awkward standing there in her brown, nearly flat-heeled boots that reached her knees, and nothing else besides the diaphanous underwear. Not with the approval glowing in his dark gaze.

      “You like this look?” she couldn’t help teasing with a cant to her hips.

      “Very much, but I believe you will be more comfortable without footwear.”

      She nodded. Even in her current state, she’d feel all kinds of wrong climbing onto the luxurious bed with her shoes on.

      They made quick work of her boots and then she was on her back, on the bed.

      Baz pulled off her panties, his gaze fixed firmly on the triangle of curls hiding her most sensitive flesh. “I love the sexy lingerie, but full access is even more exciting.”

      Feeling embarrassed for the first time, she put her hand over herself. “I used to wax.”

      “I prefer this. Did you know if I touch you carefully, like so...” He gently pulled her hand away before his fingertips barely brushed over the tips of her private curls. “You will feel it deep inside.”

      She couldn’t help the arch upward, or the gasp of pleasure as his caress made truth out of his words. Really? Her hair was an erogenous zone, and quite an effective one. Desire ran rampant through her blood, every nerve ending on high alert for the barest touch from him.

      “You are beautiful here.” No question, from where he was looking and the brush of his fingers, what he was talking about.

      “That...you...” She wanted to deny the words, deny that he could find her most intimate place beautiful. “That’s for touching, not looking.”

      He got off the bed, stripped off his boxers and indicated his very hard, very big—at least in her experience—and very obvious erection. “You do not get turned on seeing my sex?”

      Why was he asking her this? “You’re awfully blunt.” But she couldn’t move her gaze away from tumescent flesh and knew deep in her heart that seeing it soft would be no less arousing.

      His expression dared her to deny his words.

      She wasn’t a liar. “Yes, seeing you excites me. A lot.” But she hadn’t realized it would, hadn’t thought of herself as a visual person when it came to sex.

      “And looking at you, the very part of yourself you hold most private, inflames me.” His accent had thickened, lending a warm Latin lilt to his words.

      He rejoined her on the bed, straddling her thighs, his erection pressed against her sensitized mound.

      He ran a finger along the bit of exposed breast above the top of her bra. “Muy guapa.”

      “I’m...” More compliments to her body. How was she supposed to take them?

      The way Baz was with her, his touches and words, was so outside her experience in the bedroom—what little there was of it.

      Randi gasped as he cupped both her breasts with his hands, rubbing expertly against her already hard and tight nipples through the silky fabric. “Glad. I’m glad.”

      “Good to know.” His expression was all approval. “You are so responsive.”

      “I never have been.”

      His eyes narrowed as if he was thinking, his head cocked a little. “You aren’t very experienced, are you?”

      “You told me you didn’t want to hear about other men.”

      “The lack thereof in your past is an unexpected turn-on.”

      “It is?” she gasped out as his ministrations to her breasts sent sensation zinging straight to the core of her.

      “Yes.”

      “Unexpected?”

      “As a rule, I stay away from women lacking in experience.”

      He wanted lovers who could keep up with him and maybe knew the score. Right? She understood that. And was doing her best to keep that score in mind, no matter how devastating his touch.

      A billionaire Spanish businessman wasn’t going to keep a social worker from her family background, even if he did want more than one night. She did, too, so that was okay. Right?

      She wasn’t going to fall in love with this sexy man.

      She wasn’t.

      “But not me,” she confirmed.

      “No. Not you. You, I want.”

      “I want you, too.”

      He leaned down and kissed her then, his tongue demanding entrance almost immediately. She gave it to him, reveling in how he took control of her body and the kiss. She’d never wanted to give herself this way, to let a man touch her like she was his.

      Randi’s characteristic cling to independence and self-control, no matter the situation, was conspicuously absent, though.

      His hands were all over her body, touching spots she had no idea could be erogenous, but which had her repeatedly arching up off the bed, seeking more. She wanted to touch him, too, but somehow every time she went to caress him, she lost her focus and her hands ended up resting against his chest, kneading like a cat with her short nails.

      He seemed to like that, groaning against her lips, moving his body to spread her legs and press his erection firmly against her most tender flesh. Randi went taut with pleasure as he somehow managed to maneuver his erection against her clitoris in mock coupling, thrusting against her and stimulating her so well she cried out with the joy of it.

      Randi gasped out her pleasure at the amazing feeling. “Baz! Oh...” It was too good, too much, her body racking with shudders of ecstasy.