Heir To His Legacy: His Unexpected Legacy / His Instant Heir / One Night Heir. Chantelle Shaw

unfinished business between them.

      Kristen was perched on the very edge of the sofa, as tense and watchful as a nervous gazelle poised to flee. But she had not pulled her wrist from his grasp, and when he glanced at her she swept her long lashes down a fraction too late to hide the hunger in her eyes.

      ‘Tesoro...’ he murmured.

      ‘Don’t!’ The endearment felt like an arrow through Kristen’s heart. She jerked to her feet but stumbled on her high heels and fell against Sergio as he leapt up and caught her in his arms. ‘Let me go.’ It was a cry from her soul, but he ignored the husky plea and swept her against him, tangling one hand in her hair as he lowered his head and captured her soft, tremulous mouth.

      His second kiss was deeper and sweeter than the first, drugging Kristen’s senses and breaking through her defences so that she sagged against him while he worked his magic. She could hear her blood thundering in her ears, and when she laid her hands on his chest she could feel his heart beating with the same frantic rhythm as her own. The realisation that she had such a strong effect on him was somehow comforting, and with a low moan she slid her hands to his shoulders and kissed him with all the wild passion that had been locked inside her since they had parted.

      This was madness. Kristen’s mind whirled as the walls of the room spun when Sergio lifted her into his arms. She knew she should stop him, especially when she opened her eyes and discovered that he had carried her into his bedroom. The sight of a vast bed draped with a black satin bedspread should have rung alarm bells in her head. But when he sank down onto the mattress, still cradling her in his arms, and sought her mouth once more, it seemed so right and so natural to part her lips and allow his tongue to probe between them in an erotic exploration that stole her breath.

      How many nights had she dreamed of Sergio making love to her? Kristen wasn’t sure if this was really happening. It seemed impossible that her most intimate fantasies were coming true, but as his mouth plundered her lips, demanding her ever more passionate response, everything faded and there was just this man and this moment in time when the universe stopped.

       CHAPTER THREE

      ‘LA MIA BELLA Kristen!’ Sergio murmured huskily.

      The unexpected tenderness in his voice drove the lingering doubts from Kristen’s mind. He had called her his beautiful Kristen and the fire in his eyes, the hard glitter of sexual need that he made no attempt to hide, made her feel beautiful. Caught up in a dream world, he was the only reality and she clung to him, curling her arms around his neck to prevent him from lifting his mouth from hers. His dark hair felt like silk as she shaped his skull with her fingertips, and when she moved her hand to his jaw the faint shadow of growth felt abrasive against her palm.

      His hands were equally busy tracing restlessly over her arms, shoulders, the length of her spine, as if he was reacquainting himself with her body by touch. When he stroked his fingertips lightly across her breasts the sensation was so intense that she could not hold back a soft cry of pleasure. It had been so long since she had felt the sweet stirring of sexual desire but now it coursed through her veins, heating her blood so that her cheeks grew flushed and she felt boneless and utterly wanton.

      Somehow, without realising that they had moved, Kristen found herself lying flat on her back and Sergio was tugging at the buttons on her blouse.

      He cursed. ‘The patience of a saint is required to undo these damned things. And I have never professed to piety,’ he growled as he gripped the hem of her blouse and pushed it up to her neck.

      Her bra was made of sheer, stretchy material that offered no resistance when Sergio tugged the cups down to expose her naked breasts. As far as Kristen was concerned her small breasts had never been her best feature, but his breath hissed between his teeth as he stared down at her. ‘Your body is perfetto,’ he said thickly. He touched her nipples delicately, almost reverently, creating starbursts of pleasure that grew stronger as he rolled the tight nubs between his fingers until they were as hard as pebbles.

      A fiery path shot down Kristen’s body and unerringly found the heart of her femininity. She felt the moistness between her legs and squeezed her thighs together to try to ease the ache of need that throbbed insistently there. Her nipples felt hot and swollen from Sergio’s ministrations, and when he replaced his fingers with his mouth and laved each rosy peak with his tongue she gasped in delight at the magic he was creating, and felt herself sinking deeper into a swirling black vortex of pleasure.

      He kissed her mouth again, a hard, fierce kiss that lacked his earlier tenderness as raw, primitive need took over and set its own urgent demands. Kristen recognised Sergio’s hunger and shared it. He was her man, her master, and her body was impatient to feel him inside her. Her fingers scrabbled with his shirt buttons and a tremor ran through her when she parted the silk and skimmed her hands over his naked torso, revelling in the feel of his satiny skin that gleamed olive-gold in the lamplight.

      His chest was covered in whorls of dark hair that arrowed over his flat abdomen and disappeared beneath the waistband of his trousers. She trailed her fingertips down his body and caught her breath when she felt the swollen length of his arousal. A memory of his powerful manhood driving into her was almost enough to make her come before he had even touched her intimately, and he must have sensed her desperation for he groaned something in a harsh tone as he caught hold of the hem of her skirt and shoved it up to her waist.

      Kristen wished she was wearing prettier underwear rather than a pair of plain white briefs and nude-coloured tights that were surely a passion-killer. But of course she hadn’t dressed for her meeting with Sergio with seduction in mind. Reality made an unwelcome reappearance into her dream world, and she froze. Was she mad? For the past four years she had schooled herself to believe that she was over Sergio and he meant nothing to her, but within an hour of meeting him again she was lying half-naked on his bed and he was about to...

      What he was about to do became very clear as he knelt above her and undid his zip. Kristen’s heart lodged in her throat as she watched him drag his trousers and boxers down his thighs to reveal his massive erection. His body was magnificent, a powerhouse of muscle and sinew that at this moment was primed to give and receive sexual pleasure.

      Apprehension and doubt faded as she sank back into her dream world. Reality had no place here tonight. This was one stolen night of pleasure to repay her for all the lonely nights when she had huddled in bed, dry-eyed because the ache inside her went too deep for tears. Sergio’s desire for her, the proof of which was jabbing impatiently between her legs, made her feel like the carefree girl she had been when she had met him. Making love with him then had been uncomplicated—passion in its purest form—without the baggage of hopes and expectations that had come later.

      ‘Cara, it has to be now,’ Sergio groaned. Dull colour seared along his razor-edge cheekbones. ‘You unman me,’ he said harshly. ‘You are the only woman to ever make me lose control.’

      Good, Kristen wanted to tell him. You are the only man, full stop. She did not want to think of him having sex with other women. It was easier not to think at all, just to feel, to touch and taste him and absorb the essence of his raw masculinity. When he peeled her tights and knickers down she lifted her hips to aid him and opened her legs as he stroked his finger over her opening before slipping it into her slick warmth. She was on fire instantly and gave a little moan as he moved his hand rhythmically and brought her swiftly to the brink.

      ‘Sergio...’ She whispered his name like a prayer, a plea, unable to deny her need. She wondered why he hesitated until she saw him slide a condom over his arousal, and then he moved over her and pushed her legs wider apart as he positioned himself and eased slowly forward so that the tip of his shaft pushed into her silken folds.

      The sensation of him possessing her inch by incredible inch, and pausing to allow her unused muscles to stretch and accommodate him, was almost too good to bear. Kristen’s heart was pounding, not only with the pleasure he was inducing but with a fierce joy that went beyond the physical experience of making love with him. Her breath left her on a soft sigh that brought