Spring Equinox: Celestial Seductions, Book 2 Page 5

  Pleasure stabbed into her with every exquisite stroke, until she was on the brink of climax. She bit into his shoulder, his sweet, salty flesh an erotic sensation in itself against her tongue, and tried to hold back, to linger on that lovely edge. But he drove into her, making anything impossible but coming. And she did, her heart slamming into her ribcage, his cock slamming into her aching pussy. She cried out, trembled with a pleasure so pure she was lost in sensation, lost in him.

  “Rafael! Oh…”

  Before her cries faded he tensed, shuddered, called out her name. She felt the pulsing of orgasm in his cock, in his wild heartbeat against her breasts, in the heat of his body. His panting breath in her ear matched her own as he shook, his hips arching hard into her.

  A few moments passed in which all they did was breathe together. Finally, he raised his head to kiss her: her chin, her cheeks, her forehead. When he kissed her lips she could taste his salty sweat mixed with the musky scent of sex. So sweet, the way he kissed her, a rain of tiny kisses.

  Her heart squeezed in her chest. She closed her eyes, trying not to think, not to feel. But it was hard, with him pressed up against her so tightly, with him still inside her body. How could she fight this surge of wanting, of hope?

  How was she to know if there was anything more between them than this lovely, surreal moment? If this was meant to be something stronger, more lasting than the amazing sex, the two of them living out a faded dream? Could she use the yearning in her heart as her guide, trust herself, trust him?

  Only time would truly tell. But they didn’t have time. They had only this one week together before she had to return to the States to begin a new life, whatever that might be. One week, possibly another if she extended her trip, but she couldn’t linger here indefinitely with no plans, no direction for her future. Would this time together be enough?

  Her body told her to stay with him, whatever the cost, whatever the risk to her heart. Her mind told her she was being rash, foolish. She had no idea who would win this battle. She only knew that she was lost to him again already.

  Chapter Five

  They moved through the crowds in the Plaza Bolivar in the village of Porlamar, one of the larger towns on Isla de Margarita, a short ride down the coast from Playa de la Luna. Rafael had a hand on the small of her back, guiding her. The gesture was protective, sweet. What was it about his merest touch that made her blood heat and made her feel treasured all at the same time?

  She’d felt this way since she’d arrived a week ago. Treasured and catered to, desired and in such a state of constant craving for him they barely made it out of bed each day.

  He’d made love to her slowly, and it was lovely and romantic. He’d fucked her hard and fast in the caves, in his bed, in the shower, using his hands, his cock, his mouth. He’d used her ass, too, used his vibrator on her, had her use it on him. Neither could get enough. She loved that they could have it both ways: the romance and the pure, animal sex.

  There were days when Rafael had to leave for a few hours at a time to work, and she’d lounge on the beach, reading, watching the ocean. Dreaming of what could be.

  They’d talked about everything—their work, their families, their friends.

  They hadn’t talked again about how long she would stay.

  She’d changed her plane ticket after that first night together, extended her stay for a week, but it wasn’t going to be enough time for them to decide anything. How could it be?

  But she was there with him now, on this beautiful day, in this beautiful place. The early afternoon sun was soft on her skin as Rafael led her past shops selling baskets, jewelry, gorgeously painted pottery, past the beautiful domed church of St. Nicholas. The architecture was old Spain and the colors of the Caribbean, stucco and ironwork and flowers blooming everywhere in reds, corals, yellow, shaded by the towering palm trees. On low benches old men played eternal games of chess, and here and there young men sat beneath a tree or strolled the plaza, playing a cuatro, the small guitar so common in Venezuela. The air was like silk, warm and smooth and moist.

  Like sex.

  God, he was turning her into a nymphomaniac. No man had ever affected her the way Rafael did, on so many levels. He was tireless. Insatiable. So was she.

  Rafael slid his hand up her back to her bare shoulders.

  “Here, this is the place.”

  He opened a door and took her into a small jewelry shop. It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust.

  It was a tiny space with wooden floors, the walls painted a soft pink. Glass cases held lovely pieces of silver, gold, precious stones. Rafael went right to the counter, where an older woman greeted him.

  “Hola, Señor Cruz.”

  He spoke with her a moment quietly in Spanish. The woman smiled, then disappeared for a moment into a back room.

  “Rafael, what are we doing here?”

  “You will see in a moment, querida.”

  The woman reappeared, put something into Rafael’s hand. He nodded his head. “Perfecto. Gracias. ”

  He turned to Isabel with a smile on his face. Taking her hand, he led her to the counter to stand in front of a long mirror. He moved behind her, leaned in and whispered into her ear, “I had this made for you.”

  Then he lifted her hair and laid the cool silver of a long, sleek metal chain around her neck. She looked down. A large, square-cut emerald pendant hung between her breasts, the simplicity of the setting showing off the glorious stone.

  “Rafael, what have you done? This is too much.”

  He fastened the clasp, laid a light kiss on the back of her neck, sending a chill of desire down her spine. “It matches your eyes exactly.”

  Behind her, he smiled at her in the mirror. He seemed so pleased, she couldn’t argue with him further. Her heart surged at the look in his eyes—pride, tenderness, adoration.

  She raised a hand, brushed her fingers over the beautiful stone.

  “When did you have time to do this?”

  “When I was supposed to be at work. I ordered it the day after you arrived. I wanted you to have it.”

  “Thank you. It’s so beautiful.”

  Behind the glass counter the old woman smiled and nodded as though the whole thing had been her idea.

  Isabel sniffed, a series of emotions racing through her.

  “Ah, Isabella, don’t cry. We’re celebrating.”

  “What are we celebrating?”

  “Being together once more. This day, the sun and whatever tomorrow will bring.” He stroked a finger over her cheek.

  She turned to face him. “And what will tomorrow bring?”

  “That’s the beauty of life, querida. We never know.”

  There it was, despite his lovely gift—his dismissal of the future, and her place in it. She was so confused. Was it simply that he was someone who lived in the moment? Or was he happy enough to spend a week or two with her, then no more? She wasn’t sure what his gift meant, to him, anyway. She knew what it meant to her. That he had thought of her, that he had done something to make her happy. But he did that every day, in small ways.

  “You look so thoughtful, Isabella. Do you like it?”

  “I love it. It’s gorgeous. I’ll wear it every day.”

  He leaned in closer, said quietly, “I can’t wait to see you in nothing but this emerald. You should always be dressed in emeralds.”

  God, just his voice made her shiver with need for him.

  They spent the day shopping, ate an early dinner at a small restaurant where Rafael knew the owners, then drove back up the coast in his Jeep to Playa de la Luna. The sun was setting in a burst of fiery color, lighting the sky in shades of gold and pink when he opened the door to his casita.

  He immediately pulled her into his arms. “I’m hungry, Isabella,” he growled.

  “What?” She laughed. “We just ate.”

  “I’ve had plenty of food, but I haven’t had you for hours. Come and let me feast on you.”

  Her lim
bs went liquid, heat racing through her system, her bikini panties instantly damp. All she could say was a murmured, “Yes.”

  He was lowering his mouth to hers once more when there was a knock at the door.

  Rafael lifted his head.

  “I should get that. I’m sorry.” He paused, brushed one of her hard nipples with a fingertip. “You have no idea how sorry.”

  “Oh yes, I do.”

  He grinned at her before turning away.

  She took a step back, nodded, tried to catch her breath as Rafael opened the door.

  “Carlos.”

  His friend clapped him on the back, then pulled away.

  “Hey, Rafael. I came a little early. I knew you wouldn’t mind. Ah, I’ve interrupted you. My apologies. But you must introduce us.”

  Carlos stepped around Rafael and took Isabel’s hand in his. He looked just as he did in the pictures she’d seen on Rafael’s shelves. He was shorter than Rafael, all hard-packed muscle under golden brown skin. His black hair was a closely shaved stubble, his wide mouth framed by a dark goatee. He had an easy smile and coal-black eyes, a handsome, friendly face. And his big hand, warm on hers, was making her go hot all over.

  What is wrong with you?

  Was it this man, or the fact that Rafael already had her on edge when Carlos had arrived?

  “Carlos Vélaz, this is Isabel Asher,” Rafael said.

  “So this is Isabel? The Isabel.” Carlos kept her hand in his as he turned to Rafael. “You’re right. She is beautiful.”

  “Yes, she is.”

  Rafael smiled at her, his gaze on hers for a moment.

  “Thank you. Both of you. It’s so good to meet you, Carlos.”

  “And you. Rafael’s told me so much about you over the years. I feel as though I already know you.”

  “Oh, I…”

  Rafael had been talking about her? She didn’t know what to say. She glanced at him, and he smiled at her before turning back to his friend.

  “Carlos, are you tired from the trip?” Rafael asked. “Let me get you a room, some dinner.”

  “I’ve eaten already, but I could use a drink.”

  “Let’s go to the bar, then. I’ll leave you two to talk while I arrange for your room. Is that all right, Isabella?”

  “Of course.”

  Her body still burning, she followed the two men to the bar, where Rafael ordered before leaving them at a quiet booth in the back.

  Carlos looked at her, holding his beer glass. “Rafael told me your story years ago. I have to admit, I can’t believe you’re here, so many years later.”

  “Neither can I sometimes. And you…Rafael says you’ve been friends forever.”

  He grinned. “Almost.”

  “Do you know his family?”

  “I know his mother well. I knew his father briefly. They’re good people. But you already know that from the time you spent here.”

  “Yes. They were always good to me.”

  “I’m sorry I interrupted your time with Rafael. I was supposed to come next month, but my work schedule changed and I thought I’d surprise him. I’ll try to stay out of your way.”

  “Oh, no. You’re here to see him.”

  “I can see him any time. I’m comfortable here on the island, I can find my way around. How long are you here for?”

  “I…I don’t know.”

  He nodded, accepting her answer. If only she could feel so blasé about it.

  Rafael returned, sliding into the booth next to her, the heat of his body instantly reassuring. “You’ll have the bungalow next to mine, Carlos.”

  “Excellent.”

  “How long will you be here?”

  “I have two weeks, but we’ll play it by ear.” He glanced at Isabel.

  “Oh, no, you don’t have to cut your trip short because of me.”

  Was it wrong of her to wish he would? She wanted—needed—this time with Rafael.

  He shrugged, smiled. “You’re very gracious, Isabel. But we’ll see.”

  They spent the evening talking, the two men telling stories of their college days, the adventures they’d had traveling together all over the world. They’d been to Brazil together, Costa Rica, all over Europe, and their stories were fascinating and funny, revealing the close relationship between the two friends. Carlos had an easy-going way about him, an open friendliness that made him comfortable to be with. She was distracted by her attraction to him, by the sleek motion of muscle in his forearms, his beautiful, warm smile. And something about the way the two men interacted, their utter ease together, was erotic to her.

  She must simply be in a state of enduring arousal from her week with Rafael. Any man would seem attractive to her now, with her body so on edge. Didn’t people say that the more sex you had, the more you wanted? She could believe it now. Her appetite for sex had become insatiable.

  It was midnight before Rafael glanced at his watch. They’d all had more than a little to drink, the men sipping their beer all night, Isabel the dark red wine from Chile Rafael had introduced her to.

  “It’s getting late,” Rafael said finally.

  He looked at Carlos and the two men exchanged a glance that seemed to hold some meaning. She couldn’t figure it out. But she was relaxed enough from the wine that it didn’t seem to matter. Some private thing between two old friends.

  Carlos nodded, smiled. “It is.”

  “I’m sure you’d like to get some rest,” Rafael said.

  “I’m not too tired.”

  Rafael watched Carlos’s face closely. He understood exactly what his friend was asking. The two had shared women before, many times. Carlos wanted to know if Isabel would be interested in him joining them in bed.

  It had always been thrilling for Rafael, a sort of male bonding for the two of them. But Isabel was different than other women, wasn’t she?

  He didn’t want her to mean so much to him. Not if she decided after this time with him that she wasn’t interested in more. She hadn’t said so, hadn’t even hinted. He’d spent the week wondering if this was nothing more than a fling for her after her divorce. She was obviously a sexual creature, had hinted to him of her sexual adventures. He had no idea if this visit to Isla de Margarita meant anything more than that.

  There had been a few moments…but he didn’t trust himself to evaluate things objectively. He wanted too much for her to want to stay with him.

  Far too much.

  Maybe this would be a way to distance himself. To draw some emotional line. To regain his perspective. So that when she left, it wouldn’t hurt so much. And if she was into it, why shouldn’t he be? He’d always found sharing a woman with Carlos to be exciting as hell. A little wild. Erotic. Why not Isabel?

  He took her hand, raised it to his lips, and kissed the soft skin of her palm. He felt her shiver beside him as he looked into her eyes. They were glossy in the dim light of the bar. She licked her lips, and he leaned in and brushed them with his.

  Oh yes, she was ready. Turned on. He knew that look.

  He looked at Carlos, gave a subtle nod of his head. “We’ll see you later, Carlos.”

  Carlos smiled. “Yes, you will.”

  Rafael stood, leaned over Isabel and drew her hand to his lips, kissed the back of it. He felt once more that small shiver of desire in her body and sensed she would be open to having Carlos join them.

  Carlos turned and left the bar.

  “Shall we go to my room, Isabella?”

  She leaned into him, her breast pressing against his arm. “Yes. Please.”

  Her gaze was fevered, her lips plush. His cock was hardening simply thinking about having her again.

  He helped her up from the booth and together they walked across the patio to his casita. The night was warm, the air fragrant with the scent of the ocean and the flowers that grew in profusion everywhere. Heady with the promise of sex.

  He opened the door, and they went inside. Immediately he kissed her, his lips coming down on hers, opening
them with his tongue. He slipped in, tasting the sweetness of the wine, the sweetness that was Isabel. He was hard as steel. He pulled her close, felt the stiff points of her nipples against his chest through his linen shirt. Her body was going loose all over, and the heat coming off her was incredible. She was panting into his mouth when there was a knock on the door, and he pulled back.

  “Isabella, that’s Carlos.”

  Her lips parted, her mouth opening in a small O.

  “I asked him to come. To join us.”

  She paused for a moment, but her cheeks were flushed, her eyes glittering with desire. There was no mistaking it. “I see.”

  He stroked her cheek gently. “Nothing has to happen unless you want it to. We both understand that, he and I. Do you find him attractive?”

  “Yes.”

  He smiled at her. “And is this something you’ve done before?”

  “No. But it’s something I’ve always wanted to do.”

  She was really breathless now, her cheeks burning, her eyes glowing with a fine green fire.

  “You want this, Isabella? To be with both of us tonight?”

  She bit her lip, but there was passion there, not uncertainty.

  “Yes. I want it.”

  Chapter Six

  He opened the door, and Carlos stood in the doorway, a small smile on his face, a bottle of wine in his hand.

  “I come bearing gifts.” His dark gaze was on hers, his eyes glittering, nearly black. Beautiful. “Do you accept, Isabel?”

  She nodded, hardly believing this was about to happen, another long-held fantasy. And who better to experience this with than Rafael, a man she trusted more than any other.