Page 29 of Cinderella's One-Night Baby

Foam clinging to parts of her, she got to her knees and sloshed through the water to straddle Andrés’s lap. Emptying the last of the second champagne bottle into their flutes, she clinked hers to his and drank it in one go. Aroused amusement on his face, Andrés followed suit.

Both flutes empty, she placed them next to the empty bottles on the low fitted cupboard that ran behind where his head rested, then placed her hands on his chest and leaned her face down to his.

She was drunk she realised, drunk on alcohol and drunk on Andrés.

Holding his cheeks, she kissed him deeply, and welcomed the glorious sensations that roared to life with the fusion of their mouths and tongues, sensations strong enough to drive out all thought and give them the moment for what it was. Pleasure.

For the first time Gabrielle really understood what she’d committed to missing when she’d committed herself to a lifetime of celibacy.

Intimacy and pleasure. All the things most people her age took for granted.

And emotional connection.

It was the latter she suspected she would feel the most bereft to leave when she walked out of this apartment.

Whether the desire consuming her would have sparked to life with anyone else was pointless in trying to guess, but she knew in her heart that the magical alchemy that had enveloped them so completely was a one-off, and she would take every ounce of the pleasure and connection they could share with each other until the time came to say goodbye, because she would never have any of this again.

That time was speeding towards them.

Dragging her mouth over the bristles of Andrés’s beard, she slipped her fingers around his head to clasp his skull and lifted herself so he could take a breast into his mouth.

Hands trailing up and down her spine, his hungry mouth and tongue working their magic, Gabrielle threw her head back and lost herself to the heady sensations. The burn deep in her core pulsed strongly, and she ground herself against the hard thick length of Andrés’s arousal, her body instinctively seeking the hedonistic sensations of relief only he could provide, and it was without any conscious thought whatsoever that she lifted herself enough to sink down on his length.

‘God... Gabrielle...’ The last conscious part of Andrés tried to cut through...holy Dios...the pleasure of being completely bare inside her...and he’d thought the pleasure he’d found with her already had been the pinnacle... When her glazed eyes met his and thick spasms gripped him as her beautiful mouth parted to release the cries of her climax, he only just held on to that last wisp of consciousness to lift her off him.

He caught the confusion on her face before her eyes glittered, and, still straddling his lap, she wrapped her fingers around his arousal and brought him to his own climax.

Gabrielle’s eyes flickered open to early sunlight. Andrés’s arm was hooked around her belly, a leg draped over her thigh, his breathing deep and rhythmic.

There was a dull ache pounding in her head. It had nothing on the heavy pounding in her chest.

She looked at her watch. Seven thirty a.m.

Tears prickled her eyes.

The night was over. It was time to go.

Carefully moving his arm off her, she slid away from his leg and sat up. The throbbing in her head even more acute, she looked around the vast room for something to cover herself.

A black towelling robe hung on the back of a door. She padded gingerly to it and slipped it on.

It smelled of Andrés. Its size drowned her.

Her chest filling, she crept out of the bedroom and into the bathroom opposite.

Her dress was neatly folded on a chair she barely remembered seeing before, shoes and clutch bag beside it. Andrés’s discarded clothes, the champagne bottle and flutes had all vanished. The bathroom was as sparkling as it had been when she’d first set foot in it.

It was as if what they’d shared in there had never happened.

But ithadhappened, she thought, a sad smile pulling on her lips to remember just how amazing it had been.

She pulled the heavy velvet up to her waist, blinking more tears away.

Only when she’d put her arm through the sleeve and zipped the dress up did she allow herself to look in the full-length mirror. Her reflection shocked her. She’d expected to look different, that what she and Andrés had shared would have marked her in some obvious way, but it was still her face looking back at her.

She felt different. Changed.

Changed or not, she had her real life to return to where nothing had changed.

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