Page 84 of Midnight Surrender to the Spaniard

She took a breath and was honest. ‘I love it. It’s so beautiful...’

‘Like you.’

He took it out of the box and smoothed back her hair, lifting it away from her neck. She felt the cool weight of the egg nestle between her breasts as he fastened the clasp. It was the most romantic gift—a little time capsule of their week together that she could wear, or put away and just take out sometimes...

‘Thank you, Sebastián.’ She leant in and kissed him lightly, feeling his warm lips on hers, and then the slide of his tongue.

She would never understand how he could kiss her in a way that felt so close to the perfect goodbye...how he could take her by the hand down to his cabin...

His suite was exquisite, the most private place on the yacht, the closest she could ever get to the centre of his world, and here he kissed her as if they weren’t saying goodbye...as if he loved her.

And Anna kissed him back with deep passion...because she loved him.

He removed the straps from her shoulders and slid down her dress. ‘You look...’

He took in the changes their week had made, the white breasts where her bikini had stayed firmly on. They made him smile, and as his hand dusted over her nipples and then stroked her stomach she closed her eyes to the sensation.

‘Sunkissed,’ was his verdict.

She wasSebastián-kissed, she corrected mentally. Because it wasn’t just the sun that had wreaked changes in Anna. It was a week of being made love to, of moments lying together on a beach or in bed, or on a lounger, just talking,

All she had missed out on in life so far he had given her in spades. And yet, selfishly perhaps, for Anna it still wasn’t enough.

He kissed her breasts as he pulled her in, and then kissed her stomach as he slid down her knickers. His breathing was heavy and her eyelashes fluttered closed as she anticipated what was to come.

One soft kiss, sweeter than any delicacy, and then he moved in for more.

Anna gave a soft moan as she fell back on plump pillows. She could smell his cologne and the sun on his shirt. She allowed herself to inhale and breathe in the pleasure as he kissed her neck and then said words in Spanish that sounded a lot like how she felt.

He took her flushed face in his hands and gave her slow, wet kisses that weakened her. He climbed on top of her and parted her legs. He couldn’t know how she physically ached for him to enter her.

‘Sebastián...’

He was still half dressed, but she didn’t care. And he was unsheathed, but she cared even less about that. She just had to have him inside her.

But he stopped to sheathe himself.

Always.

They’d both been burned before.

And yet there was a stab of regret—or realisation, perhaps—but then, as he kissed her hard, he dragged her back to that blurry place where details didn’t matter. And he was entering her, and driving in, and she had never known such tender loving as he took every moment of their time together and condensed it into this.

Anna kissed him as she wanted to—as if it was for ever and this wasn’t their final night. Their eyes locked he moved within her, but then she turned her head and looked away—because she had to.

She felt as if she were giving herself to him entirely, but even as her body rippled with pleasure she knew that he held himself back.

‘Don’t...’ she said, but she didn’t know quite what she was telling him.

She sank again, dragged back to oblivion as his tempo increased. His shout as he came was almost silent, breathless, but it reverberated through her, summoning her, and she felt the clench of every cell as she gave in to him. Just caved...

It was afterwards, as she lay there, the blur fading, that she knew for certain he had held back. Despite her willingness, and being on the Pill, still he’d sheathed.

Slivers of his heart was all he’d ever give.

He took care of the details, never trusting anyone else to.

He would never get that close to someone.

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