Page 33 of One Naughty Night (Single in South Beach)

“There’s no such thing as liking it too much.” Of that he was damn certain. He sought out the stone bench tucked into a far corner of the small space and scooped Esme up into his arms. “I wouldn’t dream of denying you what you want.”

She made a little yelp as he lifted her, yet her arms slid around his neck as easily as if they were meant to be there.

“Here?” She clutched him more tightly as he lowered himself onto the bench, settling Esme across his lap, her hip tucked snugly against the taut length of his much-taxed zipper.

“Right here,” he breathed the words into the soft skin of her neck as he bent to taste her. His tongue flicked over the throbbing pulse at her throat, savoring the sweet, clean flavor of her. “Right now.”

Despite the shiver that trembled through her at his words, she relaxed into his chest, her head tilted to his shoulder as her eyelids fluttered closed.

He could only see her in shades of shadow in the darkened grotto, but he knew by her parted lips and shallow breaths that her cheeks would be flushed pink by now, her full lips even more rosy than normal. He unfastened the top two buttons on her white blouse, wondering if the tight crests of her soft breasts would be suffused with that same high color. Her breathing echoed raggedly in their private outdoor chamber, the noise bouncing from one stone wall to another as the sounds of rustled clothing and throaty sighs intensified.

Baring her shoulder, he made sure to uncover only the side of her body rested against him. If any night watchman or security person were to stumble across their hidden retreat, Esme wouldn’t be exposed to their view.

Only to his.

Slipping his hand into the scented warmth of the hollow between her breasts, Renzo lowered his mouth to the delicate curves lifted high by the white lace bra she wore.

Her head tipped back, the decadent arch of her spine lifting one dark nipple just high enough to be visible above the white lace. Falling upon that delicate flesh like a starving man, his tongue swept beneath the fabric, savoring the tight pucker of her skin against his lips.

Esme cried out, her fingers spearing their way into his hair, curving about his neck to hold him against her. A fevered need for her pulsed through his veins, a hunger to possess her now while she was so very willing.

And so very hot.

Shifting her hips on his lap, he relished the mixture of pleasure and pain her every movement wrought. He wanted to give her the fulfillment she sought, or at least that orgasm that seemed to have eluded her before him.

Damn but it felt good to know he could do that for her when no other man had succeeded.

“You’re a bold man to touch me this way in a public place,” she whispered in his ear, her voice breathy and ragged. “Do you think you can be a little more daring and touch me… other places?”

“Bold has never really been a problem for me.” Skimming his palm down her side, he molded the curve of her waist and hugged the swell of her hip. Reaching, trailing lower, he found the hem of her ankle-grazing skirt and allowed his fingers to burrow beneath the silky material and the satiny slip that accompanied it.

Her skin was even softer, smoother than the slippery cloth, her thighs growing warmer with every inch he ascended.

When he finally reached the barrier of white lace that separated his fingers from their goal, Esme let out a sob of mingled pleasure and frustration. Damning political correctness, Renzo bunched the fragile fabric in his palm and yanked, ripping the material off her hips in one satisfying tear.

With a cry of pleasure, she rained fierce, hot kisses across his cheek, lingered on his neck. “There may be benefits to an audacious man.”

Pocketing the lace in his jacket, he wasted no time returning to the warmth between her thighs, always making sure her skirt covered them. He stroked his way through the silky curls shielding her sex and skimmed her slick folds.

Capturing her cry with his mouth, he kissed her, drew her lower lip into his mouth to nip and suckle. Her hips arched into his hand, seeking more of his touch.

He leaned back into the seashell-encrusted wall behind him, his jacket providing enough protection for his shoulders as he tipped Esme back with him. Their mouths sealed in a sultry tangle of tongues, he slid his finger deep inside her to savor her luscious heat.

With patience born of an absolute focus on pleasing her, Renzo ignored the sweet torment of her hip pressed and wriggling against his erection. He withdrew his finger to tease the tight bud throbbing at her center, drawing deliberate circles around that most sensitive of flesh. Replicating that movement with his tongue, he could sense her restless need, felt the tautness in her whole body.

The next time he slid two fingers inside her and she arched wildly with the impact, her thighs clenching around his hand as her body contracted in sweet spasm.

Esme clawed at his jacket even as she slumped more deeply into him. Satisfaction roared through him, fulfilling him even if he couldn’t take her here in the shadowed grotto on Vizcaya’s sprawling grounds. At least he’d been able to give her what she needed.

He leaned back against the bumpy shell wall behind them, praying for enough restraint that he could walk out of this place without too much discomfort. Yet even as he willed his breathing back to normal, Esme reached for his belt buckle and tugged on the leather strap.

* * *

Urgingher fumbling fingers to move faster, Esme worked the clasp of Renzo’s belt. Tiny sparks of pleasure still tingled through her body, her pulse pounding between her thighs with an intensity she’d never known. She needed Renzo inside her.

Now.

“Are you sure about this?” His voice whispered through the sensual haze surrounding her, penetrating her concentrated efforts to free him.

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