Claimed on the River Read online

Page 3


  “Ahh!” I couldn’t help the cry that broke from my throat when he licked me through the cloth, the heat of his tongue and the slight scrape of lace driving my clit into a frenzy of sensation. It felt like all of my muscles turned to liquid; I swayed and his hands braced me, held me up, guided me back one step, another, until my shoulders were pressed against the wall and my hips were thrusting forward, desperate for more of his sweet torture.

  With a deft tug he moved my panties aside, leaving me bare to his mouth. He licked me slowly, savoring me, his tongue teasing the bud of my clit between each swipe against my lower lips. I was wet for him, soaking, and he drank me in like fine wine. I forgot all about the balcony door, the people partying below, the guests in the rooms around us, my pleasure escaping in frantic sounds as his tongue teased against the pulsating slit of my entrance.

  My hands fumbled for him, nearly knocking his hat off his head as I clutched at his shoulders. His own sounds of pleasure were muffled against me, but I could feel the vibrations shivering through my flesh, heightening my pleasure. My muscles felt too tense and too weak all at once, and the heat rising up from my pussy and through my belly left me unable to do more than press my head back against the wall and yield to it.

  My orgasm rushed through me in a wave that left me gasping, my body slumped weakly against the wall. Antonio’s mouth, cleaning away the last of my juices, was almost more than my hyper-aware nerves could stand, but he stopped before pleasure could turn to torment, rising and smiling at me with lips that still glistened with the evidence of my passion.

  “Delicious,” he breathed, leaning one arm on the wall beside my head. I flushed, dropping my eyes just in time to see him palm the very obvious bulge in his slacks and I could feel my cheeks heating. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

  My cheeks were on fire, but I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. “Oh yes,” I said, pulling my gaze up into his eyes. “It was...amazing.”

  His hand came up to trace a circle around my breast, spiraling slowly in toward my nipple. “And would you desire more, minha beleza? Something more amazing still?”

  A shiver of anticipation ran through me. “Yes,” I breathed, as his hand closed over my breast. My skin was still sensitive, tingling, the hard nub of my nipple bumping into his palm as his hand flexed and kneaded against my soft flesh. “Oh yes, please, I want whatever you’ll give me.”

  The raw need in his gaze took my breath away. “I would give you everything I am, Sophie, if you would have it.”

  “I would,” I whispered, sensing somehow that he meant more than just his cock. “I don’t understand how I can feel this way, but I want you, Antonio. You make me feel...alive.”

  He leaned down, kissing me, letting me taste the salt of my passion on his lips and tongue. “Then let me give you everything I may this night,” he said, when we parted, and guided me to the bed.

  I sank down onto the soft mattress, unwilling to take my eyes off him as he shed his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt, the light fabric contrasting with the rich tan of his skin. I bit my lip, gaze tracing the contours of his body, following the flex of his powerful muscles. God, he was gorgeous; it was hard to believe he was interested in me, when his looks should have had every woman in the city falling all over themselves to be with him.

  But the reality was that he was here, with me. His eyes never left me and hi expression was raw and open, promising me far more than just his dick. I truly believed he would give me every part of his heart and soul, and my own heart sang at the insistant, improbable connection I could feel between us.

  His hands dropped to his belt, his tapered fingers slowly unfastening the buckle, and I curled my fingers into the soft blanket covering the bed to keep myself from reaching for him. Antonio was in no hurry, sliding the grey pants of his suit down to reveal black silk boxers that hugged his hips and outlined the bulge of his desire for me. My breath shuddered out of my lungs at that first glimpse of him, long and thick beneath the dark cloth, tantalizingly hidden but enough to make my imagination run wild.

  I took a deep breath and pulled my eyes upward to meet his. He smiled at me, his eyes sparkling beneath the brim of his hat, which was just about the last stitch of clothing he had on. “Aren’t you going to take that off?” I asked with a nervous laugh, trying to distract myself from the whirlwind of my emotions and the enormity of what I was about to do. I wasn’t a prude, and I’d never really been saving my virginity, but this still felt like a big step.

  It also felt like, if I had been saving myself for the right man, he was standing in front of me in all his sexy glory.

  “It is...complicated,” Antonio said in a soft voice, his smile fading. “Does it bother you?”

  “No,” I said honestly.

  Antonio’s smile returned. “Good,” he said, and I watched his shoulder muscles flex as he dragged his boxers down over his hips.

  I couldn’t stop myself from looking, and I knew my eyes must have widened as I took in his erection. He was big, even bigger than I’d thought, certainly bigger than my very limited knowledge of male anatomy had prepared me for. I couldn’t tear my eyes off the thick shaft standing proudly between us, the tip flushed and glistening.

  Maybe I squeaked out an alarmed sound, because Antonio knelt between my spread thighs, catching my chin in his hand so I had to look up. “It is all right, minha beleza. I will be gentle.”

  “I know you will be,” I managed, swallowing hard. And I did know it; I couldn’t imagine him hurting me, not after how thoroughly he’d shown me pleasure earlier.

  He leaned up to kiss me, and then his fingers were between my legs, stroking my wet folds. I marveled at how quickly my body responded to his touch. Where just minutes before I’d felt heavy and sated, my skin almost too sensitive to stand, now I felt like I had a livewire crackling through me, sending jolts of pleasure through my nerves that just left me hungry for more.

  My anxiety faded as he continued to touch me, his voice low and soothing, urging me to relax and enjoy myself, and as the fear slipped away it was replaced by a different kind of tension, an eagerness to let him claim me for his own.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck, combing my fingers through the short, crisp strands of his hair and playing with the brim of his hat, then dared to lean in and claim a kiss. His fingers stilled their tantalizing movements, all of his attention returning to where our lips met, kissing me with a focus and intensity that left me breathless when we parted.

  “Antonio,” I said, the word coming out more of a desperate moan. “Please...I’m so ready for you. I want you...need you in me.”

  “If you are sure, my Sophie,” he murmured against my lips, the tips of his fingers brushing along my quivering slit.

  My inner walls clenched at the promise of entry. “I’m sure,” I gasped. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

  Gently, he eased me back onto the bed, his powerful body looming over me. I could feel the heat of him across every inch of my skin as he leaned down to kiss me again, one hand gently stroking down my side while the other guided his length to my entrance, and then the blunt head of his cock was pressing against me.

  “Relax,” he said when I instinctively tensed against the intrusion, my breath escaping in a gasp. “Relax, my love, and let me fill you.”

  The idea of being filled by him, claimed and incontrovertibly marked as his, wrung another moan from me even before I felt him once again test my entrance. This time, instead of tensing, I spread my legs wider, welcoming him.

  He stretched me slowly, giving me time to adjust as he pressed into me inch by inch. I needed the time to accustom myself to the aching stretch of his thick shaft in my tight pussy, but before he was halfway inside me I was torn between gratitude for his care and a writhing, desperate need to feel all of him in me. My legs wrapped around his hips almost of their own volition, holding him tight, trying to pull him deeper, even as the stretch of my virgin pussy teetered right on the edge of pain.

>   “Please,” I begged, my hands fumbling to grip his upper arms, his shoulders, any part of him in an effort to bring my body even closer to his. “Oh god, please Antonio, please fuck me!”

  He responded with a muffled moan of his own, and plunged the rest of his length into me with a single thrust. I cried out, hips arching up toward him as the sensation of being stretched to the knife edge of what I could stand overwhelmed me, too much and yet still not enough to sate my craving for him.

  Antonio pulled partway out and then slid in again, slowly, giving me time to adjust to his girth. I couldn’t believe how totally he filled me; each movement seemed to shoot sparks through my entire body, every nerve attuned to the place where we joined. My inner walls were stretched thin around his dick, clenching and quivering with the delicious friction of his body inside mine, wrapped so tight around him that it seemed like I could feel every throbbing pulse of blood in his shaft.

  “More,” I moaned. Through half-closed eyes I could see Antonio watching me, studying every nuance of my expression as he matched the pace of his movements to what I could bear. His thrusts rocked me in more ways than one, and I held to him tightly, matching his rhythm, my heart pounding in time to his.

  Tension wound through my muscles as I neared my peak, my whole body vibrating with it, each brush of his hands or lips, the light tug of teeth or flick of his tongue against my nipples, sending a new rush of sensation to overload my thoughts and drown me in a sea of pure feeling. Never before had I felt such pleasure...but I had never felt so loved, either, so wanted, as I did now, with this gorgeous man’s full attention focused solely on me and my needs.

  The rush of emotion was as overwhelming as the rising tide of my approaching orgasm. My hands fumbled clumsily across his skin, longing to give him as much pleasure as he was giving me. My legs tightened around his hips with his next thrust, my hips angled to welcome him. I felt him shudder and he groaned, the sound wrenched from deep in his chest. He swelled within me as his own orgasm overtook him, and with the first hot burst of his seed I was coming, my fingers digging into his broad shoulders while my inner walls clenched, pulsing, milking every drop of his essence deep into my core.

  He filled me and then some; I could feel the slick heat of his seed mixed with my juices, slipping free of my body as he slowly withdrew and settled down beside me, lightly nuzzling and kissing my neck. His hat had been knocked askew by our passion; I reached up, unsure if I meant to remove it or replace it, but I felt drunk from the heady rush of our lovemaking and my clumsy fingers knocked it aside.

  Antonio didn’t seem to notice as he stretched out beside me, but even in the dark, I could see there was something wrong, something strange about the shape of his head, the way his otherwise perfectly groomed hair parted away from the center. I stroked my fingers through the short, soft strands until I reached a ridge of hard, smooth skin.

  He noticed what my fingers were doing then, and pulled away, but not before my fingers had told me there was a gap, right at the top of his head, an opening perhaps two inches wide.

  “Minha beleza, don’t,” he said, sounding agonized.

  “What is it?” I asked. I could see his expression now, in the dim light of the moon coming through the open balcony door. I could see the circle of skin, too, a pale greyish-white ring that contrasted with both his black hair and the rich tan of his skin, and I couldn’t take my eyes off it until he fumbled for his hat and put it back on, blocking the strange sight from my view.

  “It is, as I said, complicated.” His eyes were serious when I finally lowered my gaze to meet them, serious and full of longing. “Sophie, will you trust me? Just a little longer?”

  Curiosity ate at me, but I couldn’t refuse him when he was looking at me like that, and I couldn’t find the energy or desire to argue when my body felt languorous and sated from our lovemaking. “Yes,” I said softly, almost afraid that any more words would break the tenuous bond I could feel between us.

  “Then let it go for now,” he said. His arm wrapped around me, pulling me in until my back was pressed to his chest, his chin resting against my hair and his voice a soft rumble that I could feel all through me. “I will explain everything to you tomorrow, I swear.

  One of his hands was cradling my breast; the other caressed down my stomach to thread light fingers through the soaked curls of my mound. I shivered, sated and wanting all at once, my breath catching as Antonio circled my clit with a careful touch. “Rest?” he suggested, and I didn’t have to see his smile to know it was there.

  “More,” I breathed, pressing back to feel his length against my ass. He wasn’t ready yet, but his fingers slipped easily through my folds, ready to keep me company until he was. I shuddered as he slid two fingers into me, pressing deep, his mouth sucking a bright point along my throat, and any thought of questions or strange things in his hair fell away, consumed by his touch and the feel of his body against mine.

  We made love again, tender, then fierce, and the morning sun was creeping into my room before I finally fell asleep, Antonio’s arms still wrapped around me.

  When I woke it was near noon, and brilliant sunlight poured into my room from the balcony, washing the room in shades of summer gold. I stretched slowly, feeling the delicious ache in each of my muscles, the satisfied tenderness between my thighs. In the light of day, I could hardly believe what I’d done the night before. It could have been nothing more than the most spectacular dream of my life, if not for the way my body remembered Antonio’s touch, and the red rose that was resting on my pillow only inches from my nose.

  There was a note with it on the resort stationary, Antonio’s words left in a firm, masculine hand. Gone to fetch breakfast - meet me at the riverfront. It was signed, not with his name, but with a drawn heart around a single letter A and I giggled softly for how sappily happy it made me.

  I didn’t regret a moment of what I’d done. I still felt that deep, inexplicable connection to Antonio, a connection I never would have discovered if I hadn’t been willing to throw caution to the wind and trust my instincts. The realization made me almost giddy as I rose from the bed and made my way to the shower, where my hands retraced the paths his had painted across my skin. I didn’t look any different, but I felt more like a woman, the final mysteries of my body opened and revealed to me with the shedding of my virginity.

  Smiling, I cupped my high, pert breasts in my hands and teased the nipples to hard peaks. They felt full, tender to my touch and deliciously sensitive; I remembered the way Antonio’s mouth had closed over them while we made love, alternating between them, an aching pressure rising within me as he suckled. I’d been so focused on the pleasure of his body joined to mine, filling and completing me, that I hadn’t fully appreciated his mouth at the time, but now the memory sent a hot rush between my legs and I bit my lip, tipping my face into the spray of the shower while my hands brought me a small and, I knew, temporary release.

  I couldn’t wait to see Antonio again, the need to see his eyes, his smile, throbbing within me as powerfully as the need to feel his touch. The mystery of the scar – that’s what it must have been, some sort of scar – hidden beneath his hat barely mattered to me once the initial surprise had worn off. I only wanted him, and I pulled on the first thing I found in my suitcase, a light knit dress that swirled around my thighs as I walked, caressing me with feather-light touches that did nothing to cool the fire Antonio had awakened in me the night before.

  From the esplanade outside of the hotel, I could see the broad expanse of the Amazon River, sparkling in the sunlight. A breeze off the water countered the heat of the Brazilian sun as I descended a curving stairway down toward the water, carrying the green scents of water and rainforest; I inhaled deeply and tried to calm the nervousness fluttering in my belly as my eyes searched the sparse crowd of tourists and locals that milled between me and the water.

  Antonio hadn’t said precisely when or where to meet him, so I followed the paved walkway along the riverba
nk, away from the docks and the heavier crowds. Most of the other tourists must have been more interested in the city, or river tours, or maybe they were just discouraged by the mild upward slope as the path moved inland; whatever the reason, I didn’t have to walk very far before the crowd thinned to nothing, leaving me in solitude aside from the occasional local fishing along the banks of the river, or riding past on a bike, intent on their own errands.

  I didn’t want to go too far from the resort, knowing Antonio would expect to find me there, so when the walkway began to slope downward I stopped, ready to turn back. The water was closer here, I noticed; the river had cut into the bank at some point, leaving a large, still body of water out of the main current, the near side bolstered by concrete to keep it from washing out from beneath the walkway.

  A splash in that otherwise smooth water drew my attention, and I reflexively smiled at the sight of a dolphin breaching the surface to splash down again. Just like the dolphin who had greeted my arrival on the ferry, this one seemed to want my attention, rolling onto one side and waving a fin in the air before sinking beneath the water again.

  I stepped off the walkway and onto grass and moss covered earth, the ground sinking slightly beneath my weight as I crossed the distance between the walkway and the bank of the river. The dolphin swam in excited circles a few yards from the bank as I approached, then swam toward me, water arcing up in a plume as the greyish-pink body cut through the surface. And then, too quickly for me to become alarmed that the dolphin appeared determined to drive itself right up onto dry land, it did just that.

  I only had time to gasp in horror before the dolphin was on the shore, it’s body twisting and changing before my eyes, fins elongating and skin darkening. I stared, hands over my mouth, a cry strangling in my throat, unable to do more than watch the dolphin’s tail split into legs, the bulbous head and long snout shrinking and re-shaping into a face I had become intimately acquainted with over the hours of dancing and lovemaking the past two nights.