Free Nacho Figueras Presents by Jessica Whitman

straddled him again, and slowly, ever so slowly, slid herself down onto him. He watched her face as he filled her, as she arched her head back, and her cheeks flushed, and her eyes closed in pleasure. He thought that he had never seen a woman so breathtaking, so uninhibitedly beautiful. She seemed to be holding nothing back, taking everything she wanted as she slowly stroked up and then down again.
    He let her take the lead until he could stand it no longer, and then he thrust himself up into her, making her shudder and cry out. He reached underneath her dress and touched the warm, wet center of her, slowly circling with his thumb as he rocked his hips and moved within her. She bent her face to his, gasping against his cheek, and her hair fell around his neck like heavy, warm silk. Her breasts flattened against his chest, and he could feel her tighten and start to clench and shake, and suddenly her hips were jerking against his. She cried out his name, and he felt her muscles contract over and over again. She threw her head back, met his gaze, and in that excruciatingly powerful moment, he found his release.
    And it was like nothing, nothing , he had ever felt before.
    He felt shattered, enraptured, pierced through with the beauty of the moment—as if there was nothing in his entire world but her glimmering gray eyes, the sound of her voice calling out his name, and the glorious feeling of his body dissolving into hers.
    He thrust into her one final time, and then she collapsed on top of him, laying her body over his as their breathing finally slowed. They listened to the hiss of the sea and rested in the soft, warm sand.
    He gently kissed her face, and thought to himself that she felt so good, so right , and that he never wanted to be anywhere else. That he would stay here forever if she let him…
    And then he laughed softly, because he really had never felt these things before. And honestly?
    It kind of scared the living hell out of him.

Chapter Sixteen
    T he next day, Kat opened her door and found Sebastian standing on her front porch, holding a stack of compact leather-bound journals. They smelled faintly floral. “They’re en español ,” he said. “You will need me to translate. It might take days, but I am willing to make the sacrifice.”
    Kat smiled at his boldness, but inwardly she squirmed. She had awoken that morning with a groan of remorse. She never slept with a man on the first date (or at least, not since college) and yet not only had she had sex with Sebastian—she’d had sex with him in public . They had been out there for anyone to see. They could have been arrested, for God’s sake. She cringed, imagining calling her mother at the hospital.
    “Oh hi, Mama. I know you’re at Daddy’s sick bed, but do you mind mortgaging the cottage and coming down to jail to bail me out for public indecency and exhibitionism?”
    And she couldn’t even blame it on the wine. She’d had a few glasses, but she’d been perfectly clearheaded by the time things had really started up with Sebastian. No, it hadn’t been the wine at all—it had been him . He had made her drunk with his intoxicating mix of sweetness, and wicked humor, and wit, and his outrageous, absurd, ridiculous amount of sex appeal.
    The man was just hot. When he’d kissed her, that was the end and the beginning and everything in between. No one had ever made her feel the things he had just by simply placing his mouth over hers. She had been helpless to deny his need.
    No, she corrected herself, the truth was, she’d been helpless to deny her own need.
    And afterward, when they had been shamelessly lying there on the sand, in full view of God and whoever might stroll by, she had thought, a busload of nuns could pull up and see us in this moment, and I wouldn’t even bother to raise my head from his shoulder. I would just wave and smile and let them all judge. I don’t care. It was worth it.
    But now here she was, face to face with him again,