Caitríona dressed with care that evening, slipping into a little black dress Ciara had gotten her from Milan last Christmas. Her ankles looked slimmer, feminine and more accentuated when she slipped her feet into her strappy sandals. She had knotted her hair into a wispy style atop her head that emphasized the graceful curve of her neck and then she accessorized with a small strand of pearls, the matching earrings and a tiny gold wristwatch.
Her reflection grinned back at her looking cool, sophisticated and more than a little pretty. Something was missing, she thought, cocking her head this way and that playfully. She grabbed her lipstick and smeared it lightly across her lips deepening the hue; in an instant, she went from looking pretty to looking so hot she stared at herself in mute fascination.
She had never worn the little black dress because she hated cap sleeves and it had cap sleeves; but tonight, she was glad she had impulsively packed it in with her luggage. It was beautiful and it accentuated her figure nicely. Why, looking at her reflection in the mirror, she could have sworn that was a perfect hourglass figure staring back at her.
The doorbell rang just then, startling her out of her self-admiration and she threw a panicked glance at the clock. He was early! Lordy, what had she done? He was a perfect stranger! What if he was a pervert or something? Ciara would have her hide if she learned she had given him her address; assuming, of course, she was alive long enough to get chewed out by her younger sister, she thought with uncharacteristic dark humor.
Nervously, she made her way out of the bedroom to the front door but when she peeped through the tiny peephole, she relaxed automatically; it was Alec all right, and he looked every inch the gentleman and nothing like an ax murderer in his rather expensive sports coat and black pants.
She opened the door wide and felt her welcoming grin dim a little; was she over-dressed?
“No, you’re perfect,” he said reverently, his green eyes scanning her from head to toe.
Caitríona squinted up at him. Could he read her mind too? “Did you just read my mind?”
He smiled at her, almost blinding her with the sheer intensity of it. “You look good enough to eat,” he told her.
“You must be really hungry if I’m starting to look like dinner. We had better hurry to that restaurant,” she laughed, inordinately pleased.
“I’m sure they would do their best, but I guarantee nothing on the menu would taste half as good as you,” he said in a husky voice that trickled through her like liquid fire and did strange things to her insides.
Caitríona went to laugh again, but something in his expression stopped her; he meant every word, she realized, gulping in surprise.
“You’re so full of blarney,” she said instead as she slowly sank into the seat. This man would get her into trouble; he kept saying such perfect things that could go to a girl’s head.
Alec slid silently behind the wheel of the powerful BMW and slowly pulled the car into traffic, seemingly oblivious of Caitríona’s eyes fastened on him in amazement. She couldn’t believe a man like him was attracted to her; sure, she was pretty enough, but still, he was hard and muscular and so handsome it was enough to make a body weep. How could he want her?
She watched him until his lips quirked and he said in a low mocking voice, “Do I have something on my face?”
Immediately, she wrenched her gaze away and directed it to the road, causing Alec to chuckle harder.
At the restaurant, Alec was so smoothly urbane and sophisticated, Caitríona began to feel a little gauche. He complimented the manager on the ambience of the restaurant, wringing a flush of pleasure from the man; he graciously insisted on seating her himself with such care and delicate attention as though she were made of fine porcelain; he mostly deferred to her choice of dinner and made her feel as though she were knowledgeable and sophisticated too; and when the meal arrived, his manners were impeccable.
Caitríona also discovered that for all his sophistication, he was so incredibly and refreshingly down to earth. He made her laugh with his off-the-beaten-path sense of humor, and after she had unselfconsciously thrown her head back in a full-bellied laugh for the umpteenth time, she relaxed so completely and forgot to feel self-conscious anymore.
“So, Caitríona, tell me, why a holiday? Any particular reason?”
Her eyes darkened as she recalled how she had flipped at work and lost her cool, how she had become jaded and lost interest in the job she loved. “Doctor’s orders.”
“One of those, huh? Well, a toast to the good doctor,” he said, raising his glass. “I would never have met you otherwise.”
She clinked her glass with his and slowly raised it to her lips, her gaze fastened on his.
“What do you mean?”
“Tell me about yourself, Caitríona,” he invited. “What do you do?”
Ciara’s stern warnings about gigolos at holiday resorts looking for vulnerable young women to latch onto rushed to her mind. She resolutely pushed them aside. Alec didn’t look like a gigolo at all.
Carefully, she said, “I’m in business.”
“Aren’t we all,” he said conversationally. But he didn’t press further and she relaxed. A gigolo would have, wouldn’t he?
Dinner was delicious and she said so with her mouth full, laughing at herself as a bit of sauce dribbled onto her chin.
Alec watched her quietly as she desperately tried to lick her lips with her tongue. His eyes darkened as he watched her and then slowly, he reached out and flicked the sauce off her chin with one long, slim finger. His gaze holding hers, he slowly carried the finger to his lips and his own tongue flicked out and slowly licked the sauce from it.
It was the single most erotic thing she had ever seen, she realized, her breath hitching as her gaze clung helplessly to his. He slowly withdrew his finger from his mouth and her eyes fastened helplessly on his wet red lips, her nipples tightening beneath her dress as desire coursed through her.
“You taste good,” he said slowly.
Caitríona felt a low growl emit from her throat in reaction; she had never growled in all her life. She licked her lip, her grey eyes darkening with desire as all her focus narrowed on the handsome man seated across from her. The restaurant, the customers, the waiters and everything else faded away slowly until all she could see was the larger than life man in front of her who made her feel like a veritable siren. Desire roared through her and she would have moaned aloud but her throat was too dry.
“Let’s get out of here,” Alec said slowly, his gaze still fastened with hers.
As though in a trance, Caitríona sprung to her feet; Alec tossed some bills onto the table and grabbed her hand. He hustled her out of the restaurant and straight toward his car, almost running in his haste. Caitríona was in as much of a hurry as he was.
He opened her side of the car for her, she slid in and he raced around to his side, intent on starting the car. But Caitríona slid right across the car and straight into his laps, straddling him as she bent her head and took his lips in a wildly erotic kiss.
Alec groaned, his hands exploring every inch of her body as he began to kiss her for all he was worth. “I want to fuck you. I need to fuck you, Caitríona. Do you understand? It’s all I have been able to think about since I saw you on that damn yacht. I’ve had a constant hard-on since then,” he moaned into her neck as his hands deftly pushed her gown up to her waist, exposing the rounded cheeks of her buttocks to his hands.
He kneaded the flesh, squeezing, caressing and stroking. His lips fastened onto her nipples, sucking her through the material of her dress.
Caitríona arched her back, offering him her lips as he licked and laved at her nipple. His hands were very busy, working between both of them to release his fly. In seconds, his turgid arousal sprang free and he deftly pushed her panties to one side.
As he pushed up and into her, Caitríona felt herself adrift on a sea of sensation. She clung to him, gasping as he began to move, thrusting in and out of her. Caitríona panted anew as he began to thrust in and out of her, filling her tight, wet core with his big, fat, dripping penis. He was not wearing a condom, she noted with distinct unconcern.
Oh, how she wanted this, she realized, moving instinctively to match his rhythm. Alec slapped her ass again, wringing a startled moan out of her as pain and pleasure collided in unfamiliar waves. He was so huge she felt stretched to the utmost.
“Caitríona, you are so tight. So fucking tight! I love your pussy,” Alec ground out in her ear.
“I love what you are doing,” Caitríona panted, frantically rubbing at her clitoris as he shoved into her almost savagely.
“Yes baby, I have wanted to do this from the first moment I met you,” he groaned reaching up and splaying her against his chest while his hands tightened about her hips as he held her in place.
Caitríona moaned, tossed about in mindless pleasure as the new posture rubbed him against her G-spot again and again and again.
All her being centered on the mounting tension between her thighs, she felt herself drifting higher and higher until she was moaning and groaning, screaming his name as wave after wave of sensation crashed through her. Fine tremors shook her from the crown of her head to the sole of her feet, leaving her sated, spent, and weak as a rag doll. Alec stilled, watching her as different expressions chased across her face in the thrall of her pleasure. When she was finally sated, he resumed pounding, his face thrown back in pleasure, his teeth gritted.
An intense shudder shook his powerful frame and he continued to slam into her deliciously, his hands tightening on her firm, fleshy thighs. Soon, he was screaming her name as he came powerfully; pouring his seed into her tight, wet, willing passage until he was drained completely.
Caitríona slowly detangled herself from his arms, belated embarrassment making her flush as she scrambled onto her side of the car. She had practically mowed the man down in his own car, flattening him to his seat with her enormous weight. Lord, what if he had only made love to her to be polite?
Caitríona’s eyes widened in dismay, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have”
He cut off her words with a tender, passionate kiss. Then his eyes met hers and he said, “If that’s your pathetic attempt to get out of spending tonight with me, guess again. I can’t get enough of you.”
Caitríona’s words died in her throat. He seemed sincere, she realized.
“I want to make love to you with lots of light and champagne and roses. I want to kiss every inch of your skin until you’re begging me to not let you die of pleasure.”
Caitríona’s breath caught in her throat; the mental imagery was so erotic she could feel herself getting turned on again. But he wanted lights?
She shook her head, “I don’t want”
“Lights?” he asked, guessing correctly. She looked at him in surprise. How had he known?
“You are so voluptuous, it isn’t funny; I have been on slow boil since I caught a glimpse of you in that dress that accentuates all your curves. I want to touch your breasts and run my lips between your hips; I want to lick the back of your knees and see if it tickles you and I want to suck your breasts hard! I want to see every inch of you because you’re the sexiest woman I have ever met. I love having some flesh to hold onto, Caitríona. Call me weird, but not every man wants skin and bones in his bed.”
Caitríona gulped. Well, how did one argue with that?