His Virgin Acquisition Part 11

Marco walked up behind her and coc.o.o.ned her in his firm embrace. "This is the island of Kapu. It means forbidden, or taboo." The wicked words sent a shiver down her spine. "It's for sale, and I'm considering purchasing it and building a luxury villa on the grounds. It's the ultimate vacation rental. A private island."

"You're going to buy an island?" There was simply no pretending to be nonchalant over this extravagant show of wealth.

"It's a lovers' paradise. The fantasy of being the only two people on earth realized, with all of the modern luxuries you could ever want."

She could imagine it all too easily. She and Marco marooned on an island, with nothing more pressing to do than give each other pleasure. She bit back a moan. "So you're thinking of it as an extension of the resort?"

"In a sense. But it will be kept separate, in that only staff and invited guests will be allowed on it when it's in use."

"That sounds...decadent."

He chuckled-his hot breath warming her down to her toes, the sound of his laugh rumbling through her body.

"That's the idea."

It didn't take long for Marco and the small crew to bring the ship into the floating marina. He moved like a man who had been born at sea, his movements sure and swift, his deft fingers tying knots with ease.

"Did your family sail often?" she asked, keeping her eyes trained on the shifting muscles in his forearms as he worked.

He stopped and straightened, a shadow pa.s.sing over his handsome face. "No." He crossed the deck and climbed up onto the ship's railing before dropping down onto the dock.

She moved to follow him and he stretched his arms up, preventing her from hitting the wooden planks with the force that he had done. "You just seem like a seasoned pro."

Marco never talked about his family, and up until that point she'd thought it might have been an oversight. She should have realized that Marco didn't commit oversights. His avoidance of the subject was very purposeful, and if he didn't want to share the reasons there would be no persuading him. She had been right when she'd guessed that he wasn't a pillow-talker. He wasn't that much of a talker full-stop-not about anything personal-which had suited her fine since she didn't exactly want to rehash her disaster of a childhood either. But now it didn't seem enough to limit conversation to the weather and the stock market. She wanted more. And that was very, very dangerous.

"I bought my first boat when I was nineteen. Sailed it from Puerto Vallarta to San Diego and then had it transported across the country. Money was no object," he said ruefully. "I enjoyed it very much."

She could just imagine him on board a sleek white yacht, with women in scanty bikinis draped across the deck...and across Marco. Unbidden, a flame lit in the pit of her stomach. She knew Marco had an unfathomable amount of experience compared to her, and generally she could let it go, but she would be a liar if she claimed it didn't bother her. The thought of other women touching him made her stomach churn.

"I sold it a few years ago," he continued, "because I no longer had the time to take extended boating excursions."

"Cut into your social life?" she snapped, the image of beach beauties pawing at him still at the forefront of her mind.

He gave her a withering glare. "I don't sleep with every woman I'm photographed with."

She tried to look casual at his admission. "Oh?"

"I think you are jealous, cara mia." He looked very entertained by the notion. And, worse still, he was right.

"And my being with other men wouldn't bother you?"

He stepped nearer to her and claimed her mouth in a fiery kiss. When they parted their breathing was labored, their heartbeats erratic and audible in the near silence that surrounded them. "They would not live to taste your sweet lips. I would not allow it."

She tried to think of a tart comeback, something pertaining to his origins in the Neolithic era, but every fiber of her being was too busy basking in the pure pleasure of knowing that Marco wanted her and wanted no one else to have her, that he felt possessive of her in the same way she felt possessive of him.

Forsaking all others.

She quickly shook off the remembered snippet of her wedding vows and followed Marco from the dock to the pristine white sand beach. There were no footprints to mar its natural beauty, only gentle, sloping waves caused by the coastal winds.

"I'm told that back in the jungle there's a natural waterfall, if you're up for a walk."

"Most definitely," she said, keeping pace with him as he walked into the thick trees.

To think that only a week ago she'd been sitting in her gray cubicle, crunching numbers. It seemed another lifetime away. She could hardly reconcile the two points of her existence, and yet they were both real.

They moved through the sun-dappled undergrowth, vines reaching out and grabbing them around the ankles every so often. "We need a machete," she grumbled as she tripped over a wayward root.

He turned and quirked a grin at her. "Just a little bit farther. I can hear the water running."

They followed the sound until the treeline ended and they were standing in a gra.s.sy clearing. A waterfall was spilling down a lava rock formation and into a clear pool of deep water.

Marco came to stand beside her, his arm wrapped around her waist, the heat of his body seeping through her clothes, warming her from the inside out.

"This almost doesn't seem real," she breathed. "It's like a fantasy." And she didn't only mean the scene; the man was included as well.

"Do you think it will appeal to those seeking a romantic hideaway?"

"I'd say it's absolutely perfect."

"Want to test the water out?"

She eyed him skeptically. "I thought we were here for business."

Marco felt himself grow hard as he thought about getting her in the water, her body slick, her nipples beaded tight from the coolness of the natural pool.

"We're here to test out the facilities," he said sagely. "I never buy a car without test driving it first. I'm not going to buy an island without sampling some of its attractions."

An impish grin lit her face and she untied the flimsy strings of her halter-top. The close-fitting top had been tormenting him all morning. She pulled the silky shirt over her head and revealed a skimpy electric-blue bikini that barely concealed the fullness of her curves. Her nipples were hard and pressing tightly against the Lycra. He ached to touch her, taste her, to lave his tongue over the small raspberry buds until she cried out for fulfillment.

"See something you like?" she asked.

"I don't know. Keep going."

She rolled her eyes at him and pushed the khaki shorts she was wearing down her long, shapely legs. The bottom to the bikini was just as tiny and insubstantial as the top, the tight blue fabric hugging the round curve of her bottom and revealing hints of peachy flesh.

Her irises expanded, obscuring the color in her eyes, as her body responded to his blatant appraisal of her. "Your turn," she said, her voice taking on the husky quality that he knew signaled her arousal.

She watched as he stripped down to his swim-trunks, her eyes roaming over him with unconcealed desire. She was an anomaly when compared to any of the other women he'd known. She didn't lower her lashes coyly, but neither was her look one of bold invitation. There was nothing contrived in her response. She had such total honesty in her desire. She wanted him, and she did nothing to hide that fact from him, but neither did she strut around like a cat in heat to try and gain his attention.

The pure need in her soft blue eyes was his undoing every time. He hooked his arm around her waist and drew her into his body. Shy excitement lit her face. It amazed him every time she blushed. A surge of emotion caught him off guard, and despite being on solid ground he had the strangest sensation of being unsteady.

He gripped her tightly and took two big steps to the edge of the water before jumping in and submerging them both in the aquamarine depths.

She came up sputtering, her blond hair plastered to her face. She moved the curtain of hair aside and gave him her best evil eye. His charming grin undid her, and all her pique was forgotten. She registered the heat of his skin, warming her in the cool water, the strength of his body as he held her locked against his hard, muscular chest. If she'd been standing her knees would have buckled.

She slithered out of his grasp, submerging herself again, and swam to the waterfall, aware that he was following behind her, feeling a primitive feminine thrill over being pursued. She climbed up onto a rock that rose out of the pool at the base of the waterfall and sat down on the mosscarpeted surface, curling her legs beneath her.

Marco hoisted himself from the water and onto the rock with ease, his muscles bunching and shifting beneath his tan skin. Slick moisture pooled at the apex of her thighs, but it had nothing to do with the waterfall and everything to do with the supremely gorgeous man who was moving toward her, his dark eyes blazing with intent.

"Pouting?" he asked, trailing his finger along the line of her collarbone.

The contact was almost innocent, yet it made her thoughts turn wanton and wicked.

"Yes, well, you got me wet."

His eyes flickered. "Careful, a man could let that go to his head."

He moved his finger, dipping in the valley between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. She gasped. "Is it always about s.e.x with you?"

"Not always. But when I'm with you that seems to be the subject more often than not." He cupped her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, teasing the straining peaks with the pads of his fingers. She shuddered.

She flicked a glance at the dense jungle, looking for any signs of movement in the thick growth of plants. "Marco, we're right out in the open." She couldn't summon enough conviction to give her scolding any weight.

"It's a private island. And the crew is still aboard the yacht."

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to the curve of her neck. Her body went slack, leaning into his, surrendering to the feelings he aroused in her so effortlessly.

He untied the strings on her daring bikini, the one that she'd vowed never to wear on her first inspection of her new wardrobe, and left her bare to his hungry gaze.

He groaned. "You're so gorgeous." He moved his thumb over her tight nipple and she squirmed. She wondered if anyone had ever died from longing, from wanting a man so much it took the breath right from her body.

He moved his hand beneath the falls and let water pool in his palm. Then he brought his hand to her and tilted it slightly over her, let the water trickle slowly over her flesh, so it trailed down the dips and swells of her body, over her already aching b.r.e.a.s.t.s. The contrast of concentrated drops of cool water on her overheated skin made her gasp. It also wrenched her arousal up another untenable notch.

She reached behind her head, feeling for something to grip, something to keep her rooted to the earth. She found a fern frond and grasped it in her hands, holding it so tightly that the leaves bit into her palms.

He gathered more water in his hand, tormenting her again with the sharp chill as he let it fall in beads over her bare b.r.e.a.s.t.s, this time lapping up the drops with his tongue. She arched into him, begging him silently to possess her, to fill her and take them both to the heights they so desperately craved.

He leaned in and drew her nipple into his hot, moist mouth, and she let out a shocked cry that was swallowed up by the roaring of the water. She released her hold on the plant and gripped the back of Marco's head, holding him to her, needing him to stop for fear that she would shatter, needing him to go on forever, needing to keep experiencing the wicked sensations that were coursing through her body.

He escaped her hold and untied the flimsy bikini bottoms, his dark eyes turning black with the force of his desire as he looked at her naked body.

"I'm at a disadvantage," she said. She was almost shocked by her growing boldness as she gripped his aroused length through the thin fabric of his swim-shorts. She squeezed him, loving the look of surrender that pa.s.sed over his handsome face.

She put a hand in the center of his chest and gently shoved him back, moving his shoulders beneath the cascading water. She moved her hands over his bare chest, sliding her fingertips over his slick bare skin.

She hooked her fingers into his shorts and pulled them down his legs, smoothing her hands up his muscled thighs, skimming the area around his erection. His shaft jerked at the near contact and she thrilled at his response. She would never, ever get enough of his body. She would never tire of looking at him. He was the perfect example of what a man should be. Hard, hot, rough and smooth.

She leaned over and took the tip of him into her mouth. He gripped her hair, weaving his fingers into the wet strands. She didn't know if he meant to pull her away or keep her there, but when she slid her lips down over his full length his hand froze, his grip tightening, whatever his original intention had been lost.

She pleasured him that way until his thighs began to quiver beneath her hands, and then he pulled her away, bringing her up the length of his body and taking her mouth in a fierce, deep kiss. When he broke the kiss his breathing was labored, his eyes dark with intensity.

"Was that okay?" she asked.

"Okay?" A strained chuckle escaped his lips. "Any more and this would have been over before it started."

He settled her onto his lap, so that she was straddling them. The water was showering them both, but doing nothing to cool their mutual desire. He lifted her and settled her onto his erection, gently sliding into her damp core, stretching her, filling her.

He cursed, and she cut him off by pressing her lips to his, absorbing his masculine groan of ecstasy as she began to move.

She rode him, their eyes locked, their breathing fractured. She felt the onset of her climax, but it felt like too much too soon, as though her body couldn't possibly contain it. He moved his hand between them and rubbed her c.l.i.toris. She shattered. She screamed, not caring if anyone heard, not mindful of anything but the intense, pulsing sensation that was centered at her apex of her thighs and radiating out through her whole body, filling her so completely that she thought she might burst with it.

Marco thrust hard into her one last time and followed her over the edge, his harsh groan of completion shifting something inside her chest.

He rested his head against her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, his arms holding her tightly to him. She cradled his head, holding him to her, craving his closeness to a degree that frightened her.

She had been foolish to believe that she could conduct this affair as if it was business. She would never be free of him after this. He was part of her, in her. He'd changed her.

She had done exactly what she'd been so determined not to do-what she'd thought she would be incapable of doing. She'd committed the unpardonable sin. She had fallen in love with her husband.

Chapter Nine.

"YOU'RE in the mood for Spam this morning?" Marco asked incredulously.

Elaine swallowed the bite she'd been working on and shrugged. "It looked good. Very salty," she said, taking another bite and relishing the flavor. She'd declined the local favorite every other morning during their breakfast in bed sessions, but this morning it had looked mouth wateringly amazing.

They'd been in Hawaii for nearly a month. The sale of the resort had been finalized, and Marco had been working on negotiating a deal for the island of Kapu. Her face, and other parts of her, heated as she thought of the afternoon they'd shared on the forbidden island, making love beneath the waterfall.

The days since then, since the realization that she loved him, had been a sweet kind of torture. On the one hand she felt more alive, more inspired than ever before. She felt things more deeply; her mind was more attuned to the things around her. On the other hand it nearly broke her heart every time she looked at his impossibly gorgeous face and realized that their relationship had a timer ticking on it.

She looked at the plate in front of her and was shocked to see that she'd polished off more than her share of their breakfast. She gave him a sheepish grin. "I guess I was hungry."

Marco dropped a kiss on her nose and a strange, hot, melting sensation flowed through her body, weakening her limbs. "s.e.x burns a lot of calories. At least if you do it right. Which we most definitely do."

In spite of the fact that she'd shared every intimacy with him, she blushed. "I can't argue with you." She reached for the remaining piece of meat on their shared plate.

"Plans for the day?" he asked.

Because their "honeymoon" had gone on for so long, she'd been working remotely, doing the accounting for her firm, and she'd continued to actively work on her own business plan.

"No. I finished approving payroll last night while you were at your meeting."

"Excellent. I have to meet with Mr. Naruto briefly this morning, to discuss a final price for Kapu, but after that we can spend the day together."

A sweet feeling of absolute contentment stole over her, leaving her fuzzy. If she could pause everything right then, and just live in this stolen piece of time, she thought at that moment that she would. And that desire frightened her a lot less than it should.

"I might head into town for some supplies," she said.

"You could have the concierge send over whatever you need."

"I know, but then what else am I going to do? I'm not comfortable lying back and being served-especially not when I'm more than capable of going to a grocery store."