LusitanianStud Read online

  Oh! Really? He couldn’t be sure? The words got stuck in my throat. “I, um…”

  “You don’t have to say anything or feel you have to reciprocate. I just wanted you to know what impact you’re having on me.”

  What a joke, he had no inkling I’d fallen in love with him on first sight. I’d better show him, then. I propped myself up on an elbow and offered my mouth to him. His eyes widened, darkened, I hoped with understanding, then he wrapped his hand around the back of my neck and kissed me. It began as a gentle touch of lips, a light caress, but in seconds raw passion took over when he thrust his tongue in my mouth and set us on fire.

  Oh my God, he tasted so good, his lips felt so right on mine that I wanted him to keep on kissing me forever. His tongue stroked mine and the kiss became harder, more passionate. He pushed me gently onto my back without breaking contact and leaned over me, the hair on his chest caressing my hardened and ultra-sensitive nipples. I slid my arms around his neck and tunneled my fingers through his silky hair. When his hand wandered down and stroked my thigh I squirmed. He threw his strong, hairy leg over mine and deepened the kiss.

  I was having difficulty breathing when he finally lifted his head and looked at me.

  “Wow,” he said, pulling back. Then his gaze darkened with concern. “Am I going too fast for you?”

  Too fast compared to what? I had no idea. All I knew was I didn’t want him to stop or to slow down. What he was doing was just wonderful.

  Suddenly he rolled on his back and threw an arm over his eyes. “Give me a minute, okay?”

  I sat by his side facing him, slightly concerned but too mesmerized by the sight of his cock—rising long and thick from the dark growth of pubic hair—to dwell on his discomfort.

  Oh my gosh, we’ll never fit! He was so big, not that I knew his size, but his cock head was like a doorknob, and so long! He was a perfect ten to me, and I imagined touching it as I openly gawked. Then my arm moved of its own accord and next I had my fingers wrapped around his hard cock. Diogo jerked and groaned and my head snapped back as I searched his eyes with my own. I found those two beautiful black pools staring back at me with amusement. Heat burned my face.

  “Sorry,” I said as I began to loosen my fingers.

  His hand shot up and his fingers circled my wrist. “Please.”

  We stared at each other for what seemed a long time as he guided my hand up and down his shaft. I was so lost in his beautiful eyes, so fascinated by the feel of his warm silky skin under my fingers that it was impossible for me to do anything else but to follow his single request.

  “Ah, Sarah, you’re good,” he said when my movements became fluid, and I slid my thumb over his cock head to catch a drop of his semen. “Ooh that feels great!”

  I looked at him from the corner of my eye and met his scorching gaze. Heat traveled from my face all the way down to my toes. The need to kiss him beat any awkwardness and modesty left in me. I leaned down and kissed his sexy lips with wild abandon.

  “You’re driving me insane,” he rasped as we rolled over until I lay under him. Then he kissed me again and again and I trembled with arousing need, all my nerve endings like live electric wires. Flushed and wet, I pushed him off me and rolled onto my stomach. His lips trailed along the back of my neck to the crook of my shoulder and tremors rocked my body as a delighted little moan burst from my lips. He chuckled before he moved down my back, his lips chasing his hands, not stopping until they reached my butt.

  “Nice bum,” he rasped as he stroked and kissed it.

  Jolts of heat raced through me in each and every direction. I shifted to face him, exposing hardened nipples and the small vee of damp curls. He lowered his head and took one nipple in his mouth, closing his hand over the other.

  Oh what a feeling—it was as if I were melting at the core but in flames in all other places. Glorious!

  He took both breasts in his hands and moved his lips over one, then the other until I was squirming and clenching his hair.

  “Mmm, I could feast on you all day,” he murmured, then licked one puckered nipple very slowly—sending shivers rippling down my torso to my core. His head shot up and he stared at me. “I will feast on you all day,” he said, before pressing his mouth again to my very hard and wet nipple, and my pussy throbbed with uncontrolled need.

  Diogo moved south and I opened my eyes to find him between my legs staring at my pussy with a grin on his face.

  “Beautiful.”

  Oh God.

  My physical attributes had often been appraised by family members and friends, as well as professionals in the modeling industry, though he wasn’t exactly referring to those same body parts. Yet his compliment was more meaningful to me than any other one before.

  He slipped his hand over my mound and I jerked my hips up, blushing in places I didn’t think one could blush, and gasped in shock. Diogo waited for me to calm down before proceeding. Then his long finger traced a line the length of my slit and I fisted my hands in the long grass as a giant shudder rocked my body.

  I don’t think I can take it. Oh God, so good!

  His gentle touch and light caresses were wicked, and I quickly turned into a sparkling hot wire, though jelly at the core. And then when his magic fingers parted my folds and his tongue lapped and licked my clit, I arched so high I thought I’d break in half.

  “Oh my God! Oh my God!” I wailed when he slid his hands under my ass and brought me closer to him, sucking and licking me ’til I was at a fever pitch. My movements grew more frantic, my moans louder, and I just couldn’t lie still.

  “Shh,” he said as he slid up to cover my mouth with his.

  I was fast becoming addicted to his kisses—I loved them— but what was I to do with the throbbing ache between my thighs?

  I could smell the musky scent of me on his lips. It wasn’t unpleasant, just odd to smell one’s own pussy.

  “I love the way you taste. Here,” he tapped his finger on my lip, “and down here.” His hand slid down and squeezed my mound.

  Then go back down there. Sarah! What? I want him to. I want him to carry on doing what he was doing that was so wonderful.

  “Are you on the Pill?”

  Huh? What pill? Oh that pill! No, I wasn’t. Now was perhaps the time to tell him I was still a virgin. Will he stop doing all these wonderful things to me? Or would he want me more? Surely he’d be pleased to know I hadn’t been with anybody else in this manner.

  “I’m not.”

  He was kissing my throat with such exquisite precision I had a hard time stringing two thoughts together. “I’m not,” I murmured incoherently and wondered if he’d heard me.

  He had. “We need to be careful, then.”

  “Okay.”

  As long as he took care of the throbbing ache in my pussy I’d go along with anything he said.

  He glided down, his mouth and hands scorching my skin with heated kisses and passionate strokes. He kneeled between my legs. Gripping my hips, he lifted me onto his thighs and placing his thumb over my nub, he slid two fingers from his other hand inside me.

  My eyes rolled to the back of my head and I moaned out loud. “Oh God. So good. So good…”

  “Enjoy it, darling,” Diogo urged as he upped the tempo of his strokes.

  Helpless throaty moans escaped my lips as he brought me to the edge and each time pulled back just as I was ready to jump. I arched my back, thrashed my head about as the elusive bliss that threatened to implode inside me was taken away at the last moment, time and time again.

  “Stay there, don’t move. Yes, yes, right there. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.” My breasts were heaving as I struggled for air, pressure building in my head and pussy as the roar in my ears blocked every external sound.

  “Oooooh God!” I cried when suddenly the pressure popped. Tremor after tremor raced through me as the orgasm exploded with staggering force. My nails dug into his arms and I thrust my hips at him as the walls of my pussy contracted around his fingers an
d I poured into his hand.

  When I finally opened my eyes I found his attentive face hovering over mine. A whoosh of pleasant heat spread over my neck and face. He slipped swiftly inside me, and except for a very brief moment of discomfort, the feeling of his warm, thick cock pulsing within my inner walls was wondrously awesome. It blew me away how something this fabulous could be happening to me.

  “Oh hell!” he wailed.

  What? What was wrong? Should I be doing something? I shifted and Diogo let out a loud growl. Then he pulled out of me and thrust and pressed, shuddered and shouted as he came on my belly for what seemed forever. There was never a more arousing sound to me than his low grunts, or a more exciting thrill than Diogo’s handsome face in the height of delirium. I came all over again, the pressure of his warm balls on my clit igniting a fresh orgasm, and I whimpered while I held on to him for dear life.

  Moments later Diogo lifted his head and looked at me. “You okay?”

  More than okay… great, in fact. I nodded.

  “You were a virgin…”

  He had noticed. Of course he had, he had probably made love to a dozen or more other virgins before. Jealousy started to grip me.

  “You were my first virgin,” he said, smiling.

  Honestly? Surprised and pleased, I worried. Was that good or bad? Was I what he expected? “Did you mind?”

  Resting on his elbows to take his weight off me, Diogo smiled into my eyes. “Does it look like I mind?” No, he didn’t. Not at all. To prove his point he kissed me with a passion that made my heart sing. “I not only didn’t mind, I loved it,” he said tenderly.

  I melted inside. That was the validation I craved—the assurance I needed. I hadn’t been totally useless my first time, and Diogo would not turn away from me in disgust. His approval meant everything to me, but I couldn’t help worrying. He hadn’t come inside me. How could that have been okay for him?

  “Next time I’ll come prepared,” he murmured against my throat. “I can’t wait to come deep in you.” Lifting his head, he looked me straight in the eyes. “I want to feel your muscles close around me, hear you come apart in my arms as I thrust deep inside you.” Heat raced through me. My heart swelled with joy.

  “I love you.”

  His eyes darkened. “You’re so beautiful,” he said gravely. “Your face, your eyes… I believe I might fall in love with you.” He smiled. “And if you don’t stop looking at me this way I won’t wait for a next time, and the hell with the consequences…”

  There, the answer to my insecurities. Diogo had enjoyed making love to me, and he wanted to do it all over again.

  Awesome!

  Right then my vacation in Portugal went from total misery to perfect bliss.

  “Tell me about yourself,” he said as we lay on our backs looking at the white, puffy clouds after we’d washed and frolicked in the water once more. He turned his head to look at me. “I want to get to know you.”

  I sighed deeply. Life was good.

  Life got even better during the ensuing weeks as our idyllic encounters escalated in frequency and intensity. We made love anytime, anywhere we met. Diogo showed me there was more than one way to please each other, and I eagerly learned them all…

  And loved every single one.

  Head over heels in love with Diogo, I dreaded the day we would have to say goodbye and go our separate ways. Then a thought entered my mind. I could go to study in England. Wonderful idea! All I had to do was convince my parents.

  Then all hell broke loose.

  Having fallen asleep in each other’s arms the night before, we were caught in my bed by my grandma in the early hours of the morning. Diogo was kicked out of the house while still buttoning his shirt, and I was sent packing and shipped back to the States that same day, tears streaming down my cheeks and my heart aching so badly I thought I’d die from the pain.

  Chapter Two

  Summer 2010

  The idea of spending the summer in Portugal began with a dream shortly after my grandmother’s passing, but it rapidly became an obsession. With no one or nothing to stop me, within a few weeks of mulling over this idea, I packed up and flew over, taking residence in the old manor house.

  My career wasn’t going anywhere, and as for my love life, going away for three months—or a year—would make no difference. Besides, I longed to exorcise Diogo’s ghost from my life once and for all. Why I thought the process would be easier there continues to baffle me to this day, but at the time I truly believed to return to the place where it all began was going to help close the wound.

  Seven years had elapsed since I’d last seen or heard from him, three since the announcement of his engagement to an Arab princess had made headlines in a Portuguese newspaper. That had been the only news on Diogo in seven years—a newspaper article and my grandma’s information on him having taken a job in Dubai, following his graduation from Oxford business school, the same one he’d been attending when we’d first met.

  Certain marriage and fatherhood had followed his engagement to Princess Soraya, I finally accepted that Diogo was irreversibly lost to me. Had I not been so hung up on him I’d have recognized much earlier he’d never truly been mine. Silly me! Age and experience had made me wiser, and as hard as it was to let go of a dream, I finally acknowledged my romance with Diogo was a thing of the past, never to reoccur. Resentment, however, still festered whenever I thought of him. Not surprisingly, the heartache and loneliness during the ensuing months of my rushed departure from Portugal were hard to forget, and a broken heart is never easy to recover from, as I knew only too well.

  The crazy thing is that despite his complete failure to contact me that first year, I still found excuses for his silence. I wavered between believing he didn’t know my address or phone number—for reasons of security our address was never divulged in magazines and our unlisted phone numbers changed every six months—and hoping he was saving up for a surprise visit. At one point I even convinced myself he’d been in an accident and had lost his memory. In the end, I just had to admit he didn’t care enough and accept the fact he probably never truly had.

  It was all in the past now. I had no business stirring up memories and reliving old pains or thinking of someone else’s husband. I was going back to close, at long last, a drawn-out chapter.

  That was all!

  * * * * *

  Once the jet lag had worn off I quickly settled into a routine. I walked through the town, surrounding woods and hilltops most mornings, read in the afternoons and pored over photo albums and family memorabilia most evenings. I had a lovely time and in the process I got a true insight into the history of my family, and to find that one of Diogo’s great-aunts had married one of my great-uncles was a hoot!

  Fresh air, good food and exercise began to shape my body with curves that had been missing throughout my modeling career. It also gave me the tan I’d so diligently sought for years in tanning salons and exotic beaches. And in spite of my apprehension regarding time alone in a remote town in a foreign country, I began to relax and truly enjoy myself.

  It felt right.

  Wonderful, in fact!

  I began drawing again.

  Alone though never lonely, I found I liked myself so much more, as I wasn’t being judged 24/7 by people I didn’t even know on the sole strength of my looks and performance in front of the cameras. I liked that people I didn’t know said hello, stopped to chat and were nice, generous and extremely helpful, expecting nothing in return.

  And then one day, out of the blue, I got an invitation that shocked me to the core and sent me back in time once again.

  It was at the end of my third week when Lucia, the housekeeper, handed me an envelope with my name written in beautiful handwriting. Intrigued, I hastily opened it and in total bewilderment read an invitation for tea from Diogo’s mother, whom I’d never met.

  What is she about? This invitation couldn’t possibly have anything to do with my brief affair with her son, I reasone
d after the first shock began to subside. Clearly she just wanted to meet a new neighbor. But the most curious and nerve-tingling part was her saying she’d been anxiously awaiting this opportunity to meet.

  It was with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity that I walked to the gate of the Vilas-Boas estate and rang the bell. The door was immediately opened by a maid who took me through a set of formal sitting rooms to a large stone porch overlooking the beautiful gardens and the immense expanse of vineyards beyond.

  An older, feminine version of Diogo leapt up from a floral-cushioned rattan chair and smiled warmly at me. “Dear Sarah, we finally meet!”

  Finally? In the context of how my romance with her son had ended, this comment made no sense.

  None of it made sense.

  Why would she be so keen to meet one of her son’s old girlfriends now that he was married and settled? Unless she didn’t know of my involvement with her son, which put a fascinating spin on this extraordinary invitation. I decided I had nothing to fear from this friendly lady and possibly quite a lot to gain from a keen neighbor.

  “How do you do, Mrs. Vilas-Boas?”

  She shook her head before taking my hands in hers and kissing me on both cheeks. “You must call me Eduarda. I’d much prefer that. Now, how do you take your tea? Milk and sugar?” she asked, smiling, a smile so like her son’s my breath faltered for a moment before I recovered from this unexpected explosion of memories.

  “Milk, no sugar, thank you,” I said, as I took the seat next to her. “You’ve got a beautiful home, Mrs…er…Eduarda.”

  “Thank you. Do you like old houses?”

  As a child of the New World I had an appreciation for everything modern and new, yet there was a charm in these ancient houses that appealed to me. “I do indeed. It’s fascinating, all the history that goes with a four-hundred-year-old house such as this one.”

  A glint of interest sparkled in her gaze. “Oh, you’ve been catching up on the town’s history, have you? And why is that?”