Yield to Love (14 page)

She stood waiting beside a
colossal stone fountain that was carved into the shape of a lion’s
head. The rippling water pouring from the beast’s mouth reminded
her of the huge La Paz waterfall she’d seen when the plane had
flown over
Juan Santamaria
Airport earlier.

When Roque told her he had a quick getaway
planned, she had no idea he meant Costa Rica. This was even better
for her plan. She’d had the entire plane ride to contemplate his
proposal. Three days of hedonistic pleasure. The thought of him
catering to her every sexual whim almost made her cream in her
panties. Yes, she wanted it. She wanted him. She’d spend
seventy-two hours with him, letting him indulge her every fantasy.
Then, she’d return home and never have to speak to him again. No
one need ever know. But he had no idea who he was dealing with. She
had a voracious sexual appetite. Maybe she should have warned
him.

No. She smiled to herself. Roque said he
could handle her. She wanted to see what he had up his sleeves.

“
I’ve always loved Costa
Rica,” Roque said, pulling her from her erotic reverie.  “It’s
been a few years since I’ve been here. I never had a reason to come
back until now.”

He raised his eyebrows suggestively. She
didn’t have to ask the reason. She knew it was her.

“
Just what kind of freaky
nastiness do you have planned, Mr. Coleman?”

He shrugged. “Nothing, really. Just a few
things that will make you scream my name.”

Heat flooded her body, settling into an
insistent throb between her legs. “It takes a lot to make me
scream.”

His blue eyes locked with hers. “I think I’m
qualified for the job.”

She cocked her head to the side. “So, you
think you can just whisk me away to some exotic country, put me up
in a five star hotel and jump my bones?”

“
Of course not. I already
told you I do things with style and class.” He caressed her cheeks
with the pads of his thumbs. “My plan was to whisk you away to some
exotic country, put you in a villa at a five-star hotel, shower you
with attention, ply you with liquor, lick every inch of you from
your lips to your toes, and
then
jump your bones. After all, I do have my
priorities, woman.”

Marlowe giggled. She didn’t know what to
make of this side of Roque. He had a dry sense of humor that she
somehow appreciated.

“
Okay, so what’s first on
the agenda?”

“
Show you to your villa,
and then you’ll get to see my volcano up close and
personal.”

She almost choked. “So, is that how you
refer to your…equipment? As a volcano?”

He chuckled. “ I have to admit, when we come
together, it’s explosive, but this volcano is a real one.” He
grasped one of her hands and led her to the nearby bank gold
embossed elevators.

“
Wait, you’re
serious?”

“
Yes.” He pressed the gold
button for the elevator. “I’m going to take you to a real volcano.
I call it my volcano because I worked with a firm years ago that
helped create the name for the company that offers one of the
tours.”

“
Well, there’s just one
problem.”

“
What’s that?”

“
I have only the clothes
on my back. What am I supposed to wear to a volcano? Or better yet,
for the next three days?”

Roque ushered her into the empty elevator
and maneuvered her against the gold-mirrored walls. “If I had my
way, you’d be wrapped in nothing but a sheet. I think you wear it
well.”

Their hot gazes collided. He stroked her
cheek, his finger trailing a path to the hollow of her throat.
Butterflies fluttered in her stomach.

He’d said he was going to make her fantasies
come true. She didn’t have any fantasies except to get fucked good
and hard. She had no doubt Roque could do that.

The elevator doors opened to a wide hallway
lined with a wall-to-wall plush carpet designed in tasteful blacks
and golds. A tall, lean man dressed in a maroon suit and a crisp,
white shirt stood a few feet away.

“
Mr. Coleman? Ms. Jones,
I’m Carlos, your personal concierge. Allow me to escort you to your
villas.”

Marlowe glanced at Roque. “Villas?
Plural?”

He nodded. “I told Brett to book us in
adjoining villas.”

“
Follow me,” the concierge
invited.

There was only one word to
describe her villa.
Breathtaking.

As Carlos led her through
the impressive fifteen hundred square-foot space, Marlowe gaped in
awe. Four pairs of French doors lining the opposite wall were left
open, allowing the warm breeze to waft in. Wood and stone had been
incorporated into the villa to create a true rainforest experience.
She loved all the little details. Local artwork peppering the
walls. Polished rock floors. Bamboo ceiling fans. Floor to ceiling
windows. A
secluded garden with a private
pool fed by mineral springs. An outdoor daybed and hammock. A
variety of greenery and colorful plants.

“
The
Nayara Hotel & Gardens is a 5-star member of Small Luxury
Hotels of the World,” Carlos said. “We’ve been acclaimed as one of
the most romantic places in the world. Our hospitality, impeccable
service, fine cuisine, and amazing excursions make Nayara the
premier destination in Costa Rica.”

He led her into the
spacious bedroom, with wooden floors and a colossal four-poster bed
with sheer curtains tied to the posts. The concierge walked to a
pair of doors and opened them with a flourish. An enormous walk-in
closet was on the other side. Several outfits hung
inside.

“
I believe these will fit
you.”

Marlowe gawked at the vast
array of swimsuits, sundresses, slacks and shorts. Even the shoes
were included. Her eyes roamed across the many pairs of flip-flops,
pumps, and sneakers.

“
How did you know my
size?” she asked.

Roque came up behind her.
“Courtesy of your assistant, Penny.”

“
I’m gonna have a talk
with that girl.”

“
Give her a raise while
you’re at it,” he suggested.

She smirked, but was saved from a reply when
Carlos took over once again.

“
The spa is at your
disposal,” he said. “No appointment is necessary for our VIP
guests. And please feel free to take advantage of our custom tours.
If you need me, please dial zero from your phone or call me anytime
on my cell phone.”

He handed her a business card and then
discreetly made his way from the villa.

Marlowe’s eyes flitted to the oversized
bathroom back in the direction of the closet. She turned to Roque.
“Really, do I need all these clothes for three days?”

“
Is there no pleasing you,
woman? First, you complain that you have nothing to wear. Now,
you’re complaining about having too many outfits.”

She laughed. “You’re right.”

“
Whoa! Let me write this
on the calendar. Marlowe Jones admitted I was right about
something.”

“
Okay, don’t push
it.”

He invaded her personal space, so close she
could feel his breath on her cheek. “I told you. I’m taking care of
all the details for the next three days. Relax and enjoy it.”

“
I’m just not used to
having someone plan everything. Usually, I’m the one in
control.”

“
Well, get used to me
taking charge. I don’t give up control, especially in the
bedroom.”

A spark of excitement coursed through her.
“What about the bathroom?”

He grinned. “Is that a challenge?”

“
Of course.”

“
I like
challenges.”

“
I know.”

Roque swept her into his arms and carried
her to the oversized tub. She held her breath as he unbuttoned his
shirt, revealing a sculpted chest and a six-pack. She couldn’t
resist trailing her fingers over his rock-hard abs. Her heart
crashed against her ribs as she took in his hungry gaze. There was
no mistaking what he wanted from her.

“
What about dinner?” she
teased.

“
The feast I have in mind
isn’t on any menu.”

Roque
pulled her into his embrace and crushed her mouth to his. If
their kiss on the plane was soft as raindrops, this one was a
raging storm. His tongue swept inside her mouth, demanding entry.
Her lips parted and she eagerly succumbed, allowing him
unadulterated access. They explored each other’s mouths, tasting,
nibbling, stroking. Her mouth was fused tightly to his. She
couldn’t get enough of him.

As his hands roamed the contours of her
body, heat erupted between her thighs. Roque’s fingers were like
kindling, stroking the embers of a potentially dangerous fire.
Then, as suddenly as he’d pulled her into his arms, he abruptly
released her.

His husky voice penetrated the sensual fog
surrounding her. “Do you still want to stop and eat dinner?”

Breathless, she gazed into his eyes. Her
heart pounded in her ears like a steel drum. Her coochie throbbed
relentlessly. “To hell with dinner. All I want to taste is
you.”

Roque’s heart palpitated upon hearing
Marlowe’s admission. She grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and
pulled him toward her again. This time, she was the aggressor,
sliding her tongue smoothly into his mouth. He accepted her
invitation, placing his hands on her waist and grinding his pelvis
against hers. He was harder than concrete, and he wanted her to
know it. He suckled her tongue, diving deep, then pulling back to
tease and nibble her lips, then delving back in deep again.

He’d planned to romance her and then show
her a night of passion she wouldn’t forget. But the sight of her
made his blood run hot with need. No dinner was going to sate the
kind of hunger he had right now.

Unable to slow the speeding locomotive of
lust inside him, Roque yanked the snaps on her dress, causing the
soft material to slide from her body to the tiled marble floor. Her
voluptuous breasts sat high on her chest, supported by an intricate
contraption of wire and lace that unhooked from the front.

“
Beautiful,” he
murmured.

He dipped his head low and feasted,
showering each dark nipple with lavish attention. He pulled the
puckered buds into his mouth and softly licked and caressed each
one. He liked it rough, but he had enough sense to slow down when
it came to sampling a woman’s breasts. He planned on kissing every
inch of Marlowe’s delectable skin until she begged for mercy.

But Marlowe was no innocent bystander. Roque
quickly found out she wasn’t the type of female to lay back and
wait for a man to service her. She boldly explored his body,
reaching inside his pants and fondling his stiff erection. When he
felt her slender fingers wrap around his penis, he growled with
pleasure.

It was obvious they wanted each other badly.
Foreplay was divided in half as they frantically sought each
other’s pleasure zones. Within minutes, Roque had her panties off.
He pushed her up against the shower wall. He’d seen her naked body
before, but the fact that she was hot and ready to be fucked sent
him into overdrive. He reached into his back pocket for the foil
packet he’d put there earlier. He quickly sheathed himself.
Bursting with need, he thrust himself inside her. A sea of milky
wetness greeted him as he pushed deep. His pride soared when he
heard Marlowe’s gasp of pleasure pierce the air. Her reaction
fueled his movements. He was glad to know he made her feel as good
as she was making him feel.

He plunged in, driving deeply and thrusting
harder with each successive stroke. Marlowe clasped her legs around
his back, her silky thighs pulling him further into her wet
center.

“
That’s it, baby,” he
coaxed. “Let me in.”

She answered by digging the tips of her
nails into the meat of his deltoids. The pain was pleasurable,
spurring him to increase his frenzied pace. He cupped her ass with
both hands as he drove into her, using the wall for leverage.

“
Yes! Yes!” she
screamed.

He’d found her sweet spot. He relentlessly
pumped with rapid thrusts. He refused to stop until he assured her
ultimate satisfaction. His grunts of pleasure mingled with her
high-pitched peals of ecstasy. He stroked faster, harder, deeper,
stronger. And Marlowe encouraged him, by opening wide, and
thrusting her pelvis against his. She matched his rhythm. Her slick
walls eagerly welcomed him, allowing him to effortlessly slide in
and out with no resistance.

Too late, he found himself in trouble. He
was falling into a sweet vortex he couldn’t escape from—nor did he
want to. A red-hot heat consumed him, engulfing his body in flames.
He fought to maintain control, but he lost it when he felt the
urgent spasms of Marlowe’s pussy pulsating and throbbing around his
dick.

She cried out, riding the wave of an orgasm
and shuddering against him.

His violent climax followed hers, a raw
explosion that rocked him to his core.

“
Marlowe!” he called out
hoarsely.

He held tightly to her, savoring the
pulsating rhythm of his release as it finally ebbed from a violent
eruption to slow-moving lava.

Afterwards, they lay spooning each other on
the massive bed, the cleft of Marlowe’s backside resting erotically
against the base of his cock. Roque stroked her hair as a feeling
of unease gnawed at his gut. This was supposed to be a pleasurable
weekend. He’d planned to rock her world. Get her out of his system.
Take her back to Miami and be done with her. But he knew from being
with her one time, that mission wouldn’t be so easy. Marlowe wasn’t
the kind of woman a man could forget. In his quest to dominate her,
he’d gotten caught up. Shouting her name like some pussy-whipped
lover. That wasn’t supposed to happen. He had to regain control,
soon.