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She looked at the small table where the leather outfit was folded neatly and waiting for her to reclaim it after she got out of the tub. She’d done her laps naked and was still without clothes in the hot tub. She was fairly certain Vittorio would have been comfortable in a nudist colony, and he was slowly getting her to be the same way.

“I like giving you the things you ask for,” Grace admitted. “Although you don’t ask me for much.”

“As for you getting pregnant, Grace, you know I want children. Having a family of my own is important to me. Having said that, if, like Francesca, you have problems, or you can’t have children, I would much rather go through my life with you and no children than alone or with someone I didn’t feel this way about. Have no worries. I will love your pregnant body as well as any changes that come after.”

“And if I gain a ton of weight?”

He shrugged. “I guess we’ll both be doing a lot of swimming if it bothers you. Whatever it takes to make you happy. You want to lose it, I’ll instruct Merry to make meals that will help and I’ll exercise with you.”

She believed him. “I think you’re so perfect, Vittorio, that I can’t believe you’re real.”

“No one is perfect, Grace, least of all me. I’m a Ferraro, remember? Our lives aren’t anything like people believe them to be.” His voice was pitched low. Compelling. Almost sad.

Grace knew that was the truth. Vittorio was completely attentive to her. Totally focused on her. She would never have believed him capable of only being with one woman, not when he had the worst reputation ever. She had read so many tabloid stories on him it was ridiculous, and he wasn’t anything at all like the stories she’d read about him. He wasn’t wild, nor was he a partier. He seemed serious most of the time and he was completely devoted to her.

“Something is wrong, Vittorio. Why don’t you just tell me?” she invited, hoping he would tell her whatever had happened at the family meeting that had gotten him so far down.

“Not in here. Let’s dry off and go inside. I could use a drink.”

That shocked her. Alarmed her. Vittorio drank the occasional Scotch, but it was rare. He had a glass of wine with dinner, but no more. If anything, he avoided alcohol.

She stood up the moment he let go of her foot. Whatever was wrong, she was determined to help him. Water poured off her body, ran down her skin in little rivulets. Drops caught on the tips of her breasts and held there for a moment, catching Vittorio’s eye. He leaned down and licked at her nipple, sending a shock of electricity running from her nipple straight to her clit. He got out of the hot tub first and then put both hands on her waist and lifted her out. When he lowered her to set her on her feet, he licked over her left breast and then suckled for a moment, his teeth and tongue wreaking havoc and leaving marks on her fair skin.

Grace stood while he dried off her body. He always dried her off after a shower or bath, his hands gentle but arousing, the towel sliding over her curves and inflaming every cell and nerve ending in her body until she felt like she might die if she didn’t have him.

He handed her the small triangle that was nothing but leather laced together. The thong disappeared between her buttocks and the tiny triangle was partially open where it laced together, showcasing her fiery curls rather than hiding them. The black leather corset was cupless, just cord lacing up the front with straps and buckles up the back and a buckle that went around her neck.

Vittorio buckled the corset in place and then reached around her to cup her breasts as they thrust out of the two holes. He tugged and rolled her nipples until they were standing up for him. She felt boneless and wanton, her body needy for his. She was instantly slick. Blood pounded through her clit and pooled low. Her skin was flushed and her breathing ragged.

Vittorio was always sensual, and he made her feel sensual. The way he looked at her made her feel beautiful. It was an unfamiliar feeling to her, but one she wanted to keep. He made her aware of her body at all times, that he was masculine, and she was feminine.

They walked inside and then down the wide hall to the first sitting room. The views of the lake were beautiful. There were glass sliding walls on three sides of the round turret, and she could look out in any direction and see a wide expanse of water.


Tags: Christine Feehan Shadow Riders Fantasy