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His hand was on her bare belly, fingers splayed wide, the tips touching the underside of both breasts, causing her breath to come in ragged pants. There was no hiding from him. He knew what he did to her. He’d kissed her and that was all it took for her body to go soft and pliant, melting into his, desperate to have him inside her.

His fingers moved back and forth over her stomach, stroking mesmerizing caresses there that soothed the fear in her yet fed her fierce arousal at the same time. Her fingers curled into his hair as he pressed a kiss to her belly button and then swirled his tongue there. She gasped, and her hips bucked involuntarily when his teeth scraped her skin and then nipped, causing a little sting.

“Are you paying attention, gattina?”

“Yes.” She was, but she could barely get the affirmative past her throat. Flames licked at her skin along the path his mouth took. She was acutely aware of him kissing, licking and biting his way down her body to the tangle of fiery curls covering her mound.

“Vittorio.” His name came out a moan.

“Lay still for me, bella. We have to be careful of your shoulder. If you keep squirming around like that, I might have to punish you.”

Grace couldn’t stop squirming, not when his breath felt hot between her legs. He caught each leg behind the knee and pulled it back, holding each with his arms but leaving his hands free. He slipped off the bed so that his head was between her legs. He turned and licked up her thigh, making her gasp at the sensation. Fingers of desire danced up and down her thighs. Her hips bucked again when his hot breath bathed her sex.

It was too much, and he hadn’t even gotten started. “You said no punishments,” she managed to gasp, her entire body shuddering with need.

“I might have misspoken.” His tongue swiped across her entrance, collecting liquid heat and driving her up the wall.

She cried out and curled her fingers tighter in his hair. Nothing, nothing had ever felt that good. “So, handcuffs are in . . .” She could barely get the words out, air refusing to move through her lungs.

“And ropes. I’ve been studying for several years now, and lately have really picked up the art of shibari from my brother. He uses his skills mainly for art while I . . .” Implying he didn’t. Teasing her.

She laughed because he made her feel as if she was his everything. His mouth. His hands. Those eyes of his moving over her body and then settling on her face when he delivered his playful, but truthful statement. Her laugh turned to a gasp as he kissed his way up her other thigh, using lips, teeth and tongue. Every single nip sent lightning flicks through her bloodstream.

She couldn’t think. At. All. It was impossible. Her world had suddenly narrowed to Vittorio. His hands kept her thighs apart easily, giving him full access to her, and his mouth felt suddenly ravenous. He was doing what he said—having her for dessert. Her body responded in a way she’d never experienced, coiling tighter and tighter, the pressure tremendous.

“Vittorio.” She breathed his name, unsure if she wanted him to stop or to continue, but there was no laughter in her anymore. A dark shiver crept down her spine. He’d said he’d have her for dessert and he’d meant it. She knew he’d meant it when he’d talked about ropes and handcuffs.

Grace’s body shuddered, somewhere between excitement and fear of the unknown. Little flames licked at her thighs, everywhere his skin touched hers, as if he’d set off an inferno and she was catching fire right along with him. Deep inside, she felt her heartbeat. Pulsing. Aching. Heat spread through her from the inside out. All the while the pressure kept building. The coiling inside tightened. Swelled.

Everywhere Vittorio touched her on her skin, he left pulses of heat, tiny flickers of electricity that crackled and zapped. She’d never felt so sensitive. He wasn’t touching her breasts, but she felt that buildup moving through her entire body, so that her nipples were stiff and aching. Her breasts throbbed to that heartbeat deep inside. The sensations were becoming overwhelming. She sobbed his name. It broke from her like an amulet that would keep her safe.

“Let go, bella. Just relax and let go.”

His voice was velvet soft. Low. Compelling. Impossible not to obey. Heat exploded through her. She felt the gathering wave begin somewhere deep and spread through her like a wildfire, swamping her, encompassing her entire body. The sensation took her over, rushing like a freight train. Her back arched. Her toes curled. A cry escaped her throat and there was no repressing the sound. Her body pulsed, alive, shocked, the sensation beyond her wildest imagination.


Tags: Christine Feehan Shadow Riders Fantasy