She wanted to push him to the very brink. She reached out and took his hand, forcing him to step closer. Taking both his hands, she set them on her hair, murmuring, “Show me what you like.” Then she circled her fingers around the silky muscle that pulsed in anticipation.
He swore heatedly and at length, but for a few precious moments he let her drive him out of his mind until he clasped her upper arms and pulled her to her feet, kissing her with near brutal passion before pulling back and tilting his face to the ceiling, breath hissing like a steam train.
Lauren smiled as he yanked her shirt off her, his eyes nearly blind with passion. She loved it. Loved the feel of the sweat she’d lifted on his skin, the way his heart slammed in the rib cage expanding in labored breaths, the taut thighs that shook when she grazed her hand over his buttocks and down his leg.
Her own arousal was secondary and barely acknowledged until he pressed her beneath him on the bed and held himself above her to look at her nude length in a way that was undeniably proprietary.
Old shyness struck. It was full daylight, the windows only covered by a filmy white curtain. He began setting tiny kisses onto every inch of her, heating the pulse in her wrist, teasing the side of her breast, making her flood with heat when he reached the sensitive crease at the top of her thigh.
“Paolo,” she murmured in a tiny protest.
“Payback is a bitch, tesoro,” he muttered in Italian, sliding low to take ownership of her in the most intimate way.
She shattered and before she could recover, he rose over her.
Lauren was trembling so hard she thought she’d fall apart. He was quivering like a bowstring, his eyes holding hers with the intensity of an aim on a target. His thick hardness slid against wet, welcoming tissues that parted for him and then he was invading, silk into liquid satin, moving deeper, reaching the absolute limit of penetration and filling her up with such incredible hardness that was hot and smooth and oh... A sense of wholeness and completion enveloped her. Joy rippled out from her center, bathing her whole body.#p#????#e#
They both shuddered, her gasp mingling with his jagged exhale. It was too good. She couldn’t hold his gaze, wanted to turn her head and close her eyes, but he murmured, “Look at me. Keep looking at me, cara. Let me watch you... Si, like that...”
He withdrew and returned and she melted. Her insides glowed and expanded and the rush of supreme pleasure was too much to bear. She wanted to throw herself into the inferno, but he held her in hard arms, controlling their movements so his slow thrusts dragged out the pleasure, making it last so they both groaned in abandon.
She couldn’t hold back forever. Unrestrained whimpers escaped her, urging him on and he responded with a snarl and shift to a wilder, deeper thrust. The meltdown started for her and the instant her nails dug into the skin of his back and her spiked heels spurred his buttocks, his neck muscles stood out with strain. His movements became jerky as he claimed her with masculine aggression that pulsed with the hot power of his release. His cries were primal and as unconstrained as hers as the cataclysm enveloped them.
They buried their faces in each other’s neck, clinging on as the final quakes wrung through them, convulsing their bodies.
Bliss filled Lauren, but it ended in a barb. She suspected she might love him. Always had. And it hurt.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“HOW ARE YOU a banker, Paolo?”
Lauren’s lazy, somewhat rhetorical question pulled Paolo from a state of lassitude. They’d been making love on and off for hours. Her thigh was a warm line across his waist, her breasts plump and soft against his ribs. The weight of her head numbed his shoulder, but he didn’t care. At this moment he was a newlywed and everything else was a dot on the horizon.
He yawned and stretched, then snugged her back against his side, saying dryly, “My father died before I could become an astronaut. If we’re going out for dinner, we need to leave soon. Shall I call to have something delivered instead?”
“Delivery sounds good, but was that a joke? About being an astronaut? I mean, I’m sure you could have done it if you wanted to. You went to all those fancy international schools so your education was first-rate and you’re incredibly fit, but really? Is that something you wanted?”
“It was a childish dream. I always knew I had to step into my father’s shoes.”
She came up on an elbow, her kittenish sleepiness replaced by curiosity. “Did you resent that?”
Paolo skimmed a finger along her temple, smoothing back a wisp of her short hair, surprised at how easily she was bringing up the sting of his old regret. “I might have registered my frustration with a few moments of bad judgment.”