‘Me too,’ she said on a breathless whisper so full of longing, I was surprised my head didn’t explode.
I lay down beside her, forced myself to go slow. She might know what she did to me, but that didn’t mean I didn’t want to cherish this moment. I couldn’t offer her permanence. This would be a one-time deal. But it would be the best deal she’d ever had.
I brushed my thumb over the rigid nipple visible through her dress. The violent shiver which racked her body at the light caress made me chuckle.
‘Dio, when did you grow into such a beautiful woman?’ I said, because it still puzzled me. One minute she had been tagging around with my kid brother, climbing trees, causing trouble, and then a month ago everything had changed. She’d walked into the summer ball on Remy’s arm, her curves spotlighted by the dress, her eyes connecting with mine, and all I’d wanted to do was ditch the woman on my own arm and fall to my knees in front of her.
Remy had been teasing me about my reaction ever since.
‘Years ago,’ she whispered.
‘What about Remy?’ I asked as I trailed my thumb over the pulse point in her neck—but the truth was I was finding it hard to care about my brother’s claim on her. If Remy cared about her, why wasn’t he here instead of heading out for the evening in Nice with a group of his friends? ‘I thought you were his girl.’
She blinked and something crossed her face, but then she said, ‘I’m nobody’s girl. I’m a woman, and I make my own decisions.’
Blood pounded in my groin and I gave up trying to think coherently as I scooped a handful of her hair into my fist and tugged her lips back to mine. I’d always tried to protect Remy, not just from our father’s anger but also our mother’s neglect. But I wanted to take this one thing for myself. How could it be wrong when I needed her so much? Remy had always joked about their relationship, never staked a claim to her. Why should I care, if he didn’t?
I sunk into the fragrant mass, which smelled of flowers and sea, as my mouth captured hers. She bowed back, her breasts rubbing against my chest like a cat desperate to be stroked.
I cupped the warm flesh, slipped my hand beneath the bodice. My hunger roared as I found naked flesh and her nipple swelled against my palm.
Dio! She wasn’t wearing a bra.
All the fantasies I’d had about her in the last month, fantasies I had tried so hard to tame, flooded through my brain and had every last molecule of reason plummeting into my pants.
Her palm cradled me, gauging the size and weight of my erection.
I jolted. Her touch was like lightning. My palm glided up her thigh under the floaty fabric to trace the sensitive seam of flesh at the top of her leg. She shuddered and moaned, the raw thirst like a flare to my libido.
I pressed the heel of my hand against her vulva, felt the damp heat of her panties then slipped my finger inside the gusset to find the plump lips of her sex swollen and ready for me.
Grasping handfuls of the dress, I tugged it up.
‘Sit up,’ I ordered, and she obeyed, allowing me to drag the garment over her head. I threw it away then helped her to wriggle out of her panties.
Her naked body glowed in the moonlight, the sprinkle of freckles across her collarbone like a trail of stars leading me home.
I captured the stiff peak between hungry lips. I flicked and nuzzled the pebbled tip until she was panting with need, while my fingers explored the slick seam of her sex and found the swollen nub.
As if she had been primed and ready for me, she choked off a sob.
‘Come for me, bella notte,’ I demanded, frantic to see her shatter.
Her cry echoed in the night and drifted away on the sea breeze. Ecstasy surged through me. I wasn’t a shadow, I was a man. I wasn’t a nobody, I was somebody. At least, to Belle—whatever my father shouted at me.
Her emerald eyes stared at me, unfocused and dazed, her sweet skin flushed a beautiful pink.
Suddenly I was frantically releasing myself from my trousers, positioning her hips. I couldn’t wait any longer. I had no protection with me. I’d never taken a woman without protection in my life, but I promised myself I would pull out before it was too late.
She wrapped her fingers around my shaft, her thumb trailing across the head, and I had to bite off a sob of my own. But I forced myself to slow down, to ask, ‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes,’ she said, her confidence and certainty humbling me.
Notching my erection to her entrance, I pressed in slowly. I forced myself not to thrust too hard. She was tight, incredibly tight, but she didn’t flinch or turn away. She lifted her hips and wrapped her legs around my waist. Welcoming me home as she clung to me, her nails dug into my shoulders, only increasing the sensory overload.
At last I was lodged deep. Our ragged breathing sounded loud in the quiet night. I felt conquered and all-conquering.
‘Are you okay?’ I asked. Had I ever felt this incredible inside a woman before? I didn’t think so. ‘You’re very tight.’