She blinked, the Italian words musical and unfamiliar to her.
“You’re sure?”
“Absolutely,” she nodded, her hands lifting, reaching for him as he stepped towards her, bringing his body back over hers, his eyes level with Bronte’s so that he could stare down at her, reading her mind – at least, that’s what it felt like. He separated her thighs, his eyes piercing hers as he nudged his tip at her entrance. She bit down on her lip, a flush of anxiety coursing through her.
“Relax,” he murmured, dropping his head, kissing her gently, his fingers lacing through hers, lifting her hands above her head and pinning them there. “I’ll be gentle.”
She shook her head. “Don’t. Don’t be gentle with me. I don’t want that.”
She couldn’t say how she knew she felt that way but as she said the words she knew they were accurate.
“Sei –,”
“Yes, I’m sure.” She arched her back, a fire ravaging her soul. “Please, Luca, please.”
He kissed her harder then, the pressure of his mouth pressing her back against the mattress, and without warning he thrust into her, hard and fast, his arousal driving to the core of her soul, so deep, so hard, so that she cried out, the sound filling his body, as the unfamiliar sensation of being so full, so stretched, took a moment to adjust to. Then he was moving, in and out, and true to his word, to the promise he’d given her, he wasn’t gentle now either, drawing back hard and driving into her, so she had to bite down on her lip to stop from screaming with the intensity of pleasure that assaulted her.
Then, he was gentle, slowing suddenly, so a different kind of heat and awareness flooded her; arrows of desire shooting through her until she burst apart, pleasure exploding from every pore of her body, and it was no longer possible to be quiet. Her moans filled the room, his rasping breath too; she felt his eyes on her as she came, hard, his gaze watchful, his pleasure obvious at her own lack of control, and then he began to move, before she could even catch her breath, hard and fast now, his fingers plucking her nipples, his mouth dominating hers, demanding something from her she wasn’t sure she could give.
Without warning, another orgasm burst through her and this time, she wasn’t alone. This time, he held her tight, his own body in a spasm of release as he kissed her, emptying himself into her, so she felt every pulse of his muscles, every bit of his pleasure vibrating through her over-sensitive muscles.
Their breath mingled; bodies were entangled, limbs woven, intimate, joined. She rolled her head from one side to the other, partly to make sure it was still attached to her neck. She felt as though every bone in her body had turned to mush.
He pushed up, so that he could see her, his eyes scanning her face. Bronte was surprised; she didn’t feel even a hint of embarrassment. She’d thought there might be that, or regret, something negative, but instead she just felt – alive. A rush of joyous awareness was warming her from the inside out.
“So that’s what really great sex is like, huh?”
His laugh was a deep rumble. “I’m flattered.”
She lifted a hand, running it over his cheek, still not believing she could actually touch him so freely when – she now admitted – it was all she’d been wanting to do since he’d picked her up on Thursday afternoon.
“I’m serious. That was – wow.”
Another laugh. “Wow is good.”
“Wow is very good.”
He shifted onto his elbows, high enough to see her clearly. “I thought I’d regret this.”
“So did I.”
“You don’t?”
She shook her head. “Not at all.”
“I’m glad.”
Her eyes shifted a little, a frown crossing her face. “I didn’t expect this. This weekend, I mean.”
“I know that.”
She nodded. “I guess you have women throwing themselves at you all the time.”
He kissed the tip of her nose, the gesture so sweet and unexpected that her heart twisted. “Is that a question?”
“Oh, I just meant that perhaps you thought I intended to seduce you or something. That I was tilting my cap at you.”
He burst out laughing. “Yes, a perfect seduction,” he agreed. “A drunken strip, then an attempt to push me away for kissing you briefly, then an argument, and then, finally sex.”