His expression was inscrutable. “Don’t say anything. Let me show you what I am meaning,” his voice was huskier and his accent thicker.
“Sabato…”
He shook his head. “We are not going to sleep together now, cara. That is a long way down the track. There are many, many, many things you need to experience before that.” He linked his fingers with hers, and silently pulled on her hand. It occurred to Emily that she could say something. That if she wanted to leave, then this was her opportunity.
But she didn’t. In fact, she desperately wanted to stay. There was not a single doubt in her mind. For the pleasure of being with Sabato, she would almost have sold her soul. And so she followed behind him, all the way into a bedroom that was bigger than her apartment.
“I’m going to undress you,” he said quietly. His eyes searched hers, looking for her reaction.
Emily was incapable of speech. She nodded, then watched as he stepped forward. Slowly, painfully slowly, he undi
d each button of her blouse, until it was open at the front, exposing the simple black bra she was wearing. His hands were warm as they ran over her stomach, and higher, to cup her breasts beneath the flimsy material. He circled her breasts until her nipples were hard beneath his thumbs, then he glided the fabric of her shirt from her body. Her skin was over-sensitised; every nerve ending in her body was alert and active.
He undid the bra easily, giving her a brief reminder of how comfortable he was in this situation. She ignored the slice of reality. She didn’t need to think about Sabato Montepulciano’s previous conquests. In that moment, for that morning, she was his.
His eyes were heavy on hers, his own desire apparent. “Lesson number one,” he growled against her ear. He caught her wrists in his, and held them behind her back. His mouth took possession of one of her nipples, and Emily cried out as the unfamiliar sensations caused an avalanche of new feelings. Her body was weak. She felt like she might fall to the floor. His stubble was rough against her soft flesh, the perfect contrast to his mouth – warm and giving. He dragged his tongue across her chest, focussing on the other breast. He pulled it between his teeth and rolled it until she was almost convulsing from the persistent waves of pleasure.
“Please, Sabato,” she cried out, her eyes showing her confusion as the first hint of orgasm sent unnerving sensations spiralling through her body. “Oh, God, what is this?”
He pulled on her wrists a little, so that she bent backwards, and he ran his tongue down her chest, towards her belly button. Yes, he needed her too; he perfectly understood her desperation.
He undid her pants and lifted her to the bed in one smooth movement. He positioned her in the middle. “I want you to watch your beautiful dawn, while your body comes alive for the first time,” he commanded huskily. He disposed of her underwear, then moved himself, so that he could take her breasts in his mouth once more.
Emily’s cries were shrieks in the air. She was an animal, reduced to her most base emotions and needs. A carnal lust that defied understanding groaned through her. It was not possible to express with words, it simply was. She dug her feet into the bed, her knees directed towards the sky. Sabato ran his fingers down her body, and scooped his palms beneath her buttocks.
When his tongue, his powerful, distracting tongue, connected with her most private self, Emily arched her back and sobbed. “Sabato,” she said, a momentary flash of embarrassment at having someone down there immediately silenced by the total sense of need that was making all of her resolves crumble. “Shit,” she swore now, though she rarely did. Waves of something totally unfamiliar were making her whole body shake.
“Look out the window. Every time you watch the dawn, I want you to remember this.” He was possessive, and it was incredibly erotic.
Emily focussed her eyes on the burgeoning day, cresting over the park beyond the window. When she thought she was about to fall apart at the seams, he moved a finger gently inside her moist core, and Emily bucked forwards. Her first orgasm was a revelation. Tears sparkled in her eyes as she moaned, over and over, and dug her fingers into the soft quilt.
In, out. In, out. She focussed on her breathing, and tried to bring it back under control. But her lungs were burning, her body was soaring, her mind was exploding. That was sex? That’s what she’d been missing out on? That’s what she’d been avoiding because she never wanted to end up as her mother had? Pregnant and alone as a teenager?
She squeezed her eyes shut and sucked in another deep breath.
“That wasn’t sex,” he said, and Emily realised she must have spoken the words aloud. “It was just an introduction.”
Emily blinked her eyes open, bringing his face into focus. “I just met you.”
“Sometimes it doesn’t make sense.”
“No.” She nodded thickly. It certainly didn’t. Naked on his bed, just as he’d imagined her within moments of their first conversation. Relief flooded his system, but something else too. Regret? Regret that he’d taken this beautiful girl and made her just another of his sexual playthings?
Oh, he hadn’t yet, but she was putty in his bed, and it was only a matter of time.
The two sides of Sabato were at war. The moralistic man he was, most of the time, was attempting to drown out the Sabato who was renowned for his voracious sexual appetite. Just this once, moral Sabato was urging, stop thinking with your cock.
“Do you want more, cara?” Sensual Sabato asked, bringing his body over hers and moving his erection, strong and obvious through his clothes, towards her entrance. He ground himself against her and was grateful for the barrier of his suit. God, he wanted to drive himself into her more than he’d ever wanted another woman. Were it not for the tuxedo, he suspected he might have done just that.
Emily scanned his face, focussing on his mouth. That magical, beautiful mouth. “Is there really more?”
His laugh was soft. “So much more. Stay with me today and I will show you.”
Chapter 3
He carried her as though she were made of glass. Fragile and unique. He held her cradled against her chest, and laid her in the bath. It was warm and bubbled, the fragrance was vanilla and orange blossom.
Emily was struggling to keep her eyes open, and again, Sabato felt that stab of guilt. He should be letting her sleep, not driving her wild over and over again. Her eyes fluttered closed, her lashes two perfect black fans against her soft cheeks. “How old are you, Agnes?” He asked quietly, kneeling beside the bath. He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, and reached for the sponge. He lathered it with soap and began to sponge her exposed back.