"I admit my mistakes when I am wrong," he peers into my eyes, "but only for you, Beauty."
My stomach flip-flops; I clench my thighs. Gosh, can he be any hotter? Especially when he’s being so nice to me? I push back my seat, rise to my feet, place my blanket and napkin on my chair, then walk around the table. His forehead quirks as I raise his arm then sink down in his lap.
His gaze heats as I twine my fingers with his, then reach up and brush his lips with mine. "This is nice, isn’t it?" I murmur, and his breath catches. I press tiny kisses down the sharp edge of his jaw, to the hollow at the base of his throat. I lick the skin there and his hardness stabs into the side of my thigh. I bite down and a low growl ripples up his chest. He wraps his fingers around the back of my neck and tugs. I tip up my chin, stare into those blue eyes that blaze back at me.
He rakes his gaze down my features, to my lips, then back up to my eyes, "The answer, Beauty," he whispers, "is still no."
I scowl, "I didn’t ask for anything."
"But you were going to."
"No, I wasn’t,"
One side of his lips curls, "Still lying to me, darlin’?"
I try to pull away, but he tightens his grip. Goosebumps pop on my skin, my pussy trembles, and moisture laces my core. Shit. Why is it that when he begins to get rough with me, my body responds with such ardor?
"Let go of me," I say in a low voice and his grin only widens.
"That’s not the message you were conveying a few moments ago, Beauty." He brings his hand up to cup my breast, and a moan bleeds from my lips. His gaze sharpens. "Your breasts are more tender, more sensitive than they used to be," he murmurs as he brushes his thumb across my nipple. Heat races down my spine and I shift in his lap. His thickness seems to lengthen against my thigh as he leans in closer, closer…
He brushes his nose against my throat and inhales deeply, "You smell of moonflowers, with a hint of something deeper, more complex." He sniffs me again, then glances up at me, "You smell the same, and yet, different." He peers into my features, "Like you are changing, even while, at heart, you are the same girl you once were."
"Wow," I swallow, "you can sense all that?"
A crease appears between his eyebrows. "Only with you, apparently."
He leans in, nuzzles my cheek, "You smell like you are mine."
My stomach flutters and my toes curl. Oh, my God, if anyone could bring me to orgasm just by his words, it would be this man. I turn my face toward him and our lips meet and… It’s unlike any of our previous kisses. It’s soft and tender, with just a hint of that unleashed dominance that is so very Mika; and yet, he’s holding back the full force of his personality, which thrums in the background. And that only turns me on further.
I lean into the kiss, but he tightens his grip on my neck and holds me in place. He proceeds to leisurely nibble on my mouth, lick my lips, brush his mouth over mine again and again, until our breaths mingle and our chests rise and fall in unison, until the evidence of his arousal seems to grow so solid between us that I am sure his shaft is going to stab through his pants. My core clenches and moisture trickles down the inside of my thigh. I grind my butt into his thickness and a groan vibrates up his chest.
"Fuck," he murmurs, "you are killing me, Beauty."
"You are doing it to yourself, Capo," I bite down on his lower lip and he visibly jerks.
He pulls away, stares into my features, "You’re tempting me to break my self-imposed abstinence."
"Why don’t you?" I scowl at him, "This entire no-sex thing is ridiculous."
"You’re cute when you are angry," he chuckles.
I open my mouth to tell him off, only he’s already there. He kisses me. I part my lips and he sweeps in, thank god! He sucks on my tongue, sips from me, consumes me, devours me like he is hungry and I am his last meal. My head spins and my toes curl; he pulls away from me and I slump.
I hear footsteps behind me but don’t turn.
"You okay?" he murmurs as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear in a gesture that is becoming familiar to me.
I hear the sound of plates being placed on the table and the spicy scent of food tickles my nose. I turn to find two steaming dishes placed on the table.
"Come va, principessa?" a familiar voice asks.
"Paolo!" I cry in delight. "What a pleasure to see you here."
"And you." His rosy cheeks widen in a big smile.
"What are you doing here?"