“I let you undress me,” he says in a heated whisper. “Don’t tease me, woman. Off with the clothes or I’ll take you now.”
Oh, what a big, scary threat.
I bite my cheek to keep from smiling and reach for his shoes. I unlace them, one after the other, my movements a bit more hurried than before.
I place the shoes beside him, and he steps out of his pants. I fold those, too, and place them next to his shoes, then rise to my feet. My head hits right around mid-chest for him.
“Let’s get the rest of these clothes off,” I whisper. I’m eager to see him bare-chested, though the sight of him in nothing but boxer briefs and a tee is something I could definitely get used to. “And what’s the fun if I don’t get to tease you a little?”
That earns me a good smack to the ass. I come up on my toes and grin at him.
“Marialena,” he warns.
I finish unbuttoning his dress shirt then tug at the hem of his tee, drag it to his neck. I have a little fun before I take it off. With a quick flick of my wrist, I tug it over his face. Holding the tee in place I kiss his neck.
“That’s it,” he says, his voice muffled in fabric. He yanks the shirt off and grabs my wrists.
“Salvatore! I haven’t even gotten to ogle your chest yet! I need to, like, gape a bit. Run my hands all over your muscles. I gave up a lot to come here, the least you can do—”
I’m up in the air and over his shoulder seconds before he gives me a sharp spank. I scissor my legs, kicking, and reach my hand out to his bicep.
“I can at leastfeelthose guns.”
“You’ll feel those guns alright,” he says, his voice touched with something I haven’t heard before—amusement?
My pulse races because I know what comes after this, what happens next. I’ve tried to put it off with a little provocation, and we’ve had some distractions, but there’s no more putting off the inevitable. The tangled web of emotion nearly chokes me. I didn’t know it was possible to feel both aroused and excited and absolutely terrified at the very same time.
He makes short work of getting us to the enormous circular bed, then lays me down on my back, more gently than I anticipate.
“How about you ogle while I taste your pussy?” he suggests, those deep blue eyes darker now, stormy and focused.
Uh… not sure how I feel about that plan. I look down at the tiny layer of fabric that separates the bundle of nerves between my legs from his mouth and suddenly realize there’s not a hell of a lot to stop him. But I’m caught up by the way his eyes rove over my body, the way he swallows, and the certain knowledge that helikeswhat he sees.
That’s a good start, I reason.
“That seems like… week two kind of stuff,” I say, my voice shaking. “Notfirst night.” What if he doesn’t… like when he goesdown there? I mean, I wouldn’t. My mind races with the thought of what truly terrifies me.
He doesn’t bother to reply to my futile protests, but only drags me to the edge of the bed and spreads my legs.
“By week two,” he says in a husky whisper, the heat of his breath cascading down the tender inside of my legs like molten honey, “you’ll know the feel of my tongue on your pussy. The feel of my cock stretching you wide. The heat and feel of me when I come inside you.”
I stop breathing.
“By week two, you’ll know the feel of my teeth, my mouth, my hands, and my cock. You’ll know what it’s like to be pinned down and fucked, taken from behind, and we’ll start working on fucking you in every hole in your body.”
Fuck.
Fuck.
Every hole in my body means….
I squeeze my eyes shut and will myself to breathe again. Maybe I married someone with, like… compulsive sexual disorder. He’s a sex fiend. A deviant. Anymphomaniac.
Whodoesthat kind of thing?
I suddenly regret my virginity.
Maybe if I wasn’t so new to all this I wouldn’t be as petrified. I would know what I like by now. Maybe I wouldn’t feel my hips jerk upward, needing more of him, at the slightest brisk breath of hot air.