Scarlett
What Brando had done to me earlier, in front of the mirror, had set fire to his desire. We were in the midst of a consuming flame, close to the moment of explosion.
Practice indeed.
We were both slick with sweat, driving each other, one action causing a more powerful reaction. He was close to making me scream and tearing me apart.
Breathless, reckless, and alive only within each other.
Rarely did I wield my power against him, knowing I was no match for what he could do to me, but tonight I wantedhimto be louder than me.
He made a strangled noise in his throat, the headboard beating in time to his powerful strokes. He almost lost himself then but tamed the urge.
Again, I tightened myself around him.
“Scarlett.” My name was a clear warning and a plea on his tongue.
He withdrew and came back with a move of his own, one that I thought might have shot me into a pleasure-filled space. The noise I made drowned his own.
I wasn't giving up. Not yet. I wanted him to lose every ounce of control. I forced my eyes open and held his, allowing all that he felt to flow through me.
He cursed,and I clutched around him three times in quick succession, like a fisted pulse.
This time my name came out as a guttural growl, nowhere near quiet. His beautiful body reared over mine—mine bowed to his—hands clasped on the headboard, the veins running underneath the skin of his arms as swollen as he was, and he lost himself in an explosive, warm flood.
I came a breath behind, and still louder than him.
“You are a wicked, wicked woman, Signora Fausti,” he said, looking down at me, eyes hooded.
A bead of sweat ran from his forehead, down the slope of his nose, dangling there for the briefest of seconds before it fell to my panting chest. His arms trembled from the effort, or from the rush of feelings behind what we had just done. Perhaps both.
I ran my fingertips up and down his sides. His ribs were strong and secure under my hands. “So I’ve been told.” I smiled, as innocent as possible. I reached for him, wanting his heart closer. “Come anchor me,mio angelo. I’m floating.”
He grinned at this and did as I asked, taking me in his arms and pulling me as close to him as possible. We stuck together, our skin cooling from exertion.
After kissing his arms, I snuggled even closer. My fingers danced across his skin, and I watched as they moved.
“Say it, baby.” He rested his mouth and chin against my shoulder.
“Why?” The word came out excited, anxious, but quiet for all that. He claimed that Charles had caused the sudden change of mind. That was part of it, I knew, but not all.
Kissing behind my ear, he kept one arm around me, but used the other to prop himself up so he could see me. His stare weighed on my face.
“You asked about Luca again.”
The two fingers that trailed up and down his arm froze. “Is that what this is about?” I asked.
“Not entirely, no.” He sighed. “I gave you the truth. What I saw down there earlier, when you were holding—” He swallowed hard. “I—”
“I know,” I said, stroking again. “That should be your baby in my arms.”
“Yeah.” The reply came out soft and unguarded.
“We try for a month and—”
“Then—”
“I know, you don’t have to say it,” I said, not wanting to hear the rest.
