We walk down a hallway, but I don’t look inside the guestrooms. When we enter his bedroom, I take in the king-sized bed, the cream bedding, the walk-in closet, and a seating area near the floor-to-ceiling windows. The heavy drapes are shut, so I can’t see the view. He sets my overnight bag down on the bed, then gestures to our left.
“The bathroom is through that door. Feel free to change anything in the penthouse. I want you to make it your home.”
The air smells familiar, just like Christiano.
“So you’ll be okay with pink covers on the bed?” I tease him.
With a serious expression on his face, he nods.“If that’s what you want.” Coming closer, he places his hand on my side andgives me a quick kiss. “Change into something comfortable while I start with the food.”
I turn around and gesture at my back. “Will you help me with the buttons, please?”
“Of course.” I feel his fingers brush against my skin as he undoes one button after the other, then he pushes the silk and chiffon over my shoulders, and as the dress hits the floor, I hear him inhale a deep breath.
“You in white lace panties, a bra, and high heels just became my favorite thing.”
“Yeah?” I keep standing with my back to him, and when his warm breath hits my shoulder, goose bumps spread over my skin.
His mouth moves up to my neck, and I shiver from how sensual it feels.
“Christ, I’m addicted to your scent,” he murmurs, his tone low and ravenous. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
He grips hold of my left buttcheek while his other arm comes around my front, and when his palm covers my breast, my head falls back against his chest.
“Tell me you need me as much as I need you,” he orders near my ear.
Placing my hands on his thighs, I rub up and down, and for once, I’m honest as I admit, “I need you more than you can ever need me.”
His palm brushes down my front and slips beneath my panties. When he drags his finger over my clit and opening, a groan rumbles from his chest. “Already so wet for me.”
My eyes drift shut from how good it feels to have him touching me, but suddenly, he pulls away.
When I glance over my shoulder, I see he’s unbuttoning his shirt. I turn around so I can watch as he gets undressed, but hekeeps on his boxers, and taking my hand, he pulls me from the bedroom.
“I’m so confused right now.”
Letting out a burst of laughter, he says, “We’re cooking like this. I want to see how far I can push you before you beg me to fuck you.”
“Oh, game on.”
When we walk into the kitchen, I pull my hand free, and opening the fridge, I make a show of bending over as I take out the mushrooms and ham.
“Goddamn, princess,” Christiano groans. “What a fucking sight.”
I straighten up and set the ingredients down on the island before I grab the heavy cream and a pack of fettuccine from the pantry.
Christiano stands dead still, his eyes not leaving me for a second.
“I thought you were going to help,” I tease him.
“Uh-huh,” he mumbles as if he’s stuck in a trance.
When I walk toward the block of knives, he jumps into action and says, “I’ll do all the chopping. I don’t want you accidentally cutting yourself.”
As he pulls a knife out of the wooden block, I lean into him and press a kiss to where my name is tattooed on his chest. “So sweet.”
“Only for you.” He brings the tip of the knife to between my breasts, and with a quick flick, he cuts through the lace, and the cups fall away. “Much better.”
Dropping the knife on the counter, his arm shoots around me, and I’m lifted off my feet. He carries me to the island and sets me down on it while bending to suck one of my nipples into his mouth.
