The truth was, I was scared. I didn’t want to wake up and find this was all a beautiful dream.
Vincenzo pushed away from the door, stalking toward me. Those dark brown eyes turned black as the hunter approached. There was no running. No hiding from this man.
So, I reached out, sank my fingers into the soft material of his shirt, and pulled him close. His mouth was on mine a moment later. The kiss was hungry. A desperate claim, full of starvation.
Vincenzo’s tongue slid against the seam of my lips, and I opened, inviting him to stake his claim. I moaned as his tongue lashed against mine. Those strong hands slid down my body. He squeezed my ass.
“Fucking gorgeous,” he groaned against my mouth. “These muscles are still as strong and tight as ever.”
I grinned and thanked my obsession with Pilates for keeping my lower half athletic. “You’re welcome.”
Vincenzo growled and sank his teeth into my lower lip. “I’m going to fuck this ass.”
He squeezed it again, touch bruising.
I let out a small squeak when he lifted me and set me on the L counter. “I don’t know about that….”
“Do you trust me?” His hands skated around my body, finding the zipper and carefully tugging it down.
With my body? It wasn’t even a question.
“Yes,” I breathed, letting him have this truth.
“Do you trust me to take care of you?” He peeled off the dress.
This time the word was a whisper, caught in my throat. “Yes.”
“And do you trust me to give you everything you need?” The question was broken by kisses he peppered over my shoulders, my neck, the curve of my collarbone.
“Yes, Enzo, I trust you,” I moaned.
“Thank fuck.” He tore the rest of the dress. The fabric crackled as it ripped in pieces.
I gasped in a sharp protest, but he moved back and wrenched his shirt over his body. The words died as I took a good look at the beauty laid before me. There wasn’t much time to enjoy the view, though, because he stepped into me, pressing his fingers between my legs.
“This is mine.” His words thrilled me. “I’ll burn every lie, every fear, every shadow that tries to take you from my hands.”
My heart flipped inside my chest.
Vincenzo reached around and unclasped my bra, tossing it aside. He pulled me against him, leaned down, and fastened his wicked mouth around my nipple.
I moaned, digging my fingers into his arms. An anchor, steady and sure. That tongue. This man! He was good. Right. Mine. I ached for him. Ached with the desperation of years spent apart.
“Enzo,” I whimpered.
“Hush, fiore, I know what you need.” A kiss pressed against my breast before he moved to the other side.
“No,” I protested. “Not here.”
He pulled back, gaze dark and wicked hot.
“Bedroom,” I breathed.
“Soon.”
Believing his promise, I wrapped my legs around his middle, trying and failing to find the friction I desperately craved. But Vincenzo splayed his hands on my thighs, forcing them open. He dipped lower, feathering kisses down my stomach. Crouching before me, he shoved his face between my legs and inhaled deeply against my panties.
The action was primal, full of a carnal claim.
