"You're so wet, Olivia," he says, his voice a low growl against my ear. "So wet, so ready for me."
I can only nod, my throat too tight to form words.
He lowers his head and brushes his lips against mine.
It's a soft, gentle kiss, a stark contrast to the wild, frantic energy that’s been building between us.
He kisses me again, and I open my mouth, deepening the kiss, my tongue tangling with his.
I want to devour him, to consume him, to make him as crazy for me as I am for him.
But he pulls away, a slow smile spreading across his face.
"Not yet," he says, and the words are a fresh torture.
He then pulls away and slowly, deliberately, unbuttons his shirt, revealing the hard planes of his chest, the lines of muscle that speak of discipline and control.
I know what's coming, and my body clenches in anticipation.
He shrugs the shirt off, letting it fall to the floor.
My breath catches in my throat.
I've seen him shirtless before, but not like this. Not in the soft glow of candlelight, with his eyes burning with a hunger that makes my own ache in response.
I watch, mesmerized, at every new inch of skin exposed.
I pull at the silk binding my wrists again. Not to escape, but because I have an overwhelming urge to touch him.
Roberto sees it, the look on his face telling me he knows exactly what I want, but he's not goingto give it to me.
He unbuckles his belt and pulls it free from the loops of his trousers with a soft whisper of leather.
I hold my breath, my eyes locked on the movement of his hands.
He folds the belt in half, the leather creaking softly in the quiet room.
My heart hammers against my ribs, a frantic, wild beat.
He trails the folded leather over my stomach, and I flinch at the cool, smooth feel of it.
"Shhh," he murmurs, a soothing sound that does nothing to calm my racing heart. "I won't hurt you. Not unless you want me to."
The thought is so shocking, so arousing, that a strangled noise escapes my throat.
I've never considered… that.
But with him, I think I might.
He continues to trace patterns on my skin with the belt, a slow, hypnotic rhythm that has me squirming on the bed.
Then, without warning, he brings the belt down on my thigh with a sharp smack.
It's not hard, not enough to really hurt, but the sudden, stinging contact sends a jolt of electricity straight to my clit.
I cry out, my hips bucking offthe bed.
He tosses it aside with a dark smile. "Another day, perhaps."
