“To slowly, ever so slowly, remove every item of your clothing.” He dropped the shirt to the ground, and every cell of her body was so sensitized that it sounded with a heavy thud.
His hands lifted to her breasts, and through the sensible cotton of her bra, he cupped them, holding their weight in his palms. Kate sucked in a deep breath as arousal fanned in her stomach.
“Your breasts are stunning.” He unclipped her bra and slowly guided the straps down her arms, spreading fires of lust as he went. But he didn’t drop it to the floor. He ran it through his hands and then half-smiled. “I liked binding your wrists.”
She swallowed. Uncertainty gulfed her. Confusion, too. “I … liked that as well.” Her eyes sought his. “I hadn’t done that before.”
“No.” Again, the corner of his lip lifted in a sign of sardonic contemplation. “You said you hadn’t done anything like this before.”
She nodded. “You know it’s true.”
Now he added the bra to her shirt. She stood before him, naked from the waistup, and so beautifully youthful that his chest heaved. He ignored his misgivings. He wanted her because he desired her. This, now, had nothing to do with Augustine.
His mouth descended on one of her pale pink nipples, and he rolled his tongue around its firmness, sending shockwaves of pleasure humming all the way to the pit of her stomach. Her fingers crept to his shoulders and dug in hard, reminding him of the day before when she’d scored his back.
He wanted her to touch him all over, but what he wanted even more than that was to teach her body that his was its commander.
Benedetto ran his fingers over her other nipple, twisting it between his thumb and forefinger, his speed increasing as her whimpering reached a keening pitch of desperation. “You are mine.”
The words of dark possession surprised them both, but he was better able to conceal the emotion. He ran his hands down her sides to the waistband of her sensible pants. He undid them with a slowness that belied the desperation in his gut. As the pants loosened, he crouched down before her, so that he could gently glide them down her legs.
She was cold, but hot. So hot, as if the fires of hell were leaping through her. She ran her fingers through his dark pelt of hair and tilted her head back.
Euphoria was close.
Benedetto’s fingers chased her underwear, disposing of it finally, so that she was naked in the middle of the room like a very fair angel.
His mouth against her abdomen shot blades of warmth through her. She moaned and moved her hands more quickly through his hair, needing him with an urgency that made her weak at the knees.
“Benedetto,” she whimpered, “Please.” She wasn’t even sure what she needed. Him, yes, but something else. Something more. Insanity was wrapping around her.
“Your body is mine,” he said, more calmly this time. “And I will make sure you never forget me.”
She didn’t want to forget him. She didn’t want to go a single day without experiencing him. Without feeling this. She nodded though, because the statement seemed to demand an answer.
“I do not know if you are convinced,” he murmured, and now he brought his lips crashing against her most intimate, aching core. She bucked in a visceral, physical response, as desire surged through her. “Ben…”
“Kate,” his laugh was without humour. Gently, he spread her legs further apart, and he reached behind so that he could cup her arse as he tasted the sweetness of her soul.
It was too much pleasure. Kate could hear her strangled sounds of need but she was powerless to silence herself. “Please,” she cried out, as lightning bolted inside of her. She was losing herself completely; control was not in her grip. She stopped fighting it, and let the sensation overwhelm her, as it had been bound to from the beginning.
It was an exhausting wave of pleasure. She felt weak and tingling all over. There were no words that could explain it to him, and so she didn’t attempt to find any.
He stood and scooped her up in his arms in one motion, carrying her to her bedroom.
“This damned bed,” he scowled, his eyes dark as they studied her nakedness.
She didn’t smile. Something was shifting inside of her, as it always did with him. Kate had, at one time, believed love to be a static concept. You loved someone. Or you didn’t. But she hadn’t understood that love grew and changed, until she knew Benedetto.
His face was harsh planes and angles, his eyes were focused only on her physical body, and yet she felt an invisible string of connection binding around them.
“Turn over,” he commanded, standing over her as she squirmed onto her stomach.
He placed the tip of his index finger on one of her heels and slowly, teasingly, began to move it the length of her body. When he reached the curve of her backside, he slowed, tracing circles on each delightful orb before moving onwards, to the small of her back, along the ridges of her spine, and finally to her shoulders. Here, he paused, straddling her hips and keeping his hands against her flesh.
She expelled a soft breath and he smiled. She was his.
He didn’t want to examine why that mattered so much.
