“I want to taste you.”
“But…you didn’t even kiss me.” She groaned inwardly. Could she sound more like a high-school girl with a crush on him?
He raised a brow. That damned brow was going to be the death of her.
He was on his knees in front of her, a position she was sure no one saw Alessandro Ricci in. His face was blue and green with bruises, his lower lip split. His hair messed up by her fingers. And yet he looked like he owned the world. Like he owned this room. Like he owned her.
“You’re not comfortable with this?” His palms crawled up her calves, caressed her shins, cupped her knees, stroked the lines that connected her thighs and hips.
Sam flushed. He had to know she was dripping wet. He was showing her how this was going to play out between them. Not with soft whispers. No endearments. No sweet promises. This would be purely sexual. If he thought she’d back down, he didn’t know her. “I have a question for you.”
“Wondering if it will feel good?”
Alessandro didn’t know what devil was goading him. It was clear from her face that he was going far too fast for her. That for all her defiant acceptance of his terms, she was young and had had one boyfriend. Which he couldn’t even bear to think of.
He had to keep the boundaries clear in his own head, though. Had to keep this physical. He knew he could never allow himself love again, not after the loss he felt with Violetta.
“I already know it will feel amazing,” she said, such trust in her eyes. “Are you doing it to prove something?”
“Ever since you walked in and said I was not…” He didn’t want to hear his brother’s name in this space between them. Not even on his own lips. He wanted no one in this space between them. “You’re not the only one with filthy dreams,bella.”
Her gaze glittered, as if he’d given her a priceless gift, and her hard swallow sent motion rippling down her chest. Eyes locked with his, she fisted her dress in one hand. The pulse at her neck quivered. Ever so slowly, she lifted her foot, placed it on his shoulder and bent her knee until she was all open for him. A flimsy thong, already damp, barely hid her from him.
Lust and tenderness warred within him, rioting out of control. He was never going to walk into this room and not see her sitting at the desk like this.
A little nervous, eyes darkened, brazenly open for his pleasure.All his.
He pressed her inner thighs obscenely wide until his shoulders were wedged under her knees and he buried his face in her mound. She jerked and groaned and buried her fingers in his hair when he notched his nose into her folds and breathed her scent in.
His erection throbbed with a life of its own, his muscles, already bruised and beaten, begging for release.
One hard tug ripped the thong off. Looking up, he let her see his rampant desire as he slowly traced the shape of her folds. “I knew you would be pretty all over. But how eagerly you drip for me…” Holding her gaze, he licked at the tip of one finger and made a humming sound at the back of his throat. “You taste divine.”
“You still owe me a kiss,” she whispered, her fingers sifting through his hair.
“After,” he said, grinning. Under his fingers, her core fluttered. He rubbed his fingers up and down, and all around, without touching her clit. “When my mouth is full of your arousal. Then you can taste yourself on my lips.”
Her spine arched into his touch, her hips doing the same. Color high in her cheeks, she dug her teeth into her lower lip. Her small breasts rose and fell with her shallow pants, the tight knots of her nipples beckoning for more. “Why didn’t I guess that you would go slow enough that I’d expire from waiting?”
“What do you want, Sam?”
“I want to come. So hard that I black out. So hard that reality beats my dreams of you.”
“That I can manage,” he said and slowly penetrated her with one finger. She swallowed him like a vise, making his cock throb painfully. He cursed and worked in another finger. “You’re so wet and tight for me. I can’t wait to bury myself inside you,bella.”
A hoarse mewl tore out of Sam’s mouth. While she adjusted to the intrusion, he draped her wetness all over, up and down, teasing, stroking, building her up.
Her fingers in his hair tugged jerkily. He smiled against her inner thigh and nipped the sensitive skin. Her hips thrust forward, the muscles in her thighs tense and taut.
Burying his smile in her sex, Alessandro took a lick of her. Lingered with his tongue pressed against her opening. Sucked at the dampness.
Arching into his touch, she breathed out in rough pants.
He laved her with his tongue, but he didn’t touch her clit yet. Not until her legs were locked over his upper back.
His name on her lips rang around, a soft litany, a harsh curse, begging for benediction. Every time she got to the edge, he retreated, soothed her, played with her. His erection pressed painfully against his trousers.
She was honey-sweet on his tongue, tart like grapes and an aphrodisiac like he’d never known. He’d only done this for one other woman in his life. The memory slammed into him. After she’d read it in some magazine and demanded it of him. He’d done it because he wanted something in return from her.
