Peyton wasn’t fishing for compliments; she was genuinely puzzled about why a sexy, experienced man like Val wanted to give aninexperienced wreck the time of day.
‘Because you’re the only woman who wouldn’t have.’
So, she was a challenge? Surprisingly, Peyton wasn’t insulted by his honesty. In fact, it suited her just fine. Neither of them was here for love so why pretend otherwise? She didn’t have time or room in her life for anything beyond tonight, and he lived on the other side of the planet.
It wasn’t like she had to ever see him again.
Feeling more confident in her decision, Peyton brushed past him without saying a word. She hoped, as she stepped into her room, it looked confident and sexy and that he couldn’t hear the boom of her heart or the knocking of her knees.
Stopping in front of her bed, Peyton opened her bag, took her mobile out, checked it for messages then placed it and the bag on the bedside table. The door clicked behind her in the muted light and she didn’t have to turn to know he was heading her way. Within seconds his heat was behind her, his breath at her neck, his big body a solid wall.
Thank God for the bed in front because his presence alone was turning everything liquid. She shivered as fingers stroked up her arms, leaving raised flesh in their wake, and she swallowed as those same fingers toyed with the knot at her nape.
‘Can I tug on this?’ he asked.
Her pulse thrumming in her ears, Peyton nodded, not trusting her voice in case all that came out was some feral kind of moan. But it came out anyway as the knot ceded to his questingfingers and the dress slithered to her waist, her bare nipples already hard and eager for his touch.
‘Peyton.’ Her name was a whisper on his tongue as his thumbs swept across the aching tips. ‘You are so beautiful.’
Her back arched involuntarily and she cried out as he pinched the dusky brown peaks lightly between his thumbs and forefingers.
‘You like that?’ he murmured, his lips at her neck.
‘Yes,’ she panted shamelessly, any vestiges of reserve she had disappearing as Valentino stroked and tweaked. Her hand snaked behind to anchor in the hair at his nape as her legs wobbled precariously.
‘And this?’
One hand slid down while the other still toyed with a nipple. Her abdominal muscles fluttered beneath the feathery touch as his fingers trailed down her belly before burrowing beneath the sheath of fabric still clinging to her hips. She whimpered something nonsensical as they continued further south, breeching the band of her underwear.
Oh God… was he going to…?
Somewhere in her addled brain she wished she was wearing some wisp of lace instead of sensible panties and that she’d paid more attention to her personal grooming this morning, but those thoughts lasted only a moment before Valentino’s sure, deft, clever fingers homed straight in on his target.
Peyton bucked and cried out at the potent stimulus, her headthunkingback to rest against his shoulder.
‘Oh yes,’ he muttered, rough and low in her ear. ‘Youdolike that.’
With his fingers working her clit and her nipple, Peyton was not capable of words right now. Just noises that she was sure she’d be embarrassed about later.
‘Mio Dio.’ His breath was hot on her temple. ‘You should see yourself.’
Peyton was sure she’d be embarrassed about that later too but right now, knowing he was looking down her body, looking at how his fingers were teasing her nipple, at his hand shoved down her panties, she felt utterly wanton.
‘You like it soft?’ he whispered, his fingers lightening and slowing over the swollen bundle of nerves. ‘Or hard?’
The pad of a finger ground into the sensitive spot, spiking her blood pressure and shooting sparks of pleasure to every periphery, causing her to buck and arch, her breast thrusting into his hand. A minute ago Peyton wouldn’t have remembered how she liked it, or if she’d ever had a preference, but she sure as hell knew now.
‘Hard,’ she panted. ‘Like that. Just…’ Another pant. ‘Don’t… stop.’
His chuckle was unexpected. ‘Not a chance.’
Good to his word, Valentino doubled-down, his fingers working in tandem north and south as he panted and groaned his own appreciation in her ear. Peyton was riding the edge in a disgustingly short amount of time, every muscle from her thighs to her belly coiling so tight that when two large fingers slid inside her and crooked and he muttered, ‘Dio, Peyton. You’re so wet,’ she came so hard that if it hadn’t been for the solid weight of him behind her, she’d have fallen to the ground.
‘Yesss,’ he hissed, the hand on her breast sliding to her belly to steady her as she bucked and cried out, her fingers twisting in his hair, her head thrown back in boneless abandon. ‘Let it all out.’
Peyton did. The orgasm shook her to the core, ravaging her insides, wrecking her utterly, squeezing the air from her lungs as it left her body, leaving her gasping for breath as she sagged against him.
Turning her in his arms, he gently grasped her shoulders and sat her on the bed. But that required far too much muscle control and Peyton eased back against the mattress, shutting her eyes as she tried to regain control of her breathing.
