Their mouths fused, he slowly stroked her body, blocking out the sensation of her fingers shyly touching his neck and scraping through his hair. He paid no special attention to her breasts and avoided her pubis, wanting to make her relaxed and comfortable in their mutual nudity. Only when he sensed her becoming restless did he brush his mouth across her cheek and down the graceful arch of her neck. God, her skin was so soft, in touch and taste…
His hand drifting over her abdomen, he kissed the violently beating pulse at the base of her neck and skimmed his lips overher collarbone before shifting himself lower and covering her breast with his mouth.
Feeling her go rigid again, he smoothed his hand soothingly up and down her softly rounded hip before gently clamping his lips over the succulent flesh and stroking the cherry red peak with his tongue. His senses fully attuned to all her responses, he became aware of the shift in her breathing and trailed his fingers back to her abdomen, gently dancing them lower until he reached the V between her legs.
The beats of his heart pushing the air from his body, he switched his mouth to her other hardened peak and tried not to think about the erotic softness of the downy hair between her legs.
Still lavishing restrained attention on her breasts, he dipped his fingers even lower.
The shallow pants of Francesca’s breath soaked into his ears, the only movement of her body coming from her right leg, lightly rocking as if independent from the rest of her.
Suckling a nipple, he cupped the virgin flesh of her sex and only just clamped down on the groan that formed in the base of his throat to feel her swollen heat.
Noneof this was for him, he reminded himself. This was all for her. All that was required of him was control.
It was a control that came within a ragged breath of snapping when he slowly slid a finger inside her and felt the slick, wet heat of her arousal.
The blood in Francesca’s head was a pulsing roar. Through the noise came the thought, her only thought, that she’d never dreamed it would feel like this. That she could feel like this. Never dreamed her body could melt under the weight of pleasure.
Her sensation-ravaged skin felt so heavy and yet so light, and between her legs, an ache of throbbing heat being fed by the sensuous movements of Gino’s fingers as they slowly explored her most private parts, gently stroking, tantalising…
A sound caught in her throat.
Her eyes flew open, but she saw nothing. She couldn’t breathe. Oh God…
Sensation was saturating her, every stroke of his thumb on her hidden nub bringing it more fully to life, every gentle penetration of his finger introducing her to fresh thrills that had her writhing at his sensuous manipulations, her body aching –craving– for more.
She could feel herself slipping away, drowning under the weight of pleasure, and when his lips snaked back up her neck and covered her mouth, she found herself caught in a kiss so deep and passionate that every nerve ending in her body separated into tiny flames.
The hand doing such incredible things to her skimmed away to gently spread her thigh, and then he shifted his weight so he was between her legs, and stretched out an arm to his bedside table.
The weight and potency of his arousal pressed against her inner thigh, and she sucked in a breath. All the moisture suddenly vanishing from her mouth, her earlier terror neatly recaptured her in its tentacles.
Oh God, it was going to happen.
Resting a hand by her head, he lifted himself onto it and deftly sheathed himself with his other hand, and then he took her hand and brought it to his mouth.
Eyes darker than she’d ever seen them captured hers, a question ringing from them.
In answer, she squeezed the hand holding hers and sent a silent plea to him to keep a tight hold of it.
As if he’d read and understood her plea, he threaded his fingers through hers before slowly lowering himself back down onto her.
With his arousal pressing hard into the top of her thigh, he kissed her gently. Tenderly. “I’ve got you, Chicca,” he whispered into her mouth. “Now hold onto me.”
Her aching breasts compressed against his muscular chest, her heart thumping harder than it had ever done before, Francesca slid a trembling hand along his powerful shoulder and cupped the back of his neck.
He lifted his chest a little and moved his arm, skimming his fingers down her side before sliding between their abdomens to take hold of his erection.
The blood in her head no longer a roar but a whistle of white noise, she held even tighter to him and squeezed the fingers entwined in hers.
She caught a glimpse of taut concentration in his eyes before his lashes closed them off and his mouth captured hers. His lips and tongue caressed and electrified until their mouths clung together in a burn she felt to the roots of her hair.
She felt a weight at the opening of her sex. Suddenly breathing hard, she pressed her cheek tight to his and closed her eyes.
The weight grew. Pressed harder. She felt the breach, felt muscles she’d been unaware existed relent and then tighten around him as he slid his thick length slowly, slowly, inside her. Gripping tightly to his short hair and the fingers entwined in hers, she forgot how to breathe again. Every one of her senses was consumed in this moment.
He pushed his way a little further. And then a little further still. At the next press forward, she hitched a breath of shock at the faint stab of pain.
