Bought by Her Italian Boss(14)

"I don't have to buy women, cara. They come to me for this." His hips  came up just enough to press where too many nerve endings were centered.  She bucked in an allover response, gasping.

"You're so full of yourself," she told him, shivering, not fighting the  hands that pressed her hips so she felt that delicious grind again.

The corners of his mouth deepened in satisfied amusement. "Let's see  which one of us wants to be full of me, hmm?" His hand slid up her side,  across her shoulder to cup the side of her neck.

A trail of tingles followed his caress, sensitizing her, making her go  still when self-preservation instincts told her to get the hell off his  lap.

As he exerted a tiny pressure, urging her forward, asking for her mouth against his, she gave in.

It's only a kiss. They'd done it before.

But this wasn't a kiss. It was a match to a flame.

As her mouth reached his, he captured her in a hungry kiss, like last  night, only hotter. With a confident hand on her butt, he rocked her  against his erection, making her shudder and take over the move herself,  seeking the rhythm that would build the desire in the heated, dampening  flesh between her legs.

Distantly she told herself to be cautious, remember this was about the  bank. He was only doing this to prove a point, but her arms went around  his neck in a kind of instinctive twine. She pressed to crush her  breasts against his chest. Their tongues tangled and they both opened  their mouths to deepen the kiss into something flagrant and wildly  passionate.

Maybe there was something else she ought to have been thinking about,  fretting over, but few thoughts of any clarity stuck after that. She  became a being of pure sensation. All her awareness centered on the  points where they touched, how he stroked her back and hips, how her  body prickled and responded like firecrackers were exploding at  different points.

His hand slid to cup her breast, weighing and gently massaging. She  rubbed her nipple into his palm, never so free when it came to sex.  Maybe if he'd seemed surprised by her lack of inhibition, she would have  pulled back, but he groaned with appreciation, encouraging her, giving  her all the pressure she needed as he shaped and squeezed her breast.  She loved the way the light fabric of her top and silky cami made it  easy for him to find and tantalize her nipple, pinching the peak and  causing a stab of arousal straight between her legs.

She gasped and moaned approval. More heat rushed to pool in her loins,  making her ache there and seek that hard ridge. She rubbed, trying to  soothe the needy throb between her legs, unable to remember the last  time she'd had any sex, let alone thrown herself into it like this. No  man had ever aroused her this quickly and thoroughly with little more  than a kiss and a few brazen caresses.

She arched as his other hand found its way beneath her top and pulled  her cami askew, so he could pull back and look at her through the  translucent film of her overtop. They both watched his thumb circle her  nipple, flicking back and forth, stimulating the tight bead so she  shuddered and panted, scalp tight, excited beyond what she could imagine  could happen from such a simple bit of teasing.                       
       
           



       

"Come here," he said, urging her to lift on her knees and push her nipple toward his mouth.

She did, bracing her hands on his shoulders, vaguely aware they were in a  moving car. Maybe the blur around them was empty of humans, but the  darkened glass at her back wasn't. She ought to be showing more decorum,  but his tongue moved the silk of her top against her nipple in delicate  friction. The dampness of his mouth enclosed her in heat, sucking and  inciting. She was lost, groaning with delight as he tortured her,  licking and moving that damp fabric, squeezing the swell of her breast  just enough to push more blood into the tip.

She was going to climax from this alone, she thought, working her nails  with agitation against his shirt, thinking she should stop this, but she  was compelled to keep going because it felt so damned good.

Her waistband released and his other hand slid in, confident and  possessive, cupping soaked lace, saying something in Italian she didn't  have the wherewithal to interpret, but he sounded pleased. Like he was  complimenting her. She absolutely flowered when he sounded so  appreciative and admiring.

He held his palm steady for her to grind herself into the heel of his  hand. She moaned with pleasure as her arousal became acute. She tore at  his collar and tried to stroke his skin, wanted to bend and kiss him,  but as she pulled back, he stared at her chest.

"Give me the other one," he growled, eyeing her left breast, still tucked away.

With trembling hands, she lifted her top out of the way, pushed the cami  down so her breasts were thrusting out the top of it, brazen in the  extreme-

He opened his mouth wide on her bare nipple and she nearly screamed at  the sensation of his teeth closing softly, dragging all the way to the  tip before he sucked her into the deep, wet cavern of heat that was his  greedy mouth.

A rush of need flooded into her sex. Into his palm.

He made an animalistic noise and his fingers pushed past silk,  fingertips seeking, two penetrating, burying deep, thumb tracing and  finding. Circling.

"Yes," she gasped, giving herself up to the stunning height of pleasure,  welcoming the thrust of his fingers, clasping him hard to her breast as  he nipped in a way that was just short of pain. The sensations he was  offering were so sharp and intense it was almost too much to bear. She  clenched, trying to hold back, realizing how close she was to losing it.  This wasn't what she'd meant to happen.

His arm clamped around her waist and he kept lashing her with those twin  sensations until she couldn't hold back. Orgasm crashed over her. Her  body nearly buckled under the power of it. Her cries of abandon filled  the backseat and she pressed her hands to the ceiling, all of herself  offered to him as he pleasured her, nearly bursting into jagged tears at  the intensity of her release. Dying. She was dying and would never  breathe again.

The paroxysm held her for a long time, until she slowly became aware that his caress had become soothing.

His damp hand moved, sliding onto her hip then cupping her backside,  urging her to nestle her tender, throbbing flesh against the aggressive  ridge of his erection straining the front of his pants. He lifted his  head and licked at her panting mouth, teasing her into kissing him back.

She was still shaking with reaction and kept her eyes closed as she  kissed him with swollen, trembling lips, aware of his hardness  everywhere: shoulders, arms, thighs. Even his lips were firm where hers  were soft with spent pleasure. His heart was pounding while she was  still trying to catch her breath, both of them damp with perspiration.

Finally she dragged her eyes open to see he had a very smug, satisfied  light in his half-closed eyes. That arrogance was unnerving, making her  realize he had completely taken her apart while losing none of his own  control. Only his collar was slightly askew, his hair barely out of  place.

He told her in a low growl what he wanted to do to her.

What was wrong with her that she responded with an internal clench of anticipation to his dirty talk?

She pushed off his lap and shakily tidied her clothes, avoiding his  gaze, trying not to think of where his hand had been. How she'd sounded  as she called out with release. Had the driver heard her? How did things  just keep getting more mortifying?

She managed to rally, responding to what he'd said with a scathing, "The  way you're looking so self-satisfied, I'd think we already did that."

He angled to look at her, reaching to smooth a wisp of her hair from its  tangle on her eyelashes. Her pulse leaped with excitement, but his  finger didn't even brush her skin.

"It was bothering me that other men had seen you naked. But no man has ever seen you like that, have they? I'm very satisfied."                       
       
           



       

What an egotistical-

"You're a jerk," she told him, thinking there were saltier words and she was tempted to find them.

"Are you losing the feel-good already? Because I'm right here, ready and  willing to take you to your happy place all over again."

"Oh, shut up," she snapped, turning her face to the window. Pride. Who knew it was such an unaffordable luxury?





CHAPTER SIX

GWYN DIDN'T KNOW how close she'd just come to being taken in the  backseat under the straying eye of his driver. Oh, Carlo would have  known they were petting, would have turned up the music so he wouldn't  hear anything indelicate, but neither he nor Gwyn knew that Vito had  nearly lost control, so caught up in Gwyn's pleasure he'd almost found  his own, fully clothed and completely at her service. He'd barely  stopped himself from rolling her beneath him on the seat, stripping them  bare and quite possibly planting a baby in her without a single thought  for the consequences.