Bound by the Italian's Contract(41)
Her professional mind was brilliant, sharp, open. Sex with her would be incredible, addictive.
They could do this, have an affair and walk away without regret or reservations.
He flicked off the shower that had grown cool and sucked in great drafts of air, his body quivering with pleasure from that one taste that left him hungry for more. Since his divorce, he’d had women with little conscious thought, feeling nothing but carnal satisfaction when a fling was over because that’s all he’d wanted from them. He would feel the same when his “contract” with Caprice ended.
Theirs was the perfect situation. She was the saving grace for his brother, and for his own choking guilt. He was the means to an end for her. Rich means to finance her new venture. Something she wanted so badly that she’d agreed to share her intuitive knowledge, and now her bed with him. She’d been honest about it. And he would take great satisfaction in making it as pleasurable for them both in work and in play.
His palms skimmed down her spine, which was tight with muscle and tension. His ego swelled as she moaned and pressed closer. Needy. Trusting. Giving.
His lips captured hers and he drank the passion still wet on her lips, a drugging sensual brew that tossed hot embers on the emotions banked in his heart and soul. Whatever her reasons for pleasuring him first were, they were hers. He was grateful for the amazing rush, and he would repay the favor. In fact he looked forward it.
“I am the reflection of you at this moment,” he said, sliding his arm around her slender shoulders, tucking her close and relishing the feel of her in his arms.
Her hushed laugh was bells on the wind, soft and fleeting. “I don’t believe it.”
He smoothed her wet hair back and cupped her face in his palms, staring into eyes that never stayed locked with his for long, as if hiding something and afraid he’d discover her secrets. Like his wife?
“Why do you doubt me?” he asked, pushing thoughts of Isabella away, not wanting her dark memory to shadow this pleasure he felt now.
“You’re a man, operating on a different level than women. You take what you want when you want it without reservations or regrets.”
“As you just did with me.”
Her cheeks turned pink, an odd reaction for a woman who’d just taken the initiative to indulge in fellatio. But then Caprice was unlike any woman he’d ever known.
Her chin came up and her palm skimmed down his bare belly, stopping inches from where he throbbed for her touch. “I took what I wanted without regrets.”
“And now it is my turn, bella,” he said.
“What if I’ve had enough?” she asked.
He grabbed a soft bath sheet and wrapped it around her beautifully naked body, drawing her flush against him. Then he slipped his leg between hers and caught the quiver of need that shot through her. “You haven’t.”
A provocative look and a promising smile was all it took to enflame his desire to a fever pitch again. It had been a long time since he’d taken this much time and pleasure with a woman, despite what the tabloids boasted. His choice, just as this was his decision to make now. He wanted more from her. He’d have it.
She’d invaded his sanctuary. He’d never allowed another woman to do that and had sworn on the drive up that he wouldn’t tolerate it happening again.