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Bound by the Italian's Contract(52)

By:Janette Kenny


                “If you did,” he gasped as he moved inside her with deliciously torturing thrusts, “I would follow you down and bring you back to me.”

                Tears stung her eyes and she swallowed hard, engulfed in passion, emotion, confusion. He couldn’t mean that.

                “Why?” she asked on a caught breath, staring into his eyes dark with passion, fingernails digging into his powerful upper arms.

                “For this.” He grasped her hips and pushed hard into her, features strained, cords in his neck standing like ropes.

                She arched her back, rubbing her hot body against his scorching one, muscles clenched in her core, encasing his erection. A shout, or was it a scream, tore through the air. She didn’t know. Didn’t care. Only this moment mattered with their bodies joined. His hot seed spilled inside her, his erection rubbing the sensitive nub that he’d brought to life.

                A rainbow of light flickered behind her eyes and her breath caught, her senses soaring into the stratosphere. Time had no meaning as she gloried in the sensations.

                One last delicious spasm rippled through her and she collapsed, savoring the high of passion. Nothing compared. Not even taking to the air on skis with only the wind beneath her.

                His weight came down on her, muscles slowly relaxing, body still burning hot. Both welcome. She needed his warmth. Needed the grounding of slowly returning to the present.

                Tension pulled at her, threatening to erode this bliss.

                His shoulders and head lifted off her, his brow furrowed, his gaze boring into hers. “What is wrong? Am I too heavy for you?”

                “No! I just—” She shook her head and looked away, not wanting to admit the concern this need for him caused her now.

                He cupped her chin, forcing her to look at him. “What? Tell me.”

                “I...working together, if this ends badly...”

                “This was a mutual surrender to passion,” he said, guessing at her concern, his lips curling into a seductive smile. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

                Her words in their most basic form. “You’re right.”

                “Don’t look for the bad to happen.” He took her hand and held it. “Not here, not now.”

                She nodded, but she didn’t trust him, couldn’t trust him, any more than she did her ability to control her desires around him. Being lovers for the time she was in Italy was inevitable. She wouldn’t argue that point. Nor would she deny him or herself that wondrous pleasure, but she wouldn’t play the fool, believing every promise, every sweet lie that tumbled from a lover’s lips.

                With Luciano she would take what he offered. Savor it. Revel in the pleasure. She would enjoy the present and not worry about the future.





                                      CHAPTER SIX

                LUC STOOD ON the deck overlooking the precipice and welcomed the sun beating down on his face, staring out over the vast Alps yet not focusing on anything. His mind was elsewhere, just as it had been the past three days.

                It seemed ironic that he’d balked over bringing Caprice to his rifugio and now dreaded the thought of leaving here. His reasons were purely selfish.

                He’d had the pleasure of having her in his bed surrendering to passion and didn’t want it to end. When was the last time he’d spent this much time alone with a woman and enjoyed it?