Mistress By Blackmail(53)

A rain of kisses moved from her lips to her neck, down to her pointed, tight nipples. He laved and lashed them with his tongue, bent on creating the same frenzy of lust in her that she’d given him.

“Aaaah.” She writhed in his arms.

“Sognavo di te,” he murmured, brushing his lips on her sweet skin.

He was mindless, driven, primitive.

His mouth drank her in, moved across her taut belly, darting a tongue into her navel. Sliding down, farther, down.

“I d-don’t know—” Her words ended in a shriek of surprise? Delight?

He couldn’t tell as he pushed her legs apart and sucked the essence of her into his mouth. He couldn’t decide which emotion she was feeling because his mind had gone completely blank as the primal animal in him took over.

“God,” she moaned.

She tasted as sweet and spicy as he’d dreamed. His tongue tormented her folds, his lips nibbled at her. He lifted his gaze and saw his woman arch away from the bed, her breasts wet from his attention, her skin a pale, gleaming gloss on the sheets.

A broken cry came from her as her entire body tensed and bowed into his touch. He felt her bliss roll through her, shuddering through her chest, her belly, her thighs. For a long moment, he continued to pleasure her as she shuddered once more and then collapsed.

He finally moved. Leaning over her, pressing her warm body to the bed, he reached for protection. With shaking hands, he ripped open the silver packet and slid the condom on him. Turned to her lax body and took her in his arms. “Talk to me. Are you all right?”

Her eyes slowly opened. They were dazed with the passion and pleasure he’d given her. Her hand lifted and tenderly grazed his cheek. “That was amazing.” Awe rang in her voice.

Fierce pride pumped inside him. He’d won her. He’d conquered her. It was time to take her and make her his.

“Ho bisogno di te,” he groaned as he positioned himself.

The blue of her gaze turned to midnight as he thrust into her warm, wet channel. Her mouth opened in a gasp as she arched her head back. For a moment she tightened, stiffened, seemed to pull away.

“Carita.” The one word whispered from his lips, whispered in his heart. Had he hurt her?

“Keep going.” Her soft voice soothed his concern.

Words escaped him at that point. He had only his body to communicate. Involuntarily, he thrust once more, wanting and needing her to let him in.

Her hands fluttered on his shoulders, like gentle butterflies. Her head tilted back and her eyes met his. Secrets swirled in the mist of her gaze. Along with something else, something clutching at his heart.

But it was swept away when she softened, when her core let him all the way in.

He gasped as he surged to his hilt.

Her hands smoothed across his chest, sending streaks of lightning need across his torso. With feral intensity he lifted, thrusting into her once more. She felt as tight as a virgin. As plush as velvet, as wet and warm as he’d ever dreamed.

One of his hands slid down on her legs. “Put them around me.”

Her eyes shone with surprise, yet she instantly wrapped her lithe legs around his waist, causing him to sink even deeper into her body.

“Dio.” What was going on with her? Why was she feigning this passivity, pretending not to know what to do? But his body didn’t care. It plunged and thrust and lusted. The feeling was exquisite, infinite. Fire burned in his groin, shooting out to the tips of his toes and fingers. He shook and shuddered with need.

His piccola carita sighed and grew still.

She was not participating. She was not moving, lusting, wanting, as he was. She wasn’t with him in this dance of desire.

He stopped and stared at her. “Move with me. Be with me.”

Worry lanced across her face. “I’m not doing it right, am I?”

“There’s no right way.” Astonished amazement flashed through him at her question. Doing it right? Was she playing her games? Sudden anger pulsed behind his words. “Lose yourself in me.”

His hands grasped her hips, pulled her and pushed her into his pace. Determination surged in him along with his overriding lust. She would fall first into this desire. He would lead her into the frenzy before he allowed himself to fall into it with her.

Her hips caught his rhythm. Her face flushed and her chest rose with a deep breath.

“Madonna in cielo,” he groaned as her tight passage clamped around him.

They finally moved as one, their bodies slick with sweat. He felt every inch of her skin, saw every emotion and feeling as it crossed her face. He reveled in her every sigh, her every gasp. The pace quickened. The dance became frantic.

His body teetered on the edge. Sucking in his breath, and his lust, he drove into her once more. “Come for me,” he moaned. “Now.”