But nothing had prepared her for Lorenzo, standing boldly in the flesh … She could not take her eyes off him. His shoulders were wide, his chest broad, with a shadow of black body hair that tapered down to a narrow waist, flat stomach, lean hips and long legs. He was also mightily aroused, and she swallowed hard suddenly, slightly afraid.
‘Are you waiting for me to undress you or admiring the view?’ he asked, with the confident grin of a man totally at ease in his naked masculinity. Not waiting for an answer, he knelt on the bed and pressed fervent little kisses on her face, her throat, while his hands, with a deftness she could only wonder at, removed her dress.
Beneath, she was wearing only white lace briefs, and a thousand nerve-endings sprang to life as he hooked his fingers in the lace and slowly pulled them down her legs.
‘You are beautiful—so beautiful, Lucy.’ He dropped a kiss on her stomach and she trembled in helpless response as his hands palmed her breasts, his thumbs gently grazing the burgeoning nipples, bringing them to rigid points of aching pleasure.
Lucy’s response was a low moan as quivering arrows of sensation shot from her breasts to her pelvis.
‘Perfect,’ he murmured, and his mouth closed over a pert nipple, his tongue licking and suckling.
Her back arched involuntarily, and little whimpering sounds of pleasure escaped her as with frightening expertise Lorenzo delivered the same erotic torment to the other breast, before he found her mouth again and kissed her long and deep as his hands caressed her skin, shaping her waist, her hips, her thighs …
She reached for him, her small hands clasping his shoulders, stroking around his neck, holding him closer, her fingers raking through the thick black hair of his head, desperate for more.
Suddenly he reared back. ‘I want you, Lucy. Dio, how I want you.’ He groaned and nudged her legs apart, to settle between her thighs, and she could feel the hard pressure of his erection against her pelvis as he pinned her to the bed, kissing her with a deep, demanding passion that aroused an answering passion in her—a need, a longing that banished any faint doubt from her mind.
The rough hair of his chest rubbed against her swollen breasts, and her body felt electrified by the heat, the power of him. He kissed her throat, her shoulders, his mouth hard, and one hand curved under her hips to lift her slightly.
His mouth found the rigid tips of her breasts again, suckling first one and then the other, while his other hand dipped between her thighs, his long fingers exploring the hot moist centre of her with devastating skill.
She writhed achingly beneath him, her nails digging into the satin-smooth skin of his shoulders. She was white-hot with wanting, her need for him shuddering through her, the emotion so intense it was almost pain.
He lifted her hips higher, her legs involuntarily parted wider—and he was there, where she ached for him. She groaned as she felt him ease into her. There was the slightest twinge of pain as her moist sheath stretched to accommodate him, then exquisite hot, pulsating power as Lorenzo thrust slowly deeper and then withdrew.
Her body screamed with tension and she locked her legs around him, frantic for him to continue. He thrust again, deeper and faster, possessing her completely, and she cried out as her body convulsed in a million explosive sensations so intense her breath actually stopped with the sheer ecstasy of it all. She was aware of one last mighty thrust as her internal muscles still convulsed around him, and gloried in the great shudders that racked Lorenzo’s huge frame. She was filled with a sense of oneness, a completion she had never imagined existed.
Lorenzo rolled off Lucy, his breathing ragged, his heart pounding and his head spinning. She was everything he had expected and much more. She was so responsive … He couldn’t remember losing control so completely ever before in his life. Of course he had been without a woman for a while, he rationalised, and, turning, he looped an arm around her shoulders and tucked her pliant body against his side.
‘Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you?’ he asked. She was so small, so tight, that for a fleeting moment he had wondered if she was a virgin, but had quickly dismissed the thought. Lucy was obviously a woman of the world.
‘No—quite the reverse,’ she murmured softly, in a voice full of emotion at the wonder of him. She laid her hand on his broad chest. ‘I am better than okay—sublime.’ Rising up on one elbow, she leant over him and pressed a kiss on his chin—the highest she could reach. ‘You, Lorenzo, are nothing like the staid banker I thought.’ She looked up at him, her green eyes dazed with love, and gave him a languorous smile. ‘You’re brilliant, the most perfect lover in the … ‘ She was about to say world, but a wide yawn stopped her.