The Italian's Christmas Child(22)

‘I’ve never wanted a woman the way I want you,’ Vito told her thickly.

He flung a handful of condoms down by the bed and stripped naked without inhibition while she watched.

Pink washed Holly’s face because he was fully aroused and ready.

‘I couldn’t get enough of you that night and that unnerved me,’ he framed abruptly. ‘You were a very unexpected discovery.’

He reached for her again, deftly skimming off her bra and panties, twisting his hips away when she tried to touch him. ‘No... If you touch me, you’ll wreck me. I’m on a hair trigger after months of abstinence,’ he growled, lean brown hands roving over the full curves of her breasts, lingering over her pink pointed nipples to tug and tease until little sounds she couldn’t silence broke from between her lips.

Vito flung back the sheet and settled her beneath him to pay serious attention to her swollen mouth and the glorious swell of her breasts.

‘Months of abstinence?’ Holly encouraged helplessly, her breath tripping in her throat as he sucked on a protruding bud while long, skilled fingers stroked her thigh.

‘I’m not an easy lay,’ he told her. ‘I’m very, very fussy.’

‘Nothing wrong with that,’ Holly framed in ragged reassurance, all the feeling in her body seemingly centred between her thighs where she was scarily desperate for him to touch her.

And then he did and she gasped and her eyes closed and the fire at the heart of her grew hotter still, hips shifting up and from side to side, the drumbeat of need awakened and throbbing and thrumming through every skin cell. Vito shifted down the bed and parted her thighs. He knew exactly what he was doing. She had discovered that the night Angelo was conceived.

He teased her with the tip of his tongue, slow and then quicker until she could no longer stay silent and whimpers and gasps were wrenched from her. A long sure finger stroked through her wet folds and she quivered, every nerve ending jumping to readiness as the excitement crept higher.

At the height of her climax she cried out his name, lost in the convulsive spasms of erotic pleasure. She was so lost in that pleasure that she struggled to remember what day it was and even where she was. Her lashes flickered when she heard him tear open a condom. As he returned to her she wrapped both arms round him possessively, her body temporarily sated.

He pushed her back and drove into her with a guttural groan of satisfaction. ‘Like wet satin,’ he bit out appreciatively.

Hunger sizzled through her as his bold shaft stretched her and sank deep. Suddenly she was sensually awake again, her body primed as he angled his lean hips to ensure that she received the maximum enjoyment. His hunger for her was unhidden, his strokes were hard and fast, tormentingly strong. The ache low in her body pinged and climbed in intensity. She wanted, oh, how she wanted, craved, needed and longed for that maddening pulse of yearning to be answered, overwhelmed. And then her spine was arching and her body jerking and the waves of hot, drenching pleasure were like a shooting star flaming through her and setting her on fire with the wondrous release from her own body.

‘Sexiest, most amazing woman ever...and mine,’ Vito husked in her ear, his weight heavy on her as he rolled over and pulled her down on top of him. ‘That’s the most important fact. You’re mine, gioia mia.’

‘Are you mine too?’ Holly whispered dizzily.

‘Sì...’

‘Is sex always this good?’

‘Not even half the time. We have our own unique variety of fireworks.’

Holly rested her cheek on a damp bronzed shoulder, her body replete. He smelled so good she drank him in like a drug. She liked being his. She liked that possessive note she heard edging his dark drawl because it made her feel less like Angelo’s mother and more like Vito’s wife, valued, needed and wanted on her own account. Long fingers traced the path of her spine as he shifted position.

‘I have an impossibly fast recovery time with you,’ Vito husked, sliding her back onto the sheet on her front, lingering on the soft full curves of her behind.

He reached for another condom. Holly didn’t even lift her head. She was still in that place somewhere between total satiation and awareness, shifting obediently as he eased a pillow below her hips, raising her, rearranging her to his satisfaction. And then she felt him rigid and full at her entrance where she was now tender and swollen. He drove in hard and she came suddenly fully awake, eyes wide, throat catching on a breath, heart hotwired back into pounding. He buried himself deep and it felt so good she moaned.

‘I like the little sounds you make.’ He ground into her with power and energy and a spontaneous combustion of heat surged at the apex of her body.

Excitement crowned with her every cry and snatched breath. She couldn’t breathe against the onslaught of raw, surging excitement. With every savage thrust he owned her in a way she had never thought to be owned and she gave herself up to the rise of the hot, pulsing pleasure. The excitement crested with white-hot energy and the sweet waves of deep, quivering pleasure consumed her. Winded, she slumped back down into the pillows.

‘Shower time,’ Vito told her, lifting her out of bed. ‘You’re not allowed to go to sleep yet.’

‘You and your son have a lot in common.’

‘We’re both very attached to you?’ Vito urged her into the shower.

‘You don’t sleep at night,’ she contradicted. ‘Although I have to admit that you’re more fun than he is in the middle of the night. Angelo gets grouchy when he’s teething.’

‘I won’t get grouchy with you in my bed,’ Vito assured her, leaning back against the tiled wall, lean, bronzed and muscular, a study in male perfection.

Holly was like an energy drink, releasing his tension, refreshing him, leaving him feeling amazingly relaxed. Vito had never done relaxed and wasn’t quite sure how to handle it. It was a great deal easier simply to concentrate on working off that surplus energy in bed.

Even with the honeyed ache of sex and satiation Holly wanted to put her hands all over him and explore him with the freedom she had restrained on their first night together. She was so comfortable with him, so indescribably comfortable it almost spooked her. ‘I can sleep standing up,’ she warned him, resting her damp head down on a strong brown shoulder.

‘I have to work tomorrow, bellezza mia. Make the most of now,’ Vito murmured huskily, gathering her close.

Her eyes opened very wide on the tiled wall. He had to work the day after their wedding? Was there some crisis on?

‘No. I just like to work,’ Vito confided lazily, as if there were nothing the slightest bit strange about his desire to act as though the day after their wedding were just like any other day.

‘Are you taking any time off?’ It was a loaded question but she tried to make it sound casual and unconcerned and then held her breath.

‘I’ll be home every night...you can bet on that,’ Vito growled, nipping at the sensitive flesh below her ear until she shivered helplessly against him and his big hands rose to cup and massage her breasts. ‘I’ll be keeping you very much occupied.’

Sex, she thought dully. Nothing wrong with his enthusiasm in that department but was that really all he was interested in, all he had ever been interested in? Or simply all she had to offer? Her teeth gritted. What did she have to offer in the intellect category? No, she was never going to be his equal there. Were they going to be one of those couples who never interacted except when their child was around? Would she chatter on relentlessly about Angelo and only ever really get Vito’s attention in bed? It sounded a sad and desperate role to her but what was she going to do about it? She couldn’t make him want more or force him to see her in a different light, could she?

A sham marriage? That overheard phone call returned to haunt her. How hard could it be for Vito to fake being genuinely married when all he intended to do was have sex with her? A chill trickled through her tummy and made her tense. Suddenly fears that she had earlier dismissed were becoming a source of genuine concern. Why had she so easily believed that Apollo was talking nonsense about Vito’s intentions? Apollo Metraxis had known Vito since childhood. Apollo probably knew Vito a great deal better than she did and if he suspected that Vito had only married her to gain custody of his son, shouldn’t she be sincerely scared?

When she wakened it was still dark, with only the faintest glimmer of light showing behind the curtains. She was deliciously comfortable. Vito had both arms wrapped round her and she was snuggled up to him, secure in the warmth and the wonderfully familiar scent of his skin. He was stroking her hip bone and she stretched in a helpless little movement.

‘I want you, tesoro mia.’

Her eyes flew wide as he shifted against her back, letting her feel the hard swell of him. ‘Again?’

His sensual mouth pressed into the sensitive skin of her throat. ‘Don’t move. I’ll do all the work.’

And he did, repositioning her, gently rousing her from her drowsiness and then sinking into her with exquisite precision. She heard herself gasp and then moan and the sweet swell of pleasure surged up and overpowered all her anxious thoughts. Excitement took hold and she trembled with need as his smooth thrusts rocked her sensitised body. She couldn’t fight her responses or the uncontrollable wave of ecstatic sensation that swept her to an explosive climax.