The Italian's Deal for I Do(47)

Color infused her neck and chest now, touching every centimeter of her. A muscle worked convulsively in her throat as she brought her other hand down to join the one he’d placed there, her fingers working the leather strap free of his belt. She pulled hard, uncinching it. He sucked in a sharp breath. Then her fingers were undoing the top button of his trousers, pulling his zipper down. The remainder of his breath left his lungs as she slid her hands inside his pants to cup the length of him.

Maledizione. He closed his eyes. “That’s it. Just like that.”

She moved her fingers up and down him, explored the hard length of his shaft molded by the close-fitting boxers he wore. Her touch goaded him onward, pushed him to an aching, desperate hardness. “Di più,” he murmured. More.

She slipped him out of his boxers and took him in her palms. He was big, harder than he’d ever been in his life, and her soft gasp made him swell even larger. “That’s right, cara. You do that to me. Only you.”

She ran her fingers up and down the pulsing length of him, taking her time to learn the contours of him, the silky tip of him. When he couldn’t take it anymore, he allowed his eyes to slit open.

Her gaze locked with his. The lust he read there almost pushed him over the edge. “In your mouth, sweet Liv. Do it. Now.”

The last word came out ragged and hoarse. A plea as much as it was a command. She must have been as lost as he because she gathered him in her hands and did as he said. He tensed, his entire body going stiff. His first slide inside her hot, welcoming mouth almost unmanned him. He tipped his head back and focused on the cloudless, dark sky through the skylight as he pushed himself back from the edge, forced himself to last so he could enjoy the insane pleasure Olivia was lavishing on him with decadent sweeps of her tongue.

When she had taken him as far as he could allow without ending it right there and then, when his sanity was failing him, he buried his fingers in her hair and brought her to her feet. His own essence mixed with her sweetness as he kissed her was the most heady pleasure he’d ever experienced. But he knew it could be better. Much better.

* * *

Olivia returned Rocco’s devouring kiss, her fingers buried in his hair, consumed with a sexual frustration, a need, the likes of which she’d never felt. He had built her up, played her, with such skill. Used her desire for him to inflame her own. And now she had to have him. Desperately.

Rocco lifted his mouth from hers, cupped her scalp in his fingers as his gaze meshed with hers. “You want me to touch you, beautiful Liv? Make you as crazy as you have made me?”

She could do nothing but nod mindlessly. He sat down on the bed and drew her between his legs. Her heart boomed in her chest, slamming against her ribs so hard she feared she might develop a heart condition right there and then. The strongest organ in her body felt as if it was going triple speed, the insistent pulse of it reaching into the base of her throat, making it hard to breathe. Her knees, which had just about had enough tonight, quivered at the carnal expression on Rocco’s face as he took her in.

He reached up and slipped the straps of her dress off her shoulders. The lightest touch of his fingers on her skin made her shudder. A smile tipped his lips. “Sì, Liv. We either survive this or we go up in flames. But we do it together.”

She was afraid it was going to be the latter. She was afraid she wasn’t going to survive him. He tugged her to him, pushed the dress down over her hips and off. Her eyes followed the dress as it fell in a pool of silk at her feet instead of looking at him, because he was too intense for her to handle.

Rocco slid his fingers under her chin and brought her gaze back up to his. “You look at me. No hiding tonight.”

He reached around, released the clasp of her bra and let it drop to the floor with her dress. His gaze moved down over her, lingering on the swell of her breasts, then her last remaining piece of clothing, a tiny navy blue lace thong. “Out,” he growled, urging her out of the pool of her dress and bra and kicking them aside. Then he brought her back between his legs.

His gaze held hers as he slid his palm between her thighs. Her panties were damp, betraying her desire for him. She closed her eyes at the satisfaction that glittered in his eyes. His fingers tightened on her thighs. “Open them,” he commanded. “Do not close your eyes to me, Olivia.”

She did. She was pretty sure she would have done anything he asked right about now, she was that turned on. But it was excruciatingly hard to make herself look at him as his stare burned into hers. As he removed the sliver of damp material and ran his thumb along the wet seam of her most intimate part.