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The Sicilian's Unexpected Duty(59)

By:Michelle Smart


                ‘Cucciola mia,’ Pepe groaned, breaking away to nip at her delicate earlobe. Unbelievably, he was already fired up enough to explode.

                Thank God he was still dressed. If he’d been naked, he would have plunged into her the second that earthy moan had echoed into his senses.

                Drums played loudly in his head, his heart thundering to the same rhythm.

                The bed was only a few feet away but the distance could be as far as the moon.

                Unwilling to break away from her delectable body for more than the fraction of a moment, he shuffled her to the bed then gently pushed her onto it so she was sitting on the edge.

                ‘Don’t move,’ he ordered, drinking her in, her colour-heightened cheeks, her bottom lip plump and begging to be kissed, her green eyes bright and dilated, her breasts heavy and swollen, the pale nipples ruched.

                ‘Sei bella,’ he said thickly. And she was. Beautiful.

                Jeez, his hands were trembling, his fingers and thumbs disconnected from his brain, unable to work the buttons on his shirt.

                Abandoning his quest to undress himself, he sank to his knees before her and gripped her hips, pulling her to him so she looked down at him.

                There she sat, gazing at him with a heavy desire he recognised and which filled him with something that fizzed in his heated blood. Her fiery hair hung down and he reached for a lock of it, greedily inhaling the sweetness of its scent.

                He straightened a little to kiss her again, gratified beyond measure when she responded in kind, kissing him back, her tongue playing with his, mimicking his actions while her small hands gripped his scalp.

                He covered one of her breasts with the palm of his hand, thrilling to feel the soft weightiness of it, and rubbed his thumb over the nipple. Cara arched her back in response and dug her nails into his skull, deepening their kiss.

                These kisses, no matter how delicious and rousing they were, were not nearly enough.

                He wanted to see if she responded with the same wild abandon that had caused him to lose his head four months ago.

                But first he wanted to taste all of her.

                Trailing kisses down her neck, he reached her breasts and hungrily took one puckered nipple into his mouth.

                She moaned and cradled his scalp some more, pushing him against her. Lavishing attention on her other breast, he then bent down lower, raining kisses over the softness of her rounded stomach and down to the black lace covering the heart of her.

                Hooking the side of her knickers with his fingers, he tugged at them, looking back up at her as he pulled them down to her ankles. He could smell her arousal, a scent that hit him like an aphrodisiac cloud.

                ‘Spread your legs.’ Did that thick guttural voice really belong to him?

                Colour heightened her cheeks and, for one heart-stopping moment, he thought she would refuse.

                ‘Please,’ she said through heavy breaths, ‘turn out the light.’

                He kissed her. ‘It will be good. I promise.’

                Understanding her shyness, he did as she requested, turning out the main light so the only illumination came from the landing, then returned to kneel before her.

                He placed a hand on a trembling thigh. ‘Lie back,’ he said thickly.