“Oh my God!” she cried in amazement. “I can see the sky!”
A circular glass panel in the middle of the domed ceiling had turned transparent, transforming itself into a skylight.
She flung an arm to cover her breasts and a hand to the spot between her legs. “People will see us!”
He chuckled at her distress. “Only if they’re flying above us. I blocked off any helicopter landings on the yacht today.” He didn’t want to give his brothers an inadvertent peep show. Raphael would give him hell. His older brother liked to swoop in and out on the yacht unannounced, so Luca made sure there would be no interruption.
“You have a helipad on the yacht?”
For someone who was supposed to have gone out with rich men, she seemed remarkably easy to impress.
“It makes it easier to fly clients in. This is a floating showroom for the Casa Argenti line. Enough talking about business. This is not what we came here for.”
He rose on his haunches, wrenched her arms gently away from her chest, and kept them pinned above her head. Her golden hair lay in disarray, fanning outward on the pillow. Then he looked down on her and his breathing arrested. Dio! She was magnificent. His memory of her body paled against the vividness of reality. The sun bathed her skin and she glowed like one of the goddesses on those paintings of Titian. His hands made their involuntary journey down, her breasts full, a perfect fit in his palms. Her nipples were rosy, succulent berries. She moaned softly when he thumbed them. His shaft leaked at the sound.
He clamped his jaw, suppressing the desperate urge to drive into her depths. He was so hard it was painful, but he needed to take care of her first. He wedged her thighs apart, slid a finger into her wet, warm crevice, and proceeded to wring the sexiest sounds he had ever heard a woman make. A flush bloomed on her chest just as he inserted another finger, circling, teasing, flicking. Mewling sounds were interspersed with her shallow, frantic breathing, her head tossing from side to side.
“And the third step,” he growled, angling his head between her thighs “is to savor.”
Sabrina’s hips bucked when his tongue darted out and found her sensitive center. In tandem with his fingers, her moans grew guttural. Her hands clutched his hair. He knew she was near the pinnacle when her thighs started closing but he held them apart, allowing her to experience the full impact of his caresses. She was not allowed to hide. Luca wanted her full surrender.
Her back bowed off the bed. Luca glanced up, wanting to see her release. Wanted to witness her coming undone. Her eyes were half-lidded and in the peak of her pleasure, her cheeks were tinted blush, her lips full and swollen, her nipples duskier. She looked liked a living work of art.
She crashed back to the mattress, little tremors still rocking her body. Luca tore at his clothes, fumbling for the condom in his wallet like he was a randy teenager. Perspiration rolled off his forehead. His fingers were trembling with his need to be inside her. Sheathed at last, he plunged into her with one quick thrust. They both groaned at the same time. Dio! She was so snug and hot and wet. He wouldn’t last long. She was so tight…and looked so uncomfortable, the way she was gnawing on her lip and gazing at him with trepidation in her big brown eyes.
What the…?
“Are you a virgin?” He had to repeat the question in English, shock and the delicious way she wrapped around him making his voice hoarse. Was her groan one of pain and not pleasure?
“No,” she whispered.
Luca felt a fleeting pang of disappointment that she was not and then derided himself on this sudden and unwelcome bout of double standard. He had always prided himself on treating his partners as equals. He had hated the way his father expected his mother and sister to follow outdated societal conventions when he himself turned out to be the biggest hypocrite of all. He had traded his family for one gold-digging bitch.
“It doesn’t matter.” It came out harsher than he had intended because it shouldn’t really. It shouldn’t make him feel like obliterating every man who had known her, possessed her. It was dangerous thinking.
He pulled back, almost all the way, then plunged back to the hilt. This time her gasp of pain was unmistakable. Had she been lying?
“It’s just–it’s just been a long time for me.”
“How long?” he demanded, startled by the last thing he expected to hear. He regretted the question immediately. He didn’t want to know. Didn’t want to hear when she had last cradled a man between her legs. “Non importa. It’s not going to matter.” Whether he was convincing himself of the fact was a moot point.
He shook off the disquiet he felt at the incongruity of what he knew and what she was saying, claiming her mouth for a deep-seated kiss. The doubts evaporated. The way his body felt on edge, he’d kill anyone or anything that came between them now. There was only one important matter to focus on. He was going to make her his at last.