Luca had not even touched the main course. He just sat there brooding like a fallen angel. Sabrina watched him under lowered lids. She was afraid to intrude on his thoughts.
Suddenly he pushed his chair back. “Let’s skip dessert, shall we?”
Her breath caught. The dangerous glitter in his eyes sent all her senses tingling. There was no mistaking what the substitute for dessert would be. She stood on trembling legs. He reached her side in a flash and hauled her tight against him.
“Damn you, Sabrina Connelly,” he said savagely, his eyes roaming wildly over her face.
She should be afraid of the wildness in the blue depths of his eyes, but instead her heart pounded with wild anticipation at his loss of control.
His hands cupped the back of her head. His head swooped down and blotted the light. His mouth claimed hers, and Sabrina fell into the decadent darkness of his kiss. He kissed with none of his previous care. His tongue plunged into her roughly. Sabrina welcomed it, tangling it with hers.
She heard the crashing of glass when they bumped into the edge of the table. His hand left her waist, reaching for the table, and Sabrina clamped her hand on it, somehow sensing what he was about to do.
“DO NOT BREAK THE CHINA,” she said between clenched teeth.
He pulled back, a look of raw need, guilt, and amusement on his face. “Chiara would never have forgiven me.” He dragged her to the far end of the 15-seater table where there were no dishes laid out.
He hoisted her on the gleaming, polished surface and stepped between her legs, pushing her onto her back.
“I changed my mind,” he said, tugging on her shorts. “I think I’ll have my dessert after all.”
But he didn’t eat her like dessert sparingly. No. He delved into her like she was the main course. Her hands could find no purchase on the smooth surface of the table. She dug her hands into his hair instead as she convulsed with the rawest sensations.
“Please tell me you’re on the pill,” he ground out desperately, reaching between them to undo the buttons of his shorts in the aftermath of her release. “I had myself tested a month ago. I’m clean.”
Her arms fell to her side in answer. “I’m not on the pill. I’m clean.”
“When was your last test?’
“I’m clean.”
“When?” he insisted.
“Five years ago.”
Luca reared back. “You mean five months ago.”
“Five years ago. There has been no need since then.”
“You don’t need to lie to me” he gritted out.
I never lied to you, she wanted to say, but was an omission considered a lie?
She never had a chance to debate the answer because Luca had pulled her shorts back up and lifted her off the table. He burst out of the dining room, startling a crew member who was passing by, his hand clamped on her arm.
They found themselves back in the skylight room, as she had taken to calling it in her head. He didn’t bother to open the light. She stood by the foot of the bed while he went to the night table, opening drawers until he straightened up, a foil packet in his hand.
“Take your clothes off,” he commanded in the dark, the only light from the moon peeking through the clouds, bathing the bed in a soft glow.
He stood in front of her as they shed one article of clothing after the other, their eyes locked onto each other. He tore the foil packet open, gloving himself up in full view. The rush of moisture between her legs was embarrassing. As if he sensed her eagerness, Luca held out his hand.
Sabrina took it without hesitation and then he pulled her flush against him. She swallowed a whimper as the heat of his hardness imprinted on her belly.
“Damn you, Sabrina Connelly, what you do to me,” he said roughly, depositing butterfly kisses on her forehead, her eyes, her nose, her lips. “It seems I’m just like my father after all.” He let out a small, mocking laugh, then he was pushing her onto the bed and splaying her legs wide.
With one powerful thrust, they were joined.
Sabrina moaned as he moved above her. The moonlight shone against his skin, outlining the muscles of his arms as they bunched and flexed to the rhythm of their sensual dance. Her legs were wrapped around his waist and she pulled him deep, deep inside her until it felt like he had touched her womb. She clenched in reflex. He let out a string of hoarse, disjointed Italian, pulled out, and flipped her on her stomach. He grabbed her hips, pulled them up, and entered her balls deep.
“Oh, shit.” The angle was different. Her breath hitched when he hit a never-before reached area, her hands clawing on the linens.
“Does it hurt?” He spoke into her ear, the sprinkling of hairs on his chest abrading her back in delicious friction.