He had to get away.
Surging to his feet, he pushed his chair back, and her tempting arms and mouth left him. His libido screamed at him, what are you doing?
His last shred of determination yelled at him to leave, get away while he could. "I have to-"
"Brilliant," she murmured, ignoring his words. With a swift move worthy of a star ballerina, she twirled before him and yanked his jacket off his shoulders and down his arms. "I was beginning to get frustrated with all the clothes you have on."
Dante glared at her, not believing in the innocent look she gave him. Not for a moment. "I don't know what you are doing, but stop it right now."
His wife glanced at him, her eyes dancing with pure gold intent. "No."
Before he could wrap his head around her frank rebuttal, he found his tie whipped over his head. With a firm push, she had him sitting in his chair. Standing in front of him, she smiled, a sultry blast that demolished any words he had floating through his thoughts. With elegant simplicity, she knelt between his legs and leaned, full-length, across his splayed body.
There was nothing he could say to her at this point to make her think he wasn't interested. Her knowing smile was accompanied by a slither of her body against the aching hardness of his erection.
"I think you know what I'm doing," she said in a husky voice.
Closing his eyes, he let himself feel her on him. Her touch was painfully pleasurable. He knew this was backsliding. He knew he would pay for this for nights to come as he held himself rigid in their marriage bed. He would have to start all over, the process of pulling away, letting go.
But he was too far gone. Too far in her spell.
Her hands floated across his chest, buttons opening, silk pushed away. He kept his eyes closed, letting her do whatever she wanted. The vague thought rippled through him that she'd never been so forward, never taken charge of their lovemaking so completely. Which was why he found himself unable to put two coherent thoughts or actions together. She'd overtaken and overwhelmed him with barely a lift of her shoulders, barely a touch of her magic hands.
She was Eve. She was Venus. She was Seduction.
"You are so beautiful," she purred.
Her fingers played with his rigid nipples, skimmed through his chest hair. She followed this madness with even further torture. Her warm, wet mouth slithered along his torso, lighting a band of nipping kisses down, down.
A long groan ripped from his throat. All of him was only feeling now, no thoughts of office, business, his decision to draw away. No thought. Only feeling. The feel of his body as it tightened and flexed. The feel of her warm breasts pressed on the most sensitive part of his body. The wet trail of her tongue as it played along the top of his pants, tickling the line of hair disappearing beneath his remaining clothes.
"Lara," he begged. "Per favore."
At the sound of his pant's zipper, he managed to pry his eyes open and glance down. The black silk of his underwear tented high as she pulled open his pants. His wife's smile was languid as she glanced at him. With a final touch, she blew his remaining control to pieces. Her warm hand took him, rubbing the silk along the length of his cock.
"Dio." His body bowed upward, pushing himself into her grasp with instinctive need.
"Do you like this?" Her voice was soft and sexy.
Gazing at her, knowing he must appear demented in his need, he croaked, "You know I do."
A sultry smile was his answer. "I'm going to do more for you."
More? He trembled, his body shaking with need. What more could she possibly do for him? If she did anymore he'd go crazy, lose himself in her hand.
With one look of pure purpose, she answered his unspoken questions. She dropped her lips to his silk-covered length and nuzzled.
His hands fisted on the arms of his chair as he forced himself to stop the impulsive urge to push her wide, lush mouth into his lap. She had never indicated she wanted to do this to him, and he'd never pushed. He'd been more than content with having her beneath him, hearing her moans as he brought her to climax, feeling her arms and legs come around him, welcoming him into her heat.
But now, now …
His siren wife tongued him through the silk and he couldn't stop the helpless gasp he gave her as encouragement. His head dropped back, eyes shut tight, his entire focus on that sweet mouth moving over him.
"Lift your hips."
A slave to her command, he moved, feeling the slip of silk across his thighs, feeling the cool air hit the hotness of his skin.
Then the exploding pleasure of her wet lips enveloping him took the last of his conscious thought.
Chapter 20
He tasted salty. And hot. And desperate.
Every one of the licks gave her satisfaction because of his instantaneous response.
She watched his face as he groaned again. His high cheekbones were stained with red passion. For a moment his eyes opened, staring at what she did to him. They were glazed with frantic desire, blind to anything except what she was doing.
The triumph was sweet. The love beneath her actions beat like a throbbing note of hope. Lara had never wanted to do this with any man. But Dante, oh with Dante …
"Son oil tuo schiavo," he moaned.
She didn't want him to be her slave, she wanted him to be her love. Would he understand the meaning beneath her actions? Would he realize she would only do this with a man she loved with everything she had inside herself?
The tip of her tongue circled the head of his cock and she felt the flexing of his thighs as he pushed himself forward. She was surrounded by him, his heat and strength and maleness. Yet she was the one who held all this male power in her grip.
"Madre di Dio," he hissed as she gave him another lick.
Her hand slid down the length of his erection and lightly palmed his balls. A torrent of Italian curses was his response, and then his broad hands gripped her head.
"Stop," he pleaded. "I need to be inside you."
Looking into the deep, velvet darkness of his heated stare, she tried to find what she was looking for. Did he know what she was saying to him? Did he understand?
"Per favore, bella."
She rose in front of him, standing between his legs. With a single push, she lost her skirt and thong, now clad only in the golden piece of fluff wrapped around her breasts. His desperate gaze followed her every movement, his body open and naked for her perusal.
"Take it off, Lara."
Feeling as though she'd found her secret essence, she slipped the last item of clothing she wore over her head.
Naked. Standing before him naked in every way. Body and soul and heart all before him. Whether he knew it or not.
"Vene," he husked, grabbing her hand and tugging her towards him.
Slipping her legs by his, she knelt over him, brushing her entire body against the length of his torso. His hands gripped her butt, kneading her muscles, pulling her closer to the center of his heat.
For the first time in days, she kissed him on the lips. Smoothing her palms along his cheeks and into his hair, she dove right in, taking his mouth, just as she'd taken his body.
He answered her passion with a driving need. His tongue clashed with hers, igniting her excitement exactly as she'd done to him.
"Put me inside you," he whispered on her lips.
Coming to her knees, she held him in her hand and eased him into the place he wanted to be. His gaze was entirely black, a raging, burning cauldron of need and desire. She kept her focus on his face as she slid down, taking him into her body and heart and soul.
Did he know? Did he understand?
His hands tightened on her, pushing her into his heat and power. His breathing rasped harshly on her neck as he pulled her to lie on top of his sweat-slicked skin. "I will not last long, tesoro mio."
She didn't care. She wanted this to be about him, her gift to him. Lifting herself, she tightened her muscles around him, pushing him towards the edge.
With a hoarse cry, he arched into her, and then out, tight hips pumping. His fingers pressed into her skin painfully, yet she was blind to anything but her husband and his satisfaction. Kissing his lips, his chin, his neck, she clamped down hard on his manhood and pushed him over.
His eyes compressed shut, long dark lashes stark against the passion red skin of his cheeks. His mouth dropped open, an animalistic sound of pure pleasure erupting forth. His hips bowed into hers, lifting her up with the power of his taking. He jerked, jerked again, in the innermost part of her, and she knew the flood of him pulsing inside her, a heated streak of need.