Bound to the Sicilian's Bed

‘You’re not making yourself very clear, Nicole. Oh, what?’

‘I don’t...’ She closed her eyes. ‘I don’t remember.’

‘Sudden memory lapse, tesoro?’ he murmured, his Sicilian accent a velvety caress. ‘I wonder what might be causing it?’

Nicole couldn’t answer because now his thumb was flicking across her thrusting nipple, sending little ripples of pleasure criss-crossing over her skin. He stroked tiny circles over the engorged flesh before turning his attention to the other breast and Nicole could feel her frustration begin to mount. Squirming beneath his touch, she wondered why on earth she’d told him she wanted this done slowly when already her desire was so intense that she could feel a honeyed heat between her thighs. She wanted—no, needed—to get horizontal but he showed no sign of moving and she realised that, in order to stop her knees from buckling, she was going to have to cling onto his shoulders to anchor herself. He gave a soft laugh as her fingers dug into his flesh and he buried his mouth in her neck, his lips becoming entangled with the wild spill of curls as he drifted the tip of his tongue over her skin.

‘R-Rocco,’ she whispered.

‘What?’

‘Take...take off my T-shirt.’

‘I thought you told me to take my time. To stretch my own patience were the words I think you used. And believe me, tesoro—I haven’t even started yet. I’ll show you just how patient I can be.’

It was both a promise and a threat—as well as a boastful demonstration of just how controlled he could be—and Nicole closed her eyes as he ran the flat of his hand over her belly, taking care to avoid the place where she most wanted to be touched. She bit her lip. Had she really been so sure of herself to think she could wait when she so desperately wanted to feel him inside her? She squirmed as deliberately he inched his way along the lacy edge of her panties, praying for him to slip his finger inside so that he could feel how much she wanted him, but he didn’t. She had wanted to control what was happening by setting the pace, but she had done the exact opposite and given him all the power. She wondered what the hell she’d been playing at.

So what was she waiting for?

She was his equal—remember?

Reaching between them, she tugged down the zipper of his jeans, feeling his hard length spring against her palm as she freed him, and his words were a muffled moan as she began to stroke him.

‘I thought you said—’

‘I changed my mind,’ she whispered. ‘It’s a woman’s prerogative, Rocco—hadn’t you heard?’

With her thumb and her forefinger she began to tease his taut erection but he halted her fingers with the firm clamp of his own and she heard him give an unsteady laugh.

She stared at him indignantly. ‘What’s so funny?’

‘You are. I had no idea you could be so...mercurial. I like it.’

A prick of sadness threatened to puncture Nicole’s blissful state. Of course he hadn’t known what she was capable of and had never bothered finding out because he hadn’t really cared. To Rocco she would always be the office cleaner in the too small uniform with the mop and bucket in her hand—the last woman in the world he should have married.

But she wasn’t going to think about that.

Not now.

She was going to think how good this felt and to enjoy every single second of it.

And then she was going to kiss him goodbye.

‘I’m pleased you like it but you’d better not get used to it,’ she warned softly.

‘To what?’

‘The sex.’

He raised his eyebrows. ‘Oh?’

‘Since we both know this is only going to happen once.’

‘Is that so?’ He seemed to recover himself then and Nicole saw the light of challenge in his eyes as he peeled off her T-shirt with a fluid movement and carried her over to the bed. ‘In that case maybe we should stop wasting so much time talking and get down to business.’

‘You’re obsessed with business,’ she said faintly as he put her down on the bed, and he laughed. Nicole watched him fishing around in the pocket of his jeans before kicking them off and joining her. And suddenly he was towering over her, one knee pressed on either side of her hips as she lay there naked, except for her brief pair of lacy black panties.

‘So how do you want it?’ he murmured. ‘Fast? Slow? Lights on? Off?’