He waited.
Her gaze swept lower.
Color flooded her face.
Dio! He could feel himself swelling though he would not have imagined such a thing possible. Any harder, any bigger and surely he would die.
“Emily.”
His voice was rough. Her head came up; her gaze flew to his. He reached for her hand, Brought it to him. She made a little humming sound as her palm curved over the fly of his boxers. Her tongue appeared again, a kitten’s tongue, and slicked across her bottom lip.
He shut his eyes. Concentrated on—on anything but this. Counted silently to five. To ten…
And almost went to his knees when her hand reached inside his fly and wrapped around his fevered flesh.
He groaned.
She sighed his name.
Her fingers moved against him in delicate exploration. His head fell back.
“Does this please you?” she whispered.
He gave a broken laugh. She started to pull back; his closed his fingers over hers and taught her to let her hand ride him as he would soon ride her.
He was going to come from this, only from this, from her touch but he didn’t want her to stop, didn’t want this to end…
A shudder went through him.
He clasped her hand and took it from him.
“No more,” he said gruffly, “or this will end too soon.”
He curved his hands around her hips. Bent his head, Kissed her breasts, teased the sweet pink nipples with his tongue, his teeth. She moaned. Her hands dug into his hair and she moaned again as he drew first one nipple and then the other into the wet heat of his mouth.
He raised his head.
“Do you like when I do that?” he said thickly. “Tell me what you feel.”
“Yes. Oh yes. Oh yes…”
“And this?”
His free hand slid between her thighs. A cry rose in her throat as his fingers parted her.
“Don’t. Oh, don’t. I can’t stand it when you—”
His thumb moved over her clitoris. Back and forth. Back and forth. He could feel the soft, delicate flesh swelling under his touch, could see Emily’s eyes blur with passion.
He dropped to his knees. Cupped her bottom. Found her with his mouth.
She sobbed his name as he sucked and licked, as took her up and up, into the night, into the star-shot night where she shattered into a million bright crystals.
Her legs buckled.
She would have fallen if Marco had not risen quickly to his feet and swept her into his arms. He kissed her. Deeply. Endlessly. She lifted her arms, wound them tightly around his neck, tasted their mingled passion on his tongue.
“Emily. Emilia mia,” he whispered. “I need to be inside you.”