The Sicilian's Innocent Mistress

Luc groaned as he surrendered to that hunger….

CHAPTER SEVEN

DARCI was aware of Luc with every responsive part of her—lips, hands, skin—all sensitised to the feel of the hard length of his body as he lay above her. Her fingers revelled in the feel of the muscles rippling across his back as his lips continued to plunder, to claim, his tongue stroking lightly, questioningly, against her lips, taking their parting as his answer before moving silkily inside, where he began to probe and lick and taste her.

She felt the warm silkiness of that tongue claim her—gently, and then more demandingly, as the thrusts of his tongue became rhythmic, dancing, duelling with hers, as her body came alive, aching, heated. Darci groaned low in her throat, knowing she craved the touch of his hands upon her, inside her.

She knew that Luc had heard, understood her need, as one of his hands moved restlessly over her ribcage—close, so close to her aching breasts, and yet still not quite touching. Those fingers moved featherlight against her, like the gentle beat of butterfly wings.

His lips left hers to move with moist open-mouthed kisses down the long column of her throat, evoking a pleasure that went all the way down to her toes.

‘Please…!’ she pleaded urgently, her back arching with her need. That request turned to a long, shuddering sigh as she felt Luc’s hand curve about her breast over her T-shirt. Long fingers circled her with excruciating promise, until she cried out again and the pad of his thumb flicked against that hardened nub, sending rivulets of heat and fire between her thighs as her breasts grew heavy and full.

Luc had felt his control slipping the moment Darci arched against him. Even the thin material of her T-shirt was too much. He wanted to feel flesh against flesh, half achieving it as he pushed her top up to gaze down on the lush fullness of her breasts, her pouting nipples. Those deep rose tips were a temptation he couldn’t resist, and he bent his head and took her into his mouth, stroking his tongue across their hard arousal.

He was instantly rewarded by Darci’s fingers curling into his muscled shoulders, nails digging into his flesh. Luc welcomed that pleasure-pain as he laved, suckled and tasted, drawing her deeper and deeper into his mouth. He couldn’t seem to get enough of her.

She was like fire in his arms, molten lava, and the restless caress of her hands, her lips, threatened to burn them both in flames as Luc’s thighs moved demandingly against hers, rubbing against her mound. He knew by the way she stroked against him that he had found her sensitive nub, was feeling himself become moist at that friction of movement. He knew that Darci was wet, too, that those swollen pink lips were weeping for his possession.

And he wanted to take her. Right now. Wanted her with a madness that was wild, almost beyond his control.

That was beyond his control!

His caresses became more demanding, more intimate, as he pushed her skirt up, his hand moving unerringly to the inferno that burned between Darci’s thighs.

She came to her senses as she felt the brush of cool air against her bared skin—as she realised that it was happening again!

That maybe she had been wrong after all—and Luc was irresistible to all women.

No!

She couldn’t do this. Wouldn’t do this. Would not become just another woman that Luc Gambrelli—the totally irresistible Luc Gambrelli—had seduced.

She wrenched her mouth from his to glare up at him. ‘Don’t, Luc!’ she told him forcefully.

‘Don’t…?’ he repeated in surprise, his eyes dark and stormy, a flush to those high cheekbones.

‘No,’ she confirmed determinedly as she straightened her clothing. ‘Unless it was a lie when you claimed you didn’t intend making love to me on a bed of pine-cones?’

Luc stared down at her for several long, tense moments, before rolling onto his side and then onto his back, his arm up over his eyes as he breathed deeply.

Darci lay on the blanket beside him, staring sightlessly up at the sky, totally disorientated by what had just happened. She had wanted Luc—wanted him with a fierceness that had bordered on mindless madness.

And made a complete nonsense of her avowal that a man like Luc Gambrelli would never succeed in seducing her!