Her breath caught in her throat. The way he touched her was reverent. So different. Such contrast. So loving. Then his mouth was on hers, kissing her. Sweeping her away in the way he did, that slow gentle start, coaxing her to open her mouth for him. She parted her lips because it was Taviano and she wanted his fire. She wanted to feel the heat and possession. The safety and love that came with the flames that burned every time he kissed her.
Then she couldn’t think, only feel, her body melting into his, legs sliding down the mattress, his arm behind her back locking her to him. Her arms went around his neck and she kissed him back, her tongue dueling and dancing with his. There were the familiar flames engulfing her, the burn that began in her throat and traveled through her body to pool into a steady pulsing need that refused to leave. Desire grew and grew until her hips bucked restlessly, seeking relief.
Taviano’s hand cupped her left breast, his thumb stroking her nipple, and she arched her back, desperate for more. His mouth left hers and he kissed his way down her throat to the top of her right breast, all the while stroking and flicking the left nipple. His touch sent shock waves through her, each harder and more intense than the last. Her breath turned ragged. She’d never quite felt the sensations he was producing, and she wanted more.
His mouth closed over her breast and he sucked hard, using his tongue on her nipple while he tugged and rolled on her left nipple just a little harder. Now the waves rolled through her like a storm. She could barely catch her breath. She never wanted it to stop. The tension deep inside coiled tighter and tighter. She grew slicker and hotter. So hot.
He switched his attention to the other breast, his tongue swirling gently around her left nipple before his mouth closed over her breast. He began that tugging and rolling sensation on her other nipple, interspersing rough and gentle so she couldn’t quite catch any rhythm. It was so perfect. So unbelievably perfect. But she needed more. She needed him.
His mouth left her breast and he began to kiss his way down her belly. She caught his head in both hands. He raised his gaze to her face. Her heart accelerated at the absolute love she saw there.
“I want you to make love to me.”
“I am making love to you, Nicoletta,” he said softly. “Don’t you feel it?”
“Every time you touch me, I feel it. I want you inside me.”
He went very still. “You have to be certain, amore mio. You have to be ready. Don’t say that because you want to do it for me.”
“For both of us. If it doesn’t work this time, I know it will be all right.” She poured confidence into her voice. Her fingers slipped into his thick hair and held there. She wished they weren’t trembling, but there was no way to control the fear rising.
It wasn’t fear of Taviano but of failing him. Of failing both of them. Of letting her step-uncles win. She was already afraid of being pinned down and looking for a way to escape.
Taviano pressed a kiss into her belly button and rolled over. “Come here, piccola. Be my beautiful little cowgirl.”
She turned her head and looked at him, one eyebrow up, but she was used to doing what Taviano wanted, so she was already sitting up. “Your cowgirl?”
He caught her leg and tugged. “Ride me.”
He looked enormous. One hand was casually fisting the base of his cock, the other tugging her leg over him so she would straddle his body.
“You might be a little intimidating, Taviano,” she admitted, but she wanted him inside of her. She needed him there.
For the first time in her life, this was her choice. He made that very clear. No one was holding her down. He simply waited for her to decide, stroking himself, his eyes on her face, so much love shining at her it was close to worship.
She straddled him, sliding her body over his, her entrance slick and throbbing with desire so profound she shook. The moment he was pressed against her, that thick, velvet-steel crown, she hesitated, fear gripping her. He didn’t move, just his fist, a lazy pump up and down, his gaze never leaving her face.
“You’re so damn beautiful, Nicoletta. Sometimes, when I would come to your bedroom, I swear I could barely breathe when I looked at you. Now, without your clothes on …” He reached up and touched her nipple gently. “You’re so gorgeous.” His hand slid to her belly. “Someday, our child will be right here, and you’ll ride me, just like this, and I’ll get to see how beautiful my woman looks when she’s carrying my baby and is about to come apart for me.”