The Italian

His bedroom is big, modern, and minimalistic. The walls are a dark gray, almost navy blue. The linen on the huge bed is white, and white chunky sofas surround another bluestone fireplace. The artwork on the walls is all monochrome photography. It really is something else.

“Wow. You have impeccable taste.”

He steps forward, bringing us closer. “I do.” He kisses me with such passion that I can’t keep my eyes open.

Damn this man and his magic tongue.

Our kiss turns frantic, and my hands go to his hair, while his hands go to my behind. Suddenly, he lets me have it both barrels. We slam up against the wall as we lose control. He turns me away from him and unzips my dress. It falls to the floor and I stand before him in a black strapless bra and lace panties.

His eyes drop as he drinks me in. When they rise to meet mine again, they’re blazing with fire.

He wants me. Every inch of him wants me.

I can feel it.

He undoes my bra and tosses it to the side. My large breasts fall free. He slides my panties down my legs. His chin rises, and he hisses in appreciation. His dark eyes burn holes in my skin.

“Hmm, there she is.” His voice is deep and guttural—a hushed whisper.

My sex begins to throb. “Take it off.”

He holds his hands out. “If you want me, you come and get it.”

Suddenly I’m frantic. I tear his T-shirt off over his head and I throw it. I’m met with the sight of his broad chest, scattered with dark hair, and his muscular shoulders, too. His skin is a beautiful honey shade of tan.

Oh, God, yes. Spurred on by the sight of him, I unfasten the zipper on his jeans and push then down—his boxers, too.

His stomach is washboard hard, his legs muscular and strong, and his black pubic hair is short and well-kept. His large cock hangs heavily between his legs.

Thick veins run down the engorged length of it. Rico is rock hard and ready to go. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.

Good grief, this man is one hell of a specimen.

He stands still, his hands by his side as my eyes roam over his skin.

My chest rises and falls as I struggle for air. I place my hand on his chest, and then retract it quickly and close my fist as if he burned me.

Maybe he did.

This man is white hot. The kind you read about in romance books… the kind that breaks your heart.

“Rici.” My eyes drop lower. “You’ve become even more beautiful,” I whisper to myself. “How is this even possible?”

His eyes hold mine and if I’m not mistaken, he seems nervous. Is he waiting for my approval?

“Baby,” I whisper as I step forward. I rise up on my toes and softly kiss him. His hand curls around my waist. “Show me,” I breathe against his lips. “Show me what I’ve been missing.”

His eyes close and he moans against my lips as our kiss reaches a new level.

As if that’s the green light he’s been waiting for, his hands grab my behind with force, and he grinds his cock against my pubic bone and walks me back to the bed. His dark eyes hold mine as he lies me down and arranges me exactly how he wants me.

On my back with my legs wide open.

/> His hand moves to his cock, and he strokes it slowly as he looks down at me.

Pre-ejaculate drips from the end of his cock, and my back arches as I begin to lose control.

This is ridiculous. He’s hardly touched me, and I swear, I could orgasm at any moment by just watching him pull himself. His grip on his cock tightens, and he gives himself three hard jerks, and then drops his head and kisses my inner thigh with an open mouth. I buckle beneath him.