Craving Her Enemy's Touch
Just when she thought she couldn’t stand the torment any longer he stopped kissing her and, with blatant intent, led her through to his bedroom. As with the rest of the apartment, old blended stylishly with new and the corner of the room comprised of windows offering unrivalled views of the Duomo, lit up and sparkling like a thousand jewels against the night sky. But all that was lost on her. All she could see was him.
‘Un momento.’ He released her hand and closed the cream curtains before flicking on the bedside lamps, creating a room for romance. Then he walked back towards her, slipping off his jacket as he did so and tossing it carelessly onto the armchair that filled another corner of the room.
‘Wait,’ she said and walked towards him, smiling coyly, her gaze meeting his from beneath her lowered lashes. With unashamed enticement she reached up, flattened her hands against his chest, revelling in the strength and his ragged intake of breath. Slowly she pulled one end of his tie until it fell from his neck. Holding it up, she dangled it in front of him like a trophy, her brows raised suggestively.
‘Tease.’ He reached out, took hold of her waist and pulled her against him, his hold keeping her there, leaving her in no doubt he wanted her.
Still believing she was in charge, she undid first one button of his shirt and, meeting no resistance, continued with each button until she was forced to gently pull the shirt from his trousers. As she unfastened the final buttons she slid her hands inside and over his chest. Hair covered his muscles, but couldn’t hide them from her exploring hands. The heat of his body emboldened her further.
She looked at his face, his eyes so dark and heavy with desire that shivers of delight rushed over her. Very slowly she pushed open the shirt and kissed his chest, little kisses as light as a feather all over him, his musky scent invading her senses. She heard him groan with pleasure, his hold on her waist tightening, and she smiled.
She pulled back from him and pushed the shirt from his shoulders. ‘This has to go.’ Her voice was husky and she almost didn’t recognise it, but then she’d never done anything so bold before.
One-night stands had never been for her, not after the devastation caused to her parents’ marriage, when her mother had succumbed to temptation. But this was different. Deep down, she acknowledged that if it had happened at a different time, in a different place it could have been so much more than one night.
She pushed that thought aside, refusing to allow it to defuse the sexual tension which filled the room.
He lifted his arms behind her as he unfastened the cuffs of his shirt, pressing her unbearably close. Before he released her, his lips pressed hard to hers, his breathing deep as his tongue slid into her mouth, teasing and tasting. She kissed him back, demanding more. For a moment his kiss matched hers, then abruptly he pulled back. ‘The shirt?’
She smiled, feeling more brazen by the second. ‘Yes, the shirt,’ she whispered. ‘It has to go.’ She slid her hands up his chest, making him groan and close his eyes as she lingered there before pushing the white material from his shoulders. He moved first one arm from her, then the other and the shirt fell to the floor.
Again he pulled her close, but this time his fingers caught the zip at the back of her dress, slowly pulling it lower and lower; all the while his eyes held hers. Shyness swept over her and she resisted the urge to look away as his hand slid over her shoulder, pushing the one sleeve away and revealing her skin to his kisses.
The dress slipped down her body and slithered into a heap of silk and sequins at her feet. She stood against him, conscious of the fact that she now only wore the red underwear she’d bought to go with the dress and the strappy sandals she’d fallen in love with instantly.
Before she had time to think, he’d swept her off her feet and carried her to the bed. She lay where he’d placed her and looked up at him. He kicked off his shoes and was reaching for the fastener on his trousers when she knelt up on the bed and pushed his hands away. ‘My turn.’
Who was this bold woman, this seductress? And why did it have to be this man who’d revealed her? This was a side of her she’d never known existed. Never before had passion taken over, making her want things with scant regard for the consequences.
A string of Italian that she was unable to understand flew from his lips as she opened his trousers, letting them slip down, leaving him in only a snug pair of black hipsters. As she looked up at him he caught her face between his hands and bent to kiss her. The spark was well and truly lit. Electricity shot between them. There would be no stopping now.