The Italian's Pregnant Mistress

She had also put candles in his bedroom, ignoring his objections that they were a potential fire hazard. Atmosphere, she had told him. Nothing was as wonderfully atmospheric as candles flickering in the dark. And scented ones were even better. Every so often she replaced them and had been amused when, a couple of weeks back, she had discovered that he had added one or two to the collection.

She got undressed as he carefully lit them one by one and she felt a lump gather in her throat. It seemed strangely romantic in a union         that was devoid of all romance.

She was out of her clothing by the time his ritual lighting of the candles was over and Angelo turned and looked at her, marvelling at the lithe, graceful lines of her body. Full breasts, perfectly moulded and topped with large rose-coloured nipples, a stomach that owed nothing to exercise and everything to her gene pool, slender hips and legs that were as supple as a gazelle’s. Any wonder she still had such a hold over him? What man in his right mind wouldn’t want to make love to a woman as exquisite as that over and over again?

He stood where he was and unbuttoned his shirt. His skin felt hot. He tugged the shirt off and tossed it on the floor, then his trousers and boxers followed suit. He was heavily aroused and it amused him to see the way her eyes drifted to his erect manhood. He could almost hear the little catch in her breath. He took it in one hand and tantalised her by slowly pleasuring himself.

Without saying anything, Francesca moved to the bed and lay down, stretching out provocatively and curling her fingers around the wrought iron railings of the bed head.

Angelo moved towards her, hand still on his stiffened member, until he was standing right over her.

‘Oh, the games people play.’ He laughed softly, watching as she moved forward so that she could push his hand away and replace it with her mouth. He had never known a woman who was so adept at giving him pleasure, just as she was giving him pleasure now, licking and sucking the massive swell of his erection.

He plunged his fingers into her hair and arched back, knowing that he was only a hair’s breadth away from spilling his seed. He had to exercise the utmost control, making sure that his breathing was deep and even. He tugged her gently away when he was actually aching from the need to ejaculate.

‘Oh, no, my beautiful little witch.’ Their eyes met and tangled in the half light. ‘I want to savour every last inch of you before I get there…I want you to hold on to the iron rails and don’t let go, whatever I do…’

‘Sounds ominous. Should I be scared?’

‘Only if you’re scared of going to Heaven…’

‘That’s a big promise.’

‘And I’m a man who always keeps his.’ He straddled her and she held fast to the rails of the bed head. Her breasts pouted up at him, the rosy nipples swollen and sensitive, but first he kissed her, leaning down and supporting himself on either side of her with his hands. His kiss was hot and urgent and her body arched up until she could feel his member rubbing against her. Lord, but how she wanted him! Her body felt weak and helplessly driven.

She wrapped her arms around him to pull him down and he tutted into her ear.

‘No cheating, now.’

‘I have to touch you, Angelo!’

‘In due course…Now, am I going to have to tie you up? I’m not averse to a little bondage.’

A hot surge of excitement flooded her and she grinned at him, her breathing quick and unsteady.

‘Oh, you keep handcuffs on the premises, do you? Very kinky, Mr Falcone. I wonder what your mother would have to say about that!’

‘Not handcuffs, my little darling. But I do have a wide assortment of silk ties.’ He nibbled her neck while she writhed under him, desperate for him to press himself against her.

‘Silk ties sound like fun.’ Francesca couldn’t believe what she was saying but her trust in him was so utterly complete. Where no other man would ever be permitted to venture, she flung open the door to him. He wrapped silk ties around her wrists, so loosely that she could pull free of them at any time, not that she wanted to.

Then, inch by inch, he explored her body, starting with her shoulders and working his way down to her breasts. He suckled on them, tugging the tips gently with his teeth and drawing moans of pleasure from her. Instead of rushing him to continue, she was constrained by the ties to submit to this leisurely exploration. His tongue trailed along her stomach, circling her belly button as his hands smoothed sensuously along her sides, then up to massage her breasts, to prime them for yet more erotic pleasure. His tongue rasping over her nipples dragged a groan out of her—a husky, animal sound that she couldn’t believe she had made.