The Italian's One-Night Baby

‘Sta’ zitto… Shut up!’ Rio urged, burying his face between those utterly magnificent breasts while wrestling with a bra that had more restrictive hooks than a corset. If she talked, she would talk herself out of it, he thought in consternation, and he looked down into her beautiful eyes, emerald as the most precious of jewels, and told her to close them.

‘You are incredible’ was wrenched from him, breaking his self-imposed silence as he studied the lush creamy swell of her glorious breasts. An awed fingertip brushed a large pink nipple already pouting for his attention. He wanted to carry her up to his bedroom, spread her out and enjoy her as she should be enjoyed but he didn’t want to break the spell.

Instead he bent his dark head and succumbed to the considerable allure of her breasts. He whisked his tongue over a rigid bud the colour of a tea rose and teased the tortured peak, loving the way she shifted under him, instantly responsive to his every caress.

Ellie had fallen so deep that she was drowning in the world of sensation she had always denied herself. The hunger in her for more was unbearable. Her breasts throbbed, sending messages to the lush damp place between her shifting thighs. Her hips lifted in frustration. She wanted Rio everywhere at once. She wanted the impossible. She also wanted his clothes off with a strength of craving that shook her because it was not as though she was a stranger to the male anatomy. In frustration, she hauled at the shoulders of

his jacket and he reared back from her with a sudden surprised laugh and peeled it off to pitch it on the floor.

‘And the shirt,’ Ellie instructed him shakily, scarcely believing what she was doing, what she was participating in, and unable to dwell on it lest her caution yank her back from the edge. And she wanted Rio, she wanted him so much that she was weak from the wanting and the never-ending wondering and longing that had dogged her since the day they had first met.

A couple of shirt buttons came loose of their stitching as Rio ripped off the shirt with an almost joyful air of abandonment. He was all lean muscle sheathed in sleek bronzed skin from his wide shoulders to his narrow waist and she stared helplessly entranced and surprised at her visceral reaction to his masculinity. As the shirt dropped, he smiled at her in a way he had never smiled before and that slanting, teasing grin was purebred enticement on his darkly beautiful face. Indeed that smile had so much appeal that she sat up and hauled him down towards her to claim his devastating mouth for herself again.

He lay on his side, kissing her breathless and she revelled in every kiss and the brush of his skilled fingers over her wildly sensitised breasts. He pushed up her skirt and traced the edges of her panties, teasing, tormenting, making her agonisingly aware of just how desperate she was to be touched. A finger slid beneath the lace and stroked her swollen folds. She was wet, so wet she was embarrassed by her body and its screaming eagerness. A fingertip circled her and suddenly there was no room for embarrassment, no room for anything but her own gasping, jerking response. He took away that final barrier and explored her.

He shimmied down the sofa and used his mouth on that tender place between her thighs and if lying still had been a challenge before it soon became an impossible challenge for Ellie. Her fingers clawed into his luxuriant black hair, her body dancing and twisting to the powerful drumbeat of desire. The sensations he evoked were excruciatingly intense and only heightened the tormenting ache of need building deep in her pelvis. Heat gathered and mounted uncontrollably at the heart of her and then, taking her entirely by surprise, exploded outwards in a violent climax of sweet, shattering pleasure.

‘Madre di Dio… I can’t wait to be inside you, bella mia,’ Rio said huskily, rearranging her and sliding fluidly between her parted thighs. ‘I am so hungry for you.’

Do I want this? Ellie asked herself and she knew she didn’t need to ask that question because when she looked up into Rio’s gorgeous dark eyes she was ready to agree to do anything he wanted to do. It was as though she were in a dream without a past or a future or even a present. She felt as though there was nothing but that moment and she liked it that way.

Rio tilted her back and drove into her with a single powerful thrust. And Ellie twisted her head to one side and bit her lip because it hurt, it hurt much more than she had expected, and that burning sting of pain wrenched a muffled little moan of discomfort from between her gritted teeth.

‘Something wrong?’ Rio rasped, lifting his tousled dark head. ‘Dio mio, you are so tight you feel like a virgin!’

‘I am!’ Ellie gasped before she could think better of making that admission.

Rio had already sunk as deep as he could get into her tiny body and he froze in shock to gaze down at her. ‘A virgin?’ he echoed in ringing disbelief. ‘How can you be a virgin?’

Ellie wrinkled her nose. ‘Oh, just get it over with, for goodness’ sake,’ she told him in desperation.

Stunned by that irreverent urging, Rio took several seconds to absorb what had happened. She was a virgin? How was that possible? And why hadn’t he noticed anything different about her? He shifted position, withdrawing and then slowly gliding back. Get it over with? What was he? An ordeal to be endured?

The friction of his movement created a little hum of pulsing sensation low in Ellie’s body. She shut her eyes tight, refusing to think, indeed terrified to allow herself to think about what she had just done, what she had just allowed him to do. And while she was battening down her mental hatches, Rio was putting every atom of skill he possessed into rescuing the situation. But he was hugely aroused and working alone because Ellie lay there under him like a little felled tree.

He pushed her knees up and ground down into her, delving deeper, setting an insistent rhythm that she couldn’t ignore. Her hips lifted but much against her will because she was set on simply tolerating him. A frenzied heat began to build and she fought it off as though it were a forest fire. Her hips rose involuntarily and he slammed down into her, sending a startling pulse of pleasure through her. Her heart thumped like crazy, the ability to breathe stolen from her as he picked up speed and force and dominated her. Wild excitement surged and gripped her but much against her will. Her hands bit into his shoulders and then slid caressingly down his muscular back as this time she sensed the peak she was reaching towards.

A chain reaction of convulsions claimed her and she cried out as the ripples of ecstasy spread in a blinding moment of release that consumed her. Rio shuddered and held her tight and bit out something raw and rough in Italian, his powerful body surging into hers. Within seconds, however, she was free again, watching in a daze as Rio sprang off the sofa to fix his trousers and reach for his shirt.

‘You were a virgin?’ Rio repeated incredulously, because innocence and Ellie were a combination that refused to compute in his brain.

Wincing, Ellie sat up and pushed down her skirt. Her panties were lying on the tiles but she had no intention of trying to reclaim them in front of him. She was shell-shocked and shattered by what had taken place. She couldn’t believe she had had sex with Rio. Just then in the aftermath it looked like the worst decision ever after a lifetime of vigilant caution.

‘A virgin?’ Rio prompted again as if a virgin were as improbable as a glimpse of a unicorn. ‘So, why give it up to me?’

‘Maybe I wanted to lose it with someone who would put me off further experimentation,’ Ellie suggested with honeyed derision. ‘Stop acting as if you’ve been grievously assaulted by a virgin, Rio. I can’t be the first you’ve been with—’

‘You are!’ Rio contradicted accusingly, taken aback by her gutsy attitude.

Ellie stood up, very discreetly retrieved her underwear and, quite deliberately ignoring him, went off in search of a cloakroom. It actually hurt to walk, she acknowledged in shock. She ached as though they had had sex for hours. The experience felt less like an introduction and more like a lesson. Be careful of what you wish for, she told herself unhappily. He had leapt off that sofa as though he had been electrocuted. Innocence was clearly a hanging offence in Rio’s book.

Another much more worrying fact was screaming along the edge of Rio’s ragged nerves while he paced the hall, waiting impatiently for Ellie to reappear. He had never met a woman like Ellie and he was very certain that he never wanted to meet another. She drove him crazy. She made him do and say things he never did or said with anyone else. She screwed with his brain, unleashed his temper and sent him racing off the edge of sanity. She had the seductive powers of a temptress and yet how could that be when she had self-evidently had no sexual experience whatsoever? He was terrific in bed and he knew that but she had behaved as though he were useless. So, why did he want her to stay the night? Simply to rescue his ego? And what about Beppe? And what about the lack of a condom? He groaned out loud in frustration and raked his fingers through his cropped black curls. Rio felt raw.

Only innate courage persuaded Ellie out of the sanctuary of the cloakroom because in reality she wanted to curl up and die somewhere well out of Rio’s sight and reach. She didn’t want to see him again; she didn’t want to have to speak to him again either. She simply wanted to forget what had happened and continue her holiday.

‘Please drive me back to my hotel,’ she said woodenly, refusing to look directly at him.

‘Are you on the pill? Or any other form of contraception?’ Rio asked her with startling abruptness.