A Dangerous Solace

‘You went into a chemist’s?’

‘Si.’ A slight smile edged his mouth. ‘Why aren’t you naked?’

She ignored that, even though her knees felt wobbly. ‘Are you planning on sleeping with a lot of women while you’re here?’

‘I think my time will be taken up with you, bella,’ he said, advancing on her.

‘But four boxes?’ She backed up and her bottom hit the wall. How had she ended up all the way over here?

‘I was in a hurry,’ he said, shrugging it off.

Ava’s fears, arguments and nonsensical reasoning dried up.

He hadn’t planned this. He hadn’t planned any of it! Wouldn’t a man with seduction on his mind have armed himself with the necessaries? Didn’t a guy like him come with a kit they handed out at Playboys Incorporated? All of her preconceptions were breaking down because this didn’t feel standard or routine. He wasn’t acting as if this meant nothing.

He’d gone out and found a chemist—like an ordinary person.

Ava saw the fierce urgency in his expression, the way he was watching her—like a lion eying a gazelle he was preparing to take down. It reminded her there was nothing ordinary about Gianluca Benedetti, and although they had been together before he was older now, a great deal had changed, and she had spent the last seven years learning how disappointing she was in bed.

Yet he’d brought back condoms. She felt as if he’d gone out and slain dragons for her.

‘What about your meetings?’ she asked on a deep swallow.

‘What meetings?’

He leaned over her, one arm caging her in as he pressed his hand to the wall above her shoulder, the other deftly dealing with the knotted belt around her waist.

His fingers brushed against her bare belly as the robe fell open, circling her navel. Every sensible thought in her head flew out, probably never to be heard from again.

He drew his fingertips up through the valley between her breasts all the way to brush over her clavicle, then he gently nudged the robe over the curve of her shoulder until it fell a little way down her back, revealing her shoulder and most of one breast.

His eyes grew intent under that heavy fringe of lashes as he traced the edge of the robe on its descent to the outer rim of her nipple.

‘Are you sensitive here?’

Ava trembled as he rubbed softly over the puffy pink of her areola. ‘Y-yes.’

Why was he asking these questions? Why didn’t he just get on with it?

She watched him deftly nudge the cloth west and circle her nipple with his thumb. She gave a little start. She wanted him to use his teeth, like he had in the shower, suck on them hard, make the muscles of her inner thighs clench. She needed him to overwhelm her before she lost her nerve.

She didn’t have his confidence. She wasn’t very good in bed.

Yet his gentleness was what she wanted too. She hadn’t expected it, and she found she wanted it like her next breath.

God help her, it didn’t feel like seduction.

He pushed the robe off her other shoulder and it fell heavily to the floor. Ava hoped the dusky light would be kind to her. She was aware of him lightly fondling her breasts as he simply looked at her, as if memorising the fullness of their shape above the narrow span of her waist, the gentle curve of her belly below and the more dramatic rounding of her hips, the tiny dark brown curls guarding her secrets between the solidity of her thighs. Ava knew all of these things about herself. She also knew it was hard for her to be naked with someone and arousal was not an easy thing for her. Yet here she was, humming all over, with energy moving through her body like light, warming her, setting her aglow.

She forced herself to meet his gaze head-on and...

‘You are perfetto.’ His hands smoothed over her breasts, glided down her ribs to spread over the flare of her hips, and he brought her in so close she could feel the tremble in his body.

Okay. This was nice. He was looking at her as if she was a goddess and that just made her feel...

Good. It made her feel good. Strong. Female.

Except shouldn’t she be touching him too? She didn’t want to be accused of being cold.

Bernard had always complained about her lack of participation, but she would always get lost in her head, start making lists for the next day, and really it had begun and finished too fast for her to warm up.

She wouldn’t mind going a little faster right now, because she was feeling extremely warm at this point, no lists in her head. She rested her palms on his chest, her fingers tackling the few buttons he’d managed to do up, touching his chest lightly at first and then with more confidence. He felt so hard—springy flesh over steely muscle. She wasn’t used to muscle. She wasn’t used to feeling smaller, daintier, feminine.