The Mistress That Tamed De Santis

He’d chosen a romantic melody and it was so easy to let go and lose herself in the streaming beauty of it. Smiling, she stretched her arms wide and simply moved, not showing any fancy steps, not needing to prove anything to him.

That was the thing, with him—physically, at least, she could simply enjoy the sensations, the moment. And now, the music.

But as the melody worked towards its crescendo she couldn’t help looking at him to gauge his reaction. Her gaze meshed with his and was caught fast. His magnetism pulled her nearer. As the music grew softer, she danced closer. Softer and closer still until, as the last note died away, she slipped between the piano and him. He leaned back to let her straddle his muscular thighs. That wicked smile curved his lips and he began to play another piece, a teasing glint warming his ice-blue eyes.

She decided two could tease. She bent close and poured all the radiance she felt into her kiss. The notes of the piano continued to sound for only a moment. Then his magic fingers began to play her and she was so very glad she’d worn a dress.

He slipped the soft fabric up her thighs, exposing her to his touch. She wriggled and he slipped the silk right over her head.

‘Antonio,’ she breathed softly, so hot for him already.

‘At your service,’ he promised, leaning forward to kiss the crest of her breasts. ‘I’m wondering if I can make you sound as good as my piano.’

‘Play me and see.’

‘I can already see,’ he muttered in a pleased tone.

She felt his hardness beneath her and ached to free him from his clothing. She reached for him.

‘Nu huh.’ He shifted her above him with a laugh. ‘I’m playing you, remember?’

‘I was going for some harmony. Accompaniment.’ She needed him with her. In her. Like now.

‘Soon.’ He soothed her with a kiss.

‘No. Now.’ She kissed him hard.

But he was ruthless. Relentless. He caressed, kissed, rubbed. Hard then soft, changing his stroke and rhythm, tormenting her until she banged the damn piano keys herself, trying to hurry him to get him to take her. When he finally relented and let her reach her release, she screamed long and loud until she slumped into his arms with a sigh.

‘I can’t take any more,’ she begged. ‘I need you. Please.’

He clasped her tightly and carried her through to another room. He set her on her feet and stood back from her.

‘Take me, then,’ he invited.

She noticed nothing at all about his bedroom. She was only focused on him. But he had to help her strip him out of his clothes. She was too frantic, too needy to get her fingers to work properly.

‘Condoms. Pocket,’ he muttered roughly.

She retrieved one and with a small smile set about ensuring he was sheathed. She took her time and used her mouth as much as her hands and when she’d finally finished he was swearing in a continuous stream beneath his breath.

She laughed and pushed him so he fell back on the bed. But the moment she knelt on the expansive mattress to join him he moved, as quick and powerful as a panther catching his prey. She rolled, letting him, welcoming him. She couldn’t wait a second longer anyway.

‘Hurry,’ she called to him. ‘Please.’

But he paused and smiled down at her and she knew what that wicked, gleaming smile meant.

Sheer, delightful torture.

‘You’re not going to do this fast, are you?’ She shivered as her body geared up for more of his teasing onslaught.

He angled his head as if considering the plea in her words. ‘It might end up that way. Eventually.’

She licked her lips and ran her hand down his rock-hard abs. ‘I’m willing to fight dirty.’ She’d do whatever she could to make him claim her sooner rather than later.

That challenge sharpened the edge in his expression. ‘Go ahead, darling, do your worst. I intend to fight dirtier.’

Oh, Lord, she was in trouble. She yelped in laughter as he tugged her further up the mattress so he could claim the part of her most begging for his attention again.

And then she just gave in to his desire to see her soar again. He might be reserved, but when he was fully focused on her—it was wicked heaven.

That magical hour later she smiled as he lay sprawled, sweat slicked and breathless, at the opposite end of the bed. The coverings were on the floor, the dawn light warmed the room and she’d never been as relaxed in her life. And she’d never felt as close to anyone else either. Not just physically, but it was as if she was in tune with him and they’d made the most beautiful music together.