“Commando?”
“Always.”
I knew I was never going to be able to look at him without remembering that fact.
He thrust upward, his length overflowing my grip. He was hot and heavy in my hand. Soft as velvet and hard as steel. I began to stroke him, staring down in fascination as his cock wept for me, and I sped up my movements. I gasped as he slid his fingers inside my shorts, finding my clit and circling it in hard, urgent circles.
“Fuck, Tesoro, what the hell are you doing to me,” he gritted out, tightening his hand on my neck.
I lifted my head, our eyes locking. Passion, need, and want blazed from his dark gaze. He pulled my face close to his, his breath washing over me. “I want to see you come again,” he demanded, the words rough and commanding. “And I’m going to come all over you.”
I pumped him and he stiffened, his fingers moving faster, and my body locked down.
He swelled in my hand, jets of hot liquid spilling over, landing on my thighs, my shirt, dripping over my fist. I gasped as my orgasm hit me, and I threw back my head, fighting against the urge to scream his name. He dragged me close, burying his face in my neck, and I felt the sharp edge of his teeth, then the wet stroke of his tongue along my skin. I rode out my pleasure until I was spent. Until I dropped my head onto his shoulder, panting and sweaty.
And messy. So very messy.
“Guess it’s a good thing tomorrow is laundry day,” I quipped.
He began to laugh. Muted, rolling guffaws that lifted and shook me on his lap. He eased his hand from me and sat back, then slowly slid his fingers between his lips, his eyes on me the whole time as he tasted me.
Just to tease him, I did the same thing with my finger, running it over my lips and licking his essence from them. “Hmm,” I murmured.
He narrowed his eyes. “Now I want you all over again. Except this time naked.”
I jumped from his lap, looking down at myself. “Sorry, that was a strike. You’re out.”
He rose to his feet, tucking himself in. “Is that a fact?”
I backed away. “Um, yes?”
He lifted an eyebrow, a grin pulling at his mouth. “Run. I dare you.” His words, growled out in a playful voice, combined with the soft smile on his lips and the heat of his gaze, made me giggle.
Something in me lightened, and the worry I felt all the time faded into the background. I caught on to his teasing mood and dodged to the left as he reached out.
I stifled my squeal, trying to hurry past him. It didn’t work, and this time, he caught me. He slung me over his shoulder, gripping my ass. “I think, Tesoro, the bases are loaded. It’s time for the tiebreaker.”
“Put me down.”
“Not yet.” He strode down the hall, his footsteps sure and silent. For such a big man, he moved gracefully. In my room, he tossed me on the bed, staring down at me. I knew I was a mess. Covered in him. Yet he looked at me as if I was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
He also waited for me to make up my mind. If I said no, he would accept it. Of that, I had no doubt.
“We have to be quiet.”
“I can do that.” He lifted his eyebrow. “I can make sure you’re quiet too, baby. Don’t worry about that.”
I held open my arms.
Stefano tugged his shirt over his head, and I caught my breath. He had a well-muscled torso, defined pecs and abs. His jeans hung low on his hips, and his golden skin had a dusting of hair that led down to the sharp vee carved into his hips.
He was more magnificent than I dreamed.
“I like your tattoos.”
“I designed them all.”
“They have special meaning to you?”
“I’ll tell you all about them, but not now.” He quirked his eyebrow.
“Your shirt, Gabby. I want it off.”
I hesitated, then sat up and tugged it over my head. I wished I were wearing lingerie, sexy and lacy, instead of a serviceable plain white bra I could afford. I slid my finger under the strap, self-conscious. “It’s not very pretty,” I whispered.
“The woman wearing it is. What it’s concealing is.” His eyes gleamed in the dim light, and he dropped his voice. “Take it off, Gabby. Show me what I want to see.”
My fingers trembled and fumbled with the clasp, and I inhaled deeply before I let it fall from my shoulders to my lap. Stefano approached the end of the bed, placing one knee on the mattress, the edge sinking under his weight.
“Magnificent,” he growled, then lunged. In seconds, I was under him, his mouth hot and wet on my breasts. He alternated licking, stroking, and biting my aching nipples, using his hand on one while his mouth was busy on the other. He pressed me deep in the mattress, his skin hot on mine. I ran my fingers through his short, silky hair, whimpering at the way he was worshiping my breasts. I longed to feel all of him on me, wanting to taste his mouth, lick his skin, feel his cock in my hand and inside me. I had never wanted someone the way I wanted him.