He gave her a rueful smile. ‘No, tesore mio. But perhaps it would be a good idea if I did, for then I would not be so tempted to sleep with you.’
She licked her blood-red lips with a quick dart-like movement of her tongue. ‘You’re…’ She swallowed again. ‘You’re…tempted? Really?’
He stroked the undersides of her small wrists with the pads of his thumbs, watching as her whole body reacted. He felt her faint shiver, saw the way the grey pools of her eyes darkened, and the way her pulse leapt and fluttered beneath his touch. ‘I am sorely tempted, but I swore I would not touch you again,’ he said. ‘A promise is a promise, even if it was only to myself.’
There was a pregnant pause.
‘What if…?’ She moistened her mouth again before continuing, ‘What if I wanted you to sleep with me?’
Mario drew in a long breath, holding it for a few beats before releasing it, along with her wrists. He put some distance between them, dragging a hand through his hair, searching for patience, strength, resolve. ‘Sabrina…you don’t know what you are asking.’
‘I think I do,’ she said quietly.
He looked at her again, his heart feeling as if a clamp was pressing the sides together. It seemed strange to him how young she seemed now, when only weeks ago he had thought her so streetwise and worldly. How could he have been so blind? She was so innocent; she didn’t know what the hell she was getting in to by asking him to be her lover. She was vulnerable and sweet, and he would be a cad to have a short-term ‘affair’ with her. She wasn’t the affair type. ‘Sabrina…’ He finger-combed his hair again. ‘Cara, listen to me.’
Her limpid eyes began to glisten. ‘It’s all right,’ she said stiffly, turning her back to him as she moved to the other side of the room. ‘I understand, really I do. I’m not your type. You’ve made it clear right from the start.’
Mario swore in both English and Italian, a perverse part of him pleased at how she flinched as the words cut the air. ‘For God’s sake, Sabrina, you are still in my mind a virgin.’
‘I wasn’t aware it was something to be ashamed of.’
‘Of course it’s nothing to be ashamed of,’ he said. ‘You should be proud of it, especially in this day and age.’
She turned to look at him. ‘If you don’t mind, I think I will give dinner a miss. I’m not hungry.’
Mario swore again, this time under his breath. ‘Sulking is for small children, Sabrina.’
She put her chin up at him. ‘You think I’m in a sulk?’
‘I think you are young and vulnerable and in way over your head, tesore mio,’ he said, with a crooked smile to soften the words.
She set her mouth so tightly he could see brackets of strain around the soft lips he had kissed only minutes ago. “I guess I’ll see you in the morning,’ she said, her shoulders slumping as she made to move past.
Mario placed one of his hands on the cup of her shoulder, holding her in place. ‘Don’t run away, Sabrina,’ he said gently. ‘Stay with me. Talk to me.’
Her bottom lip trembled slightly and her white, even teeth sank down to steady it. Her eyes skittered away from his, her cheeks flushed with colour.
Mario cupped the nape of her neck with his palm, his fingers tangling in her silky hair, tying her to him. ‘Look at me, Sabrina,’ he commanded again, softly this time.
She raised her eyes to his, her tone short and self-deprecating. ‘I’m sorry for embarrassing you. But I guess you must be pretty used to women falling all over themselves to sleep with you.’
He brushed his thumb over the pouting protrusion of her bottom lip. ‘Firstly, I am not at all embarrassed, and secondly, I do not have as many women in my life as you might think. If I did everything the press said I did, I would not have any time for my work.’
Her eyes moved away from his again. ‘You say you don’t have a current mistress, but I’m guessing it won’t be long before you do.’
Mario studied her features for a long moment. She had lilac thumbprint-like shadows beneath her eyes, and her brow was networked with fine lines of uncertainty. He had become so used to a certain arrogant confidence in all his previous partners, he had not thought anything of it until now. Now all he wanted was the shy innocence of Sabrina. He ached for it—for her hesitant touch, for her sweet-but-feverish kisses and the feminine pulse of her body against his. He wanted to claim her as his, to tutor her in the wild, secret world of her sensuality, to fill her with his hardness, to spill himself as she convulsed around him. His body leapt at the thought, his blood rocketing through his veins, surging to his loins until he was throbbing with need.
He clenched his teeth, fighting the temptation, but it was impossible to ignore the magnetic pull of her body so close to his.
‘Is…is everything all right?’ she asked in a voice so soft he had to strain to hear it.
‘No,’ he said gruffly as he took her by the hips and pulled her up against him.
Her eyes flared as she felt him. ‘I—I thought you said—?’
‘Forget what I said,’ he growled as he bent his head to hers. ‘Forget the hell what I said.’
Sabrina stifled a gasp as his mouth seared hers, the hot urgency of it sweeping her up into a maelstrom of heady sensation. Desire licked along her veins like a river of fire, lightning-fast, lightning-hot and equally electrifying. His fingers dug into her hips, holding her tighter against his hot, hard need. Her body quivered at the intimate contact, the outline of his erection making her legs weaken.
His mouth continued its sensual assault, his tongue stroking and stabbing at hers simultaneously, drawing her into a whirlpool of wanting that was uncontrollable. Her tongue danced with his, darting and diving to evade, and then licking and stroking to cajole. He responded by kissing her harder and deeper, his lower body grinding against hers as the pressure built.
His hands moved from her hips to slide up her ribcage and possess her breasts, the warm cup of his palms making the pores of her flesh stand up in goose bumps of excitement. Her spine felt as if it had been injected with warm, smooth honey, her limbs equally malleable, as his mouth moved from hers to the scaffold of her collarbone. She shivered as his lips whispered over her sensitive skin, every nerve arching its back to feel more of his touch.
‘I told myself I wasn’t going to do this,’ he said. ‘I promised myself.’
Sabrina felt another shiver dance over her skin as his lips moved against her neck when he spoke. ‘It’s all right,’ she said on a breathless gasp. ‘I’m a big girl now.’
He brushed her mouth with a hard, possessive kiss, his dark eyes hooded and brooding. ‘I’m afraid I’ll hurt you again.’
Sabrina felt his erection thick and swollen against her, making her insides melt like candle wax. ‘You won’t hurt me,’ she whispered against his mouth. ‘I am sure you won’t.’
He kissed her again, deeply and lingeringly, exploring every contour of her mouth before he moved his lips to the breast he had deftly uncovered. His mouth closed over one puckered nipple, sucking on her hungrily, before he circled her with his tongue. Pleasure ricocheted through her like gunfire, piercing the sound barrier. Waves of feeling washed over her, tossing her about until she was clinging to him like a raft.
‘We need to go upstairs,’ he said, and lifted her off her feet.
‘Put me down,’ Sabrina protested. ‘I’m too heavy.’
‘You weigh next to nothing,’ he said, and carried her out of the room and up the sweeping staircase.
Sabrina linked her arms around his neck, her belly feeling as if a hundred tiny fists were trying to punch their way out. She breathed in his scent; the exotic spices of his aftershave mixed with the essence of his maleness made her nostrils flare in excitement. Nervousness and anticipation were jostling for position inside her, making her feel dizzy and light-headed at the thought of finally being possessed by him. Her body was preparing itself, the moist dew of desire already secretly anointing her, the deep throb of her inner core like a l
ow, deep drum-beat.
Mario shouldered open his bedroom-suite door, kicking it shut with his foot once they were inside. He let her slide down his body as he set her down, his eyes searing hers with passionate promise. ‘Are you sure this is what you want?’ he asked. ‘It’s not too late to change your mind.’
Sabrina snatched in a scratchy breath. ‘I want you, Mario. I want you to make love to me.’
His gaze darkened to a black, bottomless pool of desire. ‘I wanted you the moment I met you,’ he said as he walked her backwards to the bed, slowly, inexorably.
‘I—I know,’ she said shakily, her thighs bumping against his.
He ran his hands down her arms, entrapping her wrists as her knees came up against the mattress. There was a primitive element to his hold, a heated charge of energy she could feel passing from his body to hers. His body simmered with it; hers felt like it was boiling.
He slowly undressed her, kissing her flesh as it was revealed to him until she was standing in just her bra and knickers, her skin tingling wherever his lips had burned and branded her as his. ‘Now you get to undress me,’ he said with a smouldering look that lifted every hair on her scalp.
Sabrina’s fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, but somehow she got them undone. She tugged it out of his trousers and slid it off his broad shoulders, pausing to kiss his bronzed flesh, tasting the saltiness of him, relishing in the feel of his sculptured muscles under the soft press of her fingertips. Her lips brushed against his hard, flat nipples, her tongue sweeping and curling over him, her belly turning over in excitement when he groaned in pleasure.
Her fingers came to the waistband of his trousers. She glanced up at him shyly, wondering if she had the courage to follow through. His eyes glittered darkly with expectation, and she took a shallow breath and unhooked his belt from its buckle, slowly pulling it through until it dropped to the floor with a serpent-like slither.
‘You are in control, Sabrina,’ Mario said, although it sounded rough and uneven. ‘Any time you want to stop, you stop.’
Sabrina traced the pathway of masculine hair from his belly button to his waistband with her fingers, delighting in the taut flatness of his abdomen, the ridged muscles contracting even more at her touch. ‘I don’t want to stop,’ she said lightly, skating her fingertips over the tenting of his trousers.
She heard him suck in a harsh breath, his body whipcord-tight as she continued stroking him, exploring the length and breadth of him through the barrier of his clothes.
One of his hands came over hers, holding her against him as he fought for control. ‘Give me a moment,’ he bit out.
Sabrina looked up at him in alarm. ‘Am I doing something wrong?’
‘No, cara,’ he said, shuddering as her fingers moved against him. ‘I am getting a little ahead of myself, that is all.’
Her hand stilled but she could still feel him throbbing against her palm. He was so magnificently male, so magnificently aroused. She moved her fingers experimentally, feeling him, shaping him, and then, with a swiftly indrawn breath for courage, she unzipped him.
He stepped out of his trousers, his black underwear the only remaining barrier. Sabrina’s fingers danced over him, and then with increasing boldness she peeled back the stretchy black fabric and exposed the proud length of him.
She saw the muscles of his abdomen clench in preparation for her first skin-on-skin touch, the pearl-like bead of moisture at his blunt tip making her stomach free-fall.
She ran her fingertip down him from shaft to tip, amazed at how silky his taut skin felt. He was satin-covered steel, sexual energy still leashed but visibly straining. She felt the latent power of him against her curling fingers; she felt too the deep all-over shudder he gave as her hand finally enclosed him.
‘My turn, I think,’ he said, and captured her hand.
The look in his eyes made her stomach drop another fifty floors. He turned her hand over and kissed the middle of her palm, his tongue circling it, teasing the sensitive nerves, until they were screaming for mercy beneath her skin.
His other hand moved to the small of her back, sliding upwards until he came to the clasp of her bra. She pulled in an uneven breath as it fell to the floor with a lacy silence.
His eyes consumed her greedily, taking in her small-but-neat, creamy-white form, the rosy-red nipples already pert and aching for his lips and tongue. He bent his head and suckled on her, taking his time over each breast, torturing her with his caresses until she was clutching at his shoulders, panting breathlessly.
‘You are so dainty and yet so perfect,’ he said against the satin smoothness of her right breast, his lips making the tender flesh shiver in reaction.
Sabrina couldn’t speak when his mouth closed over her nipple again. She felt the rough glide of his tongue over her, the moist heat of his mouth making her whimper in pleasure.
His hands settled on her hips, holding her against his arousal with just the fragile cobweb of her lacy knickers between his body and hers. He nudged against her experimentally, his eyes smoky as they held hers. ‘It is still not too late to stop,’ he said. ‘You are still in control, Sabrina. Always remember that—you are the one in control.’
Sabrina felt her heart give an almighty squeeze that was almost painful. He was being so tender and considerate; how could she not love him? She wanted to tell him, but held back just in time. He had not given any indication of feeling anything but lust for her. Why spoil the moment with confessions of a love that had no future? She was only in his life because of his guardianship of Molly. His physical desire for her was a bonus, a temporary diversion, until he moved on to his next mistress.
His reputation said it all. Yes, the papers whipped it up a bit, but even so it was obvious he was a no-strings-sex guy. He liked to play and to play hard. Sabrina was a novelty to him, a naïve innocent who made a stark change from the worldly, streetwise women he normally bedded. But it wouldn’t matter how experienced she became; Sabrina knew Mario was the only man who could make her feel the way she was currently feeling. No one else had kissed her until she was senseless. No one else had made her ache with a need so strong she felt as if her breathing was going to stop altogether unless he assuaged it.
‘Touch me, Mario,’ she whispered as she leant into his hardness.
He moved his hand down to cup her through the lace, her intimate dampness making his pupils dilate. ‘You are beautiful,’ he said, low and deep.
With him touching her like that, Sabrina felt beautiful. She felt powerful, too, full of feminine power to attract a mate. She moved against his hand, her body thrilling at the contact, her feminine flesh quivering. His fingers moved aside the lace of her knickers to trace her moist cleft, gently separating her before he slowly inserted one finger. She gasped at the sensation of feeling him move inside her, exploring her tenderly, preparing her for the ultimate possession of his body.
After a moment he guided her down onto the bed. ‘Relax, cara,’ he said as he came down beside her, his long legs entwining with hers. ‘Don’t tense up on me.’
Sabrina tried to loosen up, but every nerve in her body seemed to be switched to hyper-vigilance mode. She wanted him so badly she felt twitchy and restless, feverish with excitement and escalating need. She arched her spine as he peeled away her underwear, her breathing coming in ever-shortening intervals as his hand came back to cup her.
‘You are so very tempting.’
Sabrina shivered as his fingers explored her again, stretching her to accommodate him. Her muscles fought him at first, but he kissed her to distract her, and after a moment he went deeper.
It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted him, deep and hot and hard, inside her.
She pulled his hand away and nestled closer, touching him, squeezing her fingers around his length. He bit back a groan and lay back, propped up on his elbows while she caressed him, his laboured breathing making his chest rise and fall like a pair of bellows. ‘I am going to co
me if you don’t stop that,’ he said through tightly clenched teeth.
‘I would like to see you,’ Sabrina said, surprising herself at her boldness.
‘Not this time,’ he said, and flipped her on to her back. ‘We’ll save that for another time. This time it is all about you.’
Sabrina watched as he opened the bedside-table drawer to retrieve a condom. Again she had to push aside the thought of how many other women had lain on this bed with him; this was not the time to reflect on his past. This was her time with him, a time to enjoy the pleasure of her body under the tutelage of his. And her body was enjoying it. It was pulsing with longing, quaking all over with it, as she watched him roll the condom over his erection.
He moved over her to kiss her mouth lingeringly, teasing her with his tongue, the stab and thrusting action mimicking the intimate union that was to come.
Sabrina made room for him between her legs, her heart giving a little jump of exhilaration as he brushed her moist entrance.
‘Not so fast, cara,’ he chided her gently as he pulled back. ‘There are things I have to do first.’
A small frown tugged at her brow. ‘What things?’
He gave her a smouldering look. ‘These things,’ he said, and kissed his way from her breasts over her quivering belly until he got to the dark, neatly trimmed curls that shielded the secret heart of her.
Sabrina stopped breathing when his mouth separated her, his tongue sending electric pulses of sensations to her curling toes and back. Her back lifted off the bed as he intensified the movement of his caressing tongue, all the delicious feelings seeming to gather at one tight point, hovering there, waiting for the final moment to explode.
‘Go with it, cara,’ he coaxed her gently. ‘Don’t fight it. Let go.’
She couldn’t believe her body could contain so much feeling as the first waves rolled over her, lifting her up higher and higher, until she was spinning in a vortex of sensation. Spasm after spasm rocketed through her, making her aware of nothing but her body and how Mario had made it feel. Her limbs felt deliciously loose, the lassitude of physical release flowing through her like a warm tide.
Bound By The Marcolini Diamonds (The Marcolini Men Book 2) Page 13