The Italian

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The Italian Page 13

by Beverly Preston


  All of him.

  And she’d do anything to have him . . . including let go.

  “I think my sister will understand.”

  “Bella?” The tenderness in his voice drew her attention. “I didn’t bring you here to persuade you to go to bed with me. I’ve got no problem waiting. I just thought we should discuss a few things.”

  “You don’t need to convince me, Antonio. I’ve made up my mind.”

  “You’ll stay?”

  Hope nodded three times in quick succession. “But I don’t feel like talking.”

  A hint of disappointment furrowed his brow, but quickly dissolved into a soft smile. He eased in closer, his mouth a mere inch from hers. “Then I guess the conversation can wait.”

  “Yes, wait,” she agreed breathily.

  Starting at the edge of her mouth, his lips drifted from one side to the other, brushing sweet kisses to her eyelids, nose, and cheeks. The placement of each tender graze was deliberate and unrushed. Shock moved through her, spurring her heart into fast, frantic rhythm, waiting for him to deepen the kiss.

  The first hungry swipe of his tongue took her breath away. The second ignited a bone-melting fire that seeped through her veins like molten lava. Needing more, Hope stretched taller, devouring his mouth with greedy kisses, savoring the taste of wine lingering on his breath.

  Hope became oddly aware of the pounding of her heartbeat as his lips and teeth traced along her collarbone, laying down a trail of whispery nips and kisses.

  Clasping his fingers to the sides of her face, he brushed his nose to hers. Their eyes locked. “We should eat.”

  Blush tinged her cheeks. “Define eat.”

  Any remaining illusion of self-control diminished beneath a frenzy of sensual kisses. A long, intense dance of erotic kisses rocked her to the core. Her arms curled around his neck, taking in each intimate act he offered, giving back vulnerable pieces of her heart in return.

  His hands stole to the hem of her shirt, breaking their kiss as he jerked it over her head. The coolness of the air brought relief to her heated skin. Pushing the thin strap of her bra over the tip of her shoulder, his fingers slipped inside the white lace, cupping the pale swollen mound.

  “Umm, yes,” she whimpered.

  Lowering his head, Antonio clamped his mouth over the tight bud, drawing the dark pink flesh into the heat of his mouth, sucking and licking. Hope’s lips parted, hissing in delight as her head dropped back, slowly lolling from side to side. Antonio moved to the other breast, showering it with equal affection. Each sweet succulent draw reverberated all the way to her pelvis, tugging as if they were connected by an invisible thread. Taking the damp nipple firmly between his thumb and finger, Antonio gently twisted, delivering a shot of unbearable ecstasy. The sensation vexingly good.

  “Yes. Oh . . . my God, yes.” A soft pleading moan crooned through the quiet kitchen.

  Needing to feel the heat of his skin, Hope groped at his strong, masculine frame. Her fingers trembled working the buttons of his shirt and below, yanking at the waistband of his black pants. Antonio took her mouth again, absorbing the sounds of pleasure rising from her throat.

  “I need you. I need you now. Antonio . . . now, please,” she croaked, her voice hoarse from panting.

  Antonio dropped to his knees. Leaning back on his haunches, he shimmied her black leggings past her thighs. Hope stepped out of each opening, removing one shoe at a time, before slipping back into her four-inch heels. His hands followed along the curves of her body, inquisitively rubbing a circle around the small intrusion protruding from her belly.

  Coupled with feelings of humiliation and loss of identity, emotions stung the back of her eyes. Her heartbeat worked in frantic beats. Hope could barely concede to the changes in her body, let alone accept the idea of Antonio inspecting her naked physique. Her fingers tangled helplessly in the collar of his shirt, demanding his attention. “Antonio?”

  Glancing upward, his grey eyes turned smoky with desire. “Si?”

  “Can we please—” her voice broke “—not acknowledge the elephant in the room? I know I look . . . different, but can you please try to ignore it.”

  Apprehension gathered in his eyes, gradually changing the shades of his expression from lust to concern. “Bella . . .”

  “I don’t want to discuss it. I’m just asking you to look past it.” He remained silent, shock plastered across his face as her nerves, raw and vulnerable, imploded. “I’m sure this is supposed to be some sort of wonderful, magical, serene chapter of my life that I’m supposed to cherish, but that’s so not happening for me right now. I know I’m not as sexy . . .”

  “Bella, stop.”

  “There’s nothing attractive about this. I mean . . . look at me.”

  Rising to his feet, Antonio gathered her hands in his, bringing them to his lips. Without saying a word, he led her through the dimly lit living room to his bedroom.

  “I know I’m supposed to embrace my big boobs and expanding belly,” she continued to vent, “but all I feel like is a human-growth machine. I really can’t believe you still want to have sex with me. I mean seriously . . .”

  Flipping on the lights with one hand, he snatched her around the waist with the other. His eyes pulled wide, a clear request for her to zip her lips. “Smettere di dire sciocchezze.”

  Hope attempted to wriggle free of his embrace, but he tangled a hand through her hair at the base of her skull and pressed his lips to hers, blindly guiding her backward into the solitude of the bedroom. She mumbled beneath his lips, “I don’t know what that means. What did you just say?”

  “It means stop talking such nonsense.”

  Hands on her shoulders, he spun her to face a full-length mirror hanging on the wall outside his closet. Hope stood fully exposed beneath the dimmed overhead lighting in her white lace bra and panties, taking in their reflection. Standing behind her, Antonio swept the hair from her shoulder, placing a slow, burning kiss to the slope of her neck.

  “Do you want to know what I see?”

  Any response remained lodged in her throat.

  “You’ve always been the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known, but looking at you now . . .” Their gazes fixed in the mirror. Seconds passed. The muscles near his eyes relaxed into an endearing smile. “You’ve never been more beautiful than you are right now. Bella, you steal my breath away.”

  The desire in his tone set off a round of butterflies swirling in the pit of her stomach. Both watched as his hands eased over the delicate dips and valleys of her shape, resting on the bump below her navel. Each tender touch slowly calmed the thrashing of her heart, erasing the fear that clouded her mind.

  “Are you calling me a thief?” Sweet teasing colored her voice.

  “Si’. You’ve stolen my heart.”

  The scrape of his shadowed face sent a shiver down her spine. His tongue marked a spot on her neck before gently sinking his teeth into the pale flesh, claiming her in the moment.

  With one easy pinch of his fingers, her bra vanished, discarded to the corner of the room atop a dresser. Lifting an arm, she curled it around his neck, twisting to bury her face in the crook of his neck. Swamped with need, her hips tilted upward in a mute rhythmic pleading, searching for his fingertips resting on her lower abdomen.

  His hand coasted downward, skimming over the thin lace of her panties, cupping her pussy.

  Hope moaned aloud. “Mmmm, yes.”

  The stability of his form at her back vanished, causing her to wobble. In one swift move he lifted her into his arms, settling her onto the king-size bed with exquisite gentleness. She remained quiet, her focus locked on the intensity consuming the features of his face as he removed her shoes one at a time, planting each foot flat on the bed.

  The throbbing ache between her thighs began building in intensity, rolling through her in rushes of hot sensations. She needed him to touch her. She needed his mouth, his fingers, his cock, anything to bring relief. Knees bent, she eleva
ted her bum and hooked her thumbs through the sides of her panties.

  “No,” he insisted, eyes dark and brooding. Circling his fingers around her wrists, he pressed them flat to the bed.

  “But, I need . . .”

  “I know exactly what you need and tonight . . . I’m in charge. Lay back. All you have to do is relax and let me pleasure you—” He gripped her legs and spread them wide, taking a tender bite of her inner thigh. “—over and over again.”

  His mouth, teeth, and tongue wandered from thigh to thigh, delivering electrifying nibbles and nips to the trembling flesh, working his way to the fire burning at the apex of her thighs.

  “Antonio,” she begged, her voice nearly inaudible.

  Pressing his open mouth to the white lace, he breathed, ripping a hoarse cry of pleasure from her throat. She began to squirm, but Antonio increased his grip, stilling her movement. Her heart slammed violently in her chest. Throwing her hands above her head, she tangled her fingers in the smoky-grey comforter. Waiting.

  The imprint of his fingertips inched closer to the edge of her panties. Anticipation, full and ripe, quaked through her limbs. Blood rushed through her ears, muting the praises he offered in Italian. Antonio slipped his thumb between the lace and skin, hooking the small triangle of material, moving it out of his way. Hope writhed helplessly as she felt his tongue lick into her, opening her flesh with slow broad licks.

  The sinuous glide of his tongue delivered long luscious kisses, marauding slowly, followed by quick flicking licks using the tip of his tongue for precision stimulation. Each succulent impact, stealing her breath, branding her, until she begged for more.

  “Oh, God, Antonio, please, yes, touch me,” she pleaded in a voice unlike her own, full of desperation and need.

  Slowly, he removed her panties, working them down her legs. He slipped two fingers inside, massaging her clit with his thumb, licking into the softness. Her muscles contracted, tightening around the thrust of his fingers, taking him in, as he stroked the maddening spot inside. She started to tip, her back arched, as Antonio thrust deeper and rougher, keeping in sync with his tongue. Long shivers gathered force, coiling in her core before shooting through her limbs. Pressing her head into the mattress, her toes curled, every part of her body quaked, drenching his greedy mouth with sweet reward.

  Hope freed the bedding from her fisted grip, laying a palm to her chest, testing the pounding of her heart. Antonio rose to his feet and stripped off his clothes. He looked magnificently gorgeous standing before her at the edge of the bed, lean muscles, tan skin, and his long stiff cock jutting outward from a dusting of trimmed black hair.

  Lowering over her, his mouth strayed from one breast to the other. She could feel the curve of his smile as he nuzzled against her neck. Antonio whispered in her ear, “Need a nap?”

  Her head shook back and forth vehemently. “I need you.”

  Hope reached over his shoulders, clutching to the hard, flexing muscles flanking his spine. Tilting her hips, she nudged, gliding along the silky wet hard length of him again and again, soundlessly pleading for more.

  She heard him murmur, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Won’t,” she hissed.

  Using the palm of his hand, he gently brushed the hair from her face. His eyes, silvery grey and heavy with lust, glazed over as he entered her in slow measured inches. Her body reacted, tightening around him, molding to the thick intrusion. Unable to speak, her hips bucked, needing more of him inside. Their eyes locked as he went deeper and held. Their connection seemed different; the intensity was nothing short of hypnotizing.

  Covering her mouth with his, Antonio delivered a white-hot, enticing kiss that made her brain unravel. With each solid thrust, Hope began to let go, giving herself to him, mind, body, and soul. The pace of steady friction, hot and slick, felt maddeningly delicious. Rushes of pleasure started to claim her body, each one more intense than the last. Hope latched onto his forearms straddling her head and buried her nails into the skin as he thrust deeper. Spurred on by the moans rising from her throat, he started to lose himself in the moment, yet remained in total control, taking his time, the sensual act more intimate than ever before. Her cries carried through the room.

  Oh yes.

  So close, yes.

  Antonio, I’m going to . . .

  She lifted her hips to greet him, but he pushed her flat to the bed, answering her cries with heavier drives. Volatile tremors ricocheted through her body, building until her orgasm crashed into her with an explosive high. Eyes wide, tiny fragments of lights shattered as she came and came and came, drenching him with wetness.

  Rising to his palms, he pumped, rooting himself deeper inside. Reaching for his firm hips, she urged him on, her muscles clenched around him drawing out his release.

  “Cazzo, Oh, Dio. Sto andando a cum.” Throwing his head back, heat spilled inside her. His eyes, wide and wild, flooded with disbelief, as if he’d never felt anything so powerful. He collapsed over her, shaking and jerking, burying his face in the curve of her neck. Sweet echoes of pleasure vibrated across her shoulder.

  The silence of the room surrounded them, leaving nothing but their labored breathing. Moving to an elbow, he gazed down at her, lazily sweeping the damp strands of her hair from her face. A sexy smile crossed his lips. “You’ve never come like that.”

  It was true. She felt as if she’d been broken down to her barest form, rearranged, and aligned back into the perfect form.

  “I don’t think you have either.” Her chest heaved, shaking as she laughed. Tugging her bottom lip between her teeth, she attempted to hide the small bashful grin seeping into her cheeks. “We’ve never not used a condom, maybe that’s it. To be honest—”

  He interrupted, “That’s how I’d prefer to hear it.”

  “That’s the first time I’ve ever had sex without a condom.”

  His eyes twinkled mischievously. “For me too.”

  “Ever?”

  “Yes.” His eyes glazed over and she felt an internal tremor ripple through his body. His cock still wedged inside her, thickened. He covered her mouth with his, tugging her bottom lip into his mouth before releasing it with a pop. “Whatever it is, we’re doing it again.”

  Slowly, he pulled out, drawing a whimper of complaint from her throat. Antonio scrambled off the bed, taking her by the hand, guiding them into the stark white bathroom and straight for the shower.

  Antonio opened the glass door and adjusted the knob. Feeling a little spent and sedated, she clung to his back waiting for the water to heat. The tenseness of his muscles faded beneath her touch. When clouds of steam rose above the glass door, he guided her inside. His arms circled around her and she sagged against his solid frame, letting the water cascade over their bodies in ribbons.

  “My sweet bella, you’re exhausted.”

  Hope considered rebutting the claim, but nodded against his shoulder. “A little.”

  Gathering her thick mane into his hands, he washed and conditioned her hair. His strong hands moved over her as she breathed in the steam-laden air, filling her lungs with moisture. She washed his body, languorously slipping her hands along his drum-tight abs and chest, relishing in the masculine features of his body.

  They’d bathed together a dozen times before, but the reality of being in his shower, in his bed, in his home, with no expiration date of time spent together felt incredibly freeing. There was no rush or countdown of days. Yet, as his hand sluiced over her midriff, a faint internal alarm sounded deep in the back of her mind because she knew it was still only temporary. Nothing that feels this good can last forever.

  Sentiment, unfamiliar and unwelcome, stung her eyes.

  All movement stopped, the motion of her hands lost to her thoughts.

  Sensing her distraction, Antonio fastened his mouth to hers, breaking the thoughts of doubt with wet, slippery, carnal kisses. Hope draped her arms around his neck, sagging against the strong terrain of his body. She didn’t want to f
eel anything; she didn’t want to think about the future, she just wanted to be in the moment.

  Pulling back, Antonio stared at her through the veil of mist, reading every detail of her face. He cupped her jaw in his hands, tracing her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. His dark hair, turned inky black from the water, fell in chucks across his forehead.

  “Bella,” he pressed a kiss to her sodden hair. “Let’s eat and then you’re going to get some sleep.”

  Holding back her frayed emotions, she nodded.

  An hour later, Hope sat cross-legged in the center of his bed, happy and content, wrapped in silky sheets, indulging in a plate of delicious pasta. Antonio lay stretched out beside her propped on an elbow. She twirled the last bit of noodles on her fork and extended it toward his mouth, offering the last few bites. His tongue worked to grab the stray pasta noodle dangling from her fork, sending an aftershock to her core.

  “You’re blushing,” he beamed.

  “I am not.” Hope attempted to sound convincing, but the lie only deepened the heat on her cheeks.

  “You truly are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known,” he repeated for the third time.

  She raised her brows, casting him a playful look of doubt.

  “Why do you laugh at me when I say such lovely things to you?”

  “Because you’re good with words and women. You’re smooth and charming and Italian! Seduction makes up at least half of your DNA.”

  He made a face, pretending to be appalled.

  “I’m already in your bed, Antonio, and you know I adore you. You don’t have to work that hard.”

  A bark of rough laughter muffled in the fluffy comforter as he rolled to his stomach, burying his face in her lap, taking a bite of her thigh. Hope giggled at his playfulness. Setting the plate aside, she dragged her fingers through his thick dark hair.

  Rolling to his back, a haughty smile deepened the lines near his mouth. His head lay in the pocket of her crossed legs, practically nestling the bump of her belly. Reaching upward, he looped a strand of tousled long hair around a finger. His eyes turned soft and serious.

 

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