* * *
Angelo deposited Peyton in the middle of the bed as his gaze raked over her naked body. Simply put, she was beautiful. He’d seen her in next to nothing before. One day when she, Mac and Sam had been out by his parents’ pool, she’d been wearing a skimpy bikini. He’d taken it all in and had imagined those parts of her body the bikini had covered. Now he was seeing everything.
She had pushed him over the limit. This was not how he’d imagined things would go in his quest to make her his. He had wanted to take his time. Was there no justice in the world with a woman like her? The woman was temptation. Had he really thought a relationship with her wouldn’t be complicated?
“Are you going to just stand there and stare at me or are you going to take care of business?”
Oh, he planned to take care of business, all right. But first he needed to make sure they understood each other—completely. He ran his gaze over her again, tried not to concentrate on the dark curls at the juncture of her thighs. But damn if that part of her wasn’t calling out to him—big-time—and his manhood was throbbing mercilessly in response.
Placing a knee on the bed, he reached out and angled her face in his hands to fully see her in the soft light from the bedside lamp. He wanted her to see him. He wanted to make sure she understood. “Let’s get something straight. If I make love to you, I claim you. Do you understand that, Peyton?”
He could tell from the look in her eyes that she really didn’t understand. She had no way of knowing the extent of what he really meant. But eventually she would. Making love to her meant she would become his in a way she never thought possible. Not just now, but even after they parted. No matter where she was—night or day, seven days of the week—once he made her his, that was it. She would be his forever.
She shrugged. “Yes, I guess so.”
He shook his head. “There can’t be any guessing about it. You either understand or you don’t.”
She threw her head back and narrowed her gaze at him. “Fine, I understand.” She raked her gaze up and down him, noticed his erection had enlarged even more. “Boy, you’re big. Come on. Let me test the waters.”
Oh, he planned on letting her do more than just test the waters. She was about to take the full plunge. “As long as we understand each other,” he said.
“All right already. I said I did, didn’t I? Now let’s get it on.”
If he didn’t want her so damn much, if he didn’t crave her with every fiber of his being, he would’ve pulled her into his arms and held her, sang “Happy Birthday” to her and then rocked her to sleep and nothing more. But now the die had been cast. She’d asked, and he intended to give her whatever she wanted. Heaven help him, but at the moment the only thing he could think about doing was burying himself between those luscious thighs of hers.
He stepped back from the bed, kicked off his shoes, removed his socks and began unbuttoning his shirt. She watched every move he made. That was fine with him. He wanted her to see it all because just like he claimed her, he wanted her to claim him as well.
Angelo heard her sharp intake of breath when he eased his jeans and boxers down his legs and stepped out of them and then stood before her, naked and fully erect. Never had any woman aroused him so profoundly. His pulse surged in response to her reaction at seeing him without any clothes. He believed in staying physically fit and regularly worked out at one of the exclusive sports clubs in Manhattan. It seemed his hard work was paying off.
He moved toward the bed and took note of the heated look in Peyton’s eyes. She wanted him. That much was pretty damn clear. He wished he could say she wanted him for all the reasons he wanted her, but he couldn’t be sure. He had to change his strategy and would have to try a new approach, but it was okay as long as the end result was the same.
He moved toward the bed, trying to maintain control when all he wanted to do was rip the bedsheets off to get to Peyton. Where was patience when you needed it? Once his knee touched the mattress, Peyton leaned forward on her haunches to meet him, making no attempt to hide the fact that she wanted him. He wanted her, too, and was certain the room was so steamy that the gentle breeze off the patio couldn’t cool them down. His nostrils flared when he picked up her scent and desire rushed through every part of his body. He reminded himself to take things slow, but doing so proved to be extremely hard.
“Do you have any idea how much I want you?” he murmured, his words a warm breeze across her lips. He watched as her full lips parted in a way that sent a sensuous spike up his leg and straight to the head of his erection.
“No. Show me.”
Oh, he could do better that that. He reached out and took her mouth in a long, druggish kiss.
* * *
Be careful what you ask for…
Peyton released a gasp the moment Angelo’s tongue invaded her mouth, claiming everything it touched, tasted and devoured. He had kissed her twice before, but never like this—never this boldly, possessively. It was as if he’d found a new frontier, and he intended to conquer it on his own.
She felt the warmth from his hand spread across her waistline, while the other hand moved slowly toward her breasts. How did he know her nipples were aching, throbbing for his touch? At that moment he did something with his tongue to reclaim her attention. Rapid-fire heat swept through her. Where had he learned to kiss like this—using some sort of whirling technique that sent fire to her lower extremities? If he could work his tongue like this in her mouth, she didn’t want to think what he could do with it down below. The thought made her womanhood throb in anticipation. Heaven help her.
He released her mouth and before disappointment could overtake her senses, his lips latched onto a nipple and she nearly arched her body off the bed. “Calm down, baby,” he whispered from the side of his mouth. “I just want to cop a taste.”
How did she know he intended to do more than that? The pressure of his mouth caused her womanhood to tighten with each deep-throated suckle. He used his tongue to graze kisses lightly across the tips of her hardened nipples, making her body shiver.
“Angelo,” she groaned in sensual pleasure.
Instead of answering, he moved to the other nipple, closed his mouth over it and tormented it the same way. She knew the moment his free hand began traveling down her body, over her stomach, past her waist. And when he got to the pubic curls below, she felt his hand delve inside, clutching him at the exact moment he inched a finger inside of her.
She moaned when he touched her clit, and then he begin fingering her, pushing her over the edge, bringing her back and then pushing her over the edge again. This was more pleasure than she could have ever imagined. Her muscles clenched his finger, and she panted long, deep breaths. The need he was building inside of her was almost killing her, working her into a sexual frenzy.
He released her nipples and began using his tongue to lap his way down her torso. “What are you doing to me?” she asked in a tortured moan.
He stopped for a second, lifted his head and met her gaze. “Claiming you.”
He nibbled around her belly button then traced a ring around the center with his tongue. He pulled back, sat on his knees and lifted her legs up over his shoulders. And then he lowered his mouth to her, going straight for the opening of her womanhood.
He used his tongue in ways she couldn’t have imagined, couldn’t have begun to anticipate. Unbridled sexual sensations tore through her as she bolted upright in acute pleasure, and murmured his name. When his tongue did that wiggly, figure-eight movement again, she couldn’t help but scream.
“Angelo!”
She screamed his name not once, but twice. She couldn’t pull back even if she wanted to. His mouth was locked on to her, and he used his tongue as a weapon of mass seduction. She cried out in sexual ecstasy, turning her hips as if to escape his mouth, and then thrusting them forward. This
was too much—more than she’d asked for—a lot more than she had expected. His mouth was driving her mad with need and desire.
A shudder passed through her, and she moaned his name just seconds before her body erupted in one incredible explosion. Angelo held onto her hips tightly, keeping his tongue planted deep inside of her, refusing to let her go. He kept lapping up the taste of her as if he were a starving man. It was only when the last shudder had passed through Peyton’s body that he pulled his mouth away and lowered her legs from his shoulders.
“Condoms are in my wallet.”
The need to be taken by him had Peyton’s senses reeling. Desire was burning her skin. “Okay, but I’m on the pill if you prefer going that route. I’m safe,” she said, easing on her back, barely having the strength to do so.
“I’ll take that route. And I’m safe, too.”
She knew from Sam that Angelo always practiced safe sex, so she believed him. She extended her arms to him as he eased into her embrace and wedged himself between her open legs. He leaned down and kissed her, taking her mouth with the same intensity he had earlier. She moaned when she felt him, the hardness of his erection trying to slide into her. The head of his erection was slick and massive and she couldn’t help wondering how on earth she was supposed to take it in.
She shifted her hips as he gazed down at her. “You’re small.”
She shook her head. “No, you’re just big, but I can handle it.”
He drew in a deep breath. “You sure?”
She wasn’t sure but that didn’t much matter. She wanted him and somehow her body would adjust. It had to. “Yes, I’m sure.”
Taking her at her word, he held her hips and before she could blink he had thrust inside of her. Fire rushed through her veins the moment he did so. She remembered watching him undress and seeing the thatch of dark hair that bedded his groin and knowing that thatch was pressed against her and his entire manhood was embedded deep inside her sent shivers reverberating through her.
He glanced down at her. “You okay?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Now we’re going to make love,” he whispered.
He slanted his mouth across hers the exact moment the lower part of his body began thrusting deeply in and out of her. His tongue kept time with the rhythm of his body’s thrusts. And each time the hard length of him slid in and out of her, all she could do was moan in pleasure.
He released her mouth just long enough to ask, “You like that?”
Unable to speak, she could only nod. Yes, she liked it. She loved it. Her hands went to his shoulders, clutched him and held on tight as he rode her hard. She was grateful the mattress had a good spring to it, because they were definitely giving it a hell of a workout.
“Come now,” he whispered hoarsely against her lips. Her body obeyed his command, and she was caught in the throes of one hell of an orgasm—the magnitude of which she’d never experienced before. It was as if her entire body became fragmented into a million little pieces.
“Angelo!”
“Happy birthday, Peyton,” he said as he continued to ride her. She knew at that moment it was midnight and he was giving her just what she wanted on her birthday, the big O. His timing was perfect. It was one hell of a way to celebrate turning thirty. She could feel herself letting go, and she cried out his name when the surge of sensuality toppled her into sweet oblivion.
Still Angelo kept riding her—straight into a second orgasm. She’d never had two orgasms back-to-back. Now on her birthday, in this bed inside the lighthouse at Dunwoody Cove, he was giving her the orgasm of a lifetime and plunging her body into mindless ecstasy.
When she thought she’d reached her sexual peak, he called out her name as his body jerked and bucked. She felt a stream of hot release shoot off inside of her, coating everywhere inside her, instinctively spewing straight toward her womb. Her pelvis responded as pleasure ripped through her body.
She had turned thirty in the throes of what had to be the biggest, most intense orgasm any woman could ever imagine. Even the aftershocks had her moaning and groaning as her body continued to quake and quiver as every muscle in her body felt electrified—reborn.
“Happy birthday,” he whispered again before lifting his body off hers. He pulled her into his arms, cradled her close to his body. Completely exhausted and feeling unadulterated pleasure, Peyton closed her eyes as sleep overtook her.
Chapter 12
Angelo awoke to the scent of a woman and couldn’t help the smile that curved his lips when he saw that Peyton was still asleep in his arms. Had they slept like this through the night in this same position with her legs entwined in his? Her buttocks were pressed against his manhood, which was getting more aroused and rigid with every breath he took.
The primal instinct in him wanted to beat his chest after having claimed the woman he wanted. But he had a feeling that one night of lovemaking with Peyton didn’t mean any guarantees, and it was way too early to pop the champagne. There was a chance that when she awoke, she wouldn’t remember anything about last night. She might even accuse him of taking advantage of her in a weakened state. She probably wouldn’t believe him if he told her that she had been the sexual aggressor and the first one to strip her clothes off to entice him.
Regardless, if he had to do it all over again he would. And he was looking forward to doing so again. Never in all his thirty-four years had he felt so connected to a woman, so much so that her orgasm had triggered his own. He had felt the explosion that tore into her body as if it had ripped through his own. And moments later, it had.
Everything about last night had been perfect and so damn erotic—from the sound of flesh slapping against flesh, to their moans and screams and the scent of sex that had permeated the air around them. Her birthday had definitely been a night to remember. He knew it was one he would never forget.
“I’m hungry.”
He went still. She’d spoken? He could have sworn she was still asleep. “Excuse me?”
She eased onto her side in a way that still kept their legs entwined. “No, I won’t excuse you. After last night I’d think you’d want to feed me.”
So she had remembered. In fact, she didn’t seem at all bothered by waking up having shared a bed with him. “What would you like?”
“Um, hot pancakes with maple syrup and sausage links are probably out of the question, so I’ll settle for anything you can get.”
“All right. Now can I ask you something?”
She smiled sweetly at him. “As long as it’s not too personal.”
He had news for her. What he was going to ask was probably as personal as it gets. “Do you remember us making love?”
She gave him a look. “I said I was hungry, Angelo, not brain-dead. Of course I remember. If there was any doubt in my mind, my aching muscles are more than a reminder.”
He studied her for a moment, thinking her just-woken-up look was cute, sexy and too much of a turn-on at eight o’clock in the morning. “And you have no regrets?”
“Am I supposed to?”
“I hope not.”
“Then don’t worry because I don’t. What woman would after a night like last night?”
He smiled and felt his chest expand. He was certain his head swelled a few inches. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Those were the best wine coolers I’ve ever had.”
His smile fell and his chest and head deflated. “Wine coolers?” It was then that he saw the smirk on her lips. “It wasn’t the wine coolers and you know it, Peyton.”
She deliberately snuggled closer to him and held his gaze. “Then tell me, Attorney Di Meglio, exactly what was it? What on earth would have me screaming my lungs off like a madwoman if it wasn’t the wine coolers?”
He shifted positions to ease his body over hers, his legs part
ing hers. He stared down at her and smiled. “Instead of answering let me give you a demonstration.”
* * *
Peyton continued to lie in bed long after hearing the door close behind Angelo. Now she knew where the term Italian Stallion came from and it had nothing to do with Rocky. How one man could have such staying power, so much stamina, she’d never understand. But what she did know was that Angelo took the prize. If she never walked again it would be entirely his fault. Thanks to him, last night she’d used muscles she hadn’t known she had. And how on earth had he come up with that see-saw position. She didn’t have to close her eyes to remember how her body had felt like it was almost suspended in mid-air.
Her sore muscles reminded her of everything she’d done last night. She wished she had the leisure of soaking in a hot tub, but unfortunately the room only had a shower. Angelo had left to go get breakfast, and she intended to shower and dress before he returned.
She thought about her conversation with Angelo when she’d awakened. He’d thought she would have regrets or wouldn’t have remembered anything about last night. She’d had no regrets, and she remembered everything. Sleeping with her best friend’s brother wasn’t something she thought would happen, but it had. Besides, it wasn’t as if they would continue the affair beyond their time together at the resort. So who was to know and who’d get hurt? Certainly not her. She knew the kind of games that were played when it came to wealthy playboys. Hadn’t she fallen hard for Matthew Elton, a guy who was from a wealthy Boston family? It wasn’t until her sophomore year of college that she’d learned why Matthew never invited her home with him. She didn’t have a clue until she’d overheard him telling another guy that he needed to come up with a reason to avoid inviting her home for the holidays, since she would never be accepted by his family because of her background, and that he could never take their relationship seriously. To this day, Matthew had never found out the truth about why Peyton left Yale. She’d been so hurt by his betrayal that she made up the excuse that she needed to transfer to the University of Illinois to be closer to home.
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