Chapter Seventeen
Lorenzo was decidedly not going to get all hot and bothered by the two guys next to him shoving their tongues down each other’s throats like a couple of teenagers late at night on a park bench. It seemed to happen the instant they were away from the city lights and on the mountainous road home. It sure didn’t take those two long to become better acquainted.
On second thought, maybe Tomasso should have made them share a seat. As it was they were steaming up the windows. Between them and the quiet moans coming from the front seat—where he guessed Tomasso was doing a little passenger-seat entertainment with his girlfriend—it felt more like a swap party than a friendly ride home.
That left him with the princess perched on her throne, and that throne happened to be him. Impossibly turned on by the woman whose breasts heaved perilously close to his mouth about every five to seven seconds, he felt cursed. She’d been his curse ever since she came on the scene, and once again he found himself hard and wanting, this time painfully so. He wondered if she could tell beneath that flimsy, barely there dress how much his body responded to her being there. Even though it would respond to pretty much anyone sitting on his lap. Well, anyone who looked like her, at any rate.
They could not have arrived back at the palazzo soon enough. After Tomasso eventually helped ease Sophie out of the car, Lorenzo stayed behind to settle things down—either that or he’d be the victim of much abuse from his brother and Gareth, which was the last thing he needed.
~*~
Sophie felt like a gigantic third wheel with the paired-off couples heading toward their little happy place. She was eternally grateful that Lorenzo stayed back instead of returning to the house when she did.
She bade goodnight to Tomasso and Gisele, then to Gareth and Justin—Lord knew if they were headed to separate quarters but it wasn’t her place to ask—and diverted to the kitchen to put her doggy bag in the large commercial refrigerator. She hoped it wasn’t weird to be sticking her dinky little foil packet of leftover veal in there. For all she knew, it would end up in the dog’s bowl for breakfast.
When she opened the large door, staring her in the face was a large tray of tiramisu, which looked ten times more delicious than the one at the restaurant, even though that one had been quite a challenge to resist. And though she’d felt full an hour ago, her stomach was suddenly growling and it seemed the best idea to maybe have a teensy taste of the dessert. Since it had already been served to people, she figured she could take a fat scoop out with her fingers and no one would be the wiser.
She dragged her pointer and middle fingers along the part where it had been cut into and brought the creamy treat to her mouth, first licking her fingers, then sucking both fingers into her mouth to savor the remaining bits. She let out a moan.
“Oh, my God. This is way better than sex,” she said, unable resist digging in for another taste.
~*~
That moan. Alarms went off in Lorenzo’s head the minute he heard it coming from the kitchen. He could never hear that sound again without picturing it coming from Sophie’s soft lips when he found her in such a state of extended pleasure. He had no choice but to follow where it led him.
He opened the door to the kitchen and there she was, her fingers plunged deep into a pan of his mamma’s tiramisu, moaning about how superior it was to sex. As if. Clearly the woman knew not of what she spoke because even the worst sex he’d ever had was at least a thousand times better than a simple dessert.
“Poor, deprived woman,” Lorenzo said, causing Sophie to freeze with her fingers in her mouth, eyes wide as dinner plates. “To think anyone could fancy a platter of dessert to be even remotely comparable to having sex.” He shook his head.
Sophie turned, the tray in her hand, and stuck her fingers in again. “You know what, Lorenzo? I’ve had a few glasses of wine and I’m feeling fine. So I’m not going to let you get under my skin. In fact, I feel a need to prove you wrong. Here, taste for yourself.” She hollowed out another chunk of the dessert and extended her arm toward him. She nodded. “Go ahead. I’m not going to bite you. Have a taste.”
She held her fingers in front of his mouth as he eyed her, like a cat trying to decide whether to pounce on a nearby squirrel or keep on walking.
At last, he swiped his tongue along her finger, and she cocked her brow waiting for his reaction. Within seconds his mouth closed around her two fingers and he sucked hard as he coaxed his tongue along them.
“I’ve had my mamma’s tiramisu a thousand times, but never has it tasted quite this good.” His mouth tilted to a grin on one side as he helped himself to a scoop of the dessert, offering it up to Sophie. Her gaze traveled from his offering to his eyes and back again before she finally swiped her tongue along his fingers. It didn’t take Lorenzo long to join her, their tongues meeting along his ring finger before their mouths pressed together. No longer concerned about licking his fingers clean, he pulled Sophie toward him as their tongues clashed in a heated frenzy. Sophie scooped more and inserted it between their lips and Lorenzo sucked and licked and moaned.
Finally he pulled away from her, but only for better access. “Fuck, cara,” he said, tugging her shawl off and tossing it onto the floor. Next came those two breast-filled hammocks that had taunted him the whole night through. He pulled one off her shoulder, then the other, exposing her breasts for him to feast on. His mouth immediately fastened onto one already-hard nipple, where he sucked and nipped until Sophie called out his name.
He grabbed the tiramisu, placed it on the marble countertop, and dug in with his fingers, smearing the sticky treat across her breast. With lust-crazed eyes, he stared into Sophie’s eyes for a second before pressing her up against the door of the refrigerator and burrowing back down to lick her breasts clean.
“Bellissima,” Lorenzo said as he planted his mouth over hers, pressing himself against her, his hands racing over her body, up beneath her dress, sliding beneath her thong. “La tua figa è così umida,” he hummed in her ear. “Your pussy is so wet.”
Sophie wrapped a leg around his waist, drawing him closer as she lifted his shirt out from his pants.
Suddenly he pulled away. “Mio Dio, carissima,” he said, extending his hand and linking it with hers. “Andiamo. Prontissimo.”
Sophie wasn’t quite sure what all he was saying to her but it sounded fantastic coming out of his mouth, and whatever it was, the urgency with which he spoke was the same language that her own body was talking, prontissimo indeed.
Chapter Eighteen
Lorenzo could not recall a time he felt so desperate to get inside a woman’s hot, wet body as he did right now with Sophie the producer whose last name he couldn’t for the life of him even recall. Not that it mattered. Who cared about surnames at a time like this? He raced down the empty corridor, panting, whether from the pace of their running or the urgency of their needs. They arrived at the entrance to their respective rooms and he pulled her toward hers.
“Since the minute I saw you in here, I’ve wanted to take you, right there, just as I saw you, your face flushed, your pink nipples hard, your hips gyrating.” He opened the door and they raced in, slamming the door behind them.
He shrugged off his jacket and wasted no time undressing Sophie, reaching behind to slide the zipper down, shifting the dress from her hips, where it fell to the floor in a hush. Her hands trembled as she loosened his tie and undid each of the buttons on his shirt, eventually tossing it by the door.
Lorenzo stood back and stared at this witch of a woman standing before him in nothing but a tiny stretch of black fabric that covered her beautifully smooth pussy and those hot, hot sandals that emphasized her amazing, long legs.
He motioned with his finger for her to turn around. He didn’t want to miss anything about her: the lines of her beautiful back, the soft curve of her sexy ass. She was fucking beautiful, and suddenly he couldn’t for the life of him understand why he had been combative with her. Make love, not war. That sho
uld be his motto. Why fight with someone as stunning as Sophie Pellegrino—aha! that was her name!—when he could be driving his cock into her instead?
Sophie reached for his belt, quickly unfastening it, then unbuttoned his pants and pulled down his zipper, tugging his pants over his ass.
It was her turn to stand back and take him in, eyes widening at the sight of him. Lorenzo stood there, his cock straining desperately against his black bikini briefs. She twirled her finger, mimicking his demand from moments earlier, and he smiled at her cheekiness, turning obligingly.
But his patience was wavering; he needed to touch her, lick her, suck her, so he pressed against her, his knee pushing between her legs as their lips met. He whispered sweet nothings into her ear in Italian. “I want to fuck your sweet pussy,” he said, which always sounds much better as “voglio scopare la tua figa dolce.”
He dragged his tongue across her lips, along her chin, up to her ear, nipping on her ear lobe, then the shell of her ear, his tongue following along it until his mouth was over her ear, and he moaned and breathed hard as he tweaked her nipples with his fingers. His tongue resumed its lazy meandering downward, along the column of her neck, pausing at the nape, where he licked in circles. Dragging his tongue farther down her cleavage and circling first one breast, then the other, he flicked her nipple and settled his lips over the top of it sucking hard. Sophie groaned, and he soon repeated it on the other one.
His tongue continued its downward momentum, pausing to circle her navel while his fingers tugged off her thong. He sat back on his knees and admired her naked body. “Spread your legs, cara.”
She did as he told her, allowing him to resume his efforts, taking his time, dragging his tongue along her creases, circling her clit, and burying it deep inside her, mimicking what he planned to do with his cock as soon as he brought her to climax.
Sophie swirled her fingers through Lorenzo’s thick hair, pressing him toward her, encouraging him with her hands and her sounds of pleasure. Lorenzo stroked long, slow passes along her labia while his fingers slid inside, curling forward in search of her G-spot. Next he fastened his lips over her clit and sucked hard. He could sense the flutter of her internal muscles—they spasmed as she moaned loudly, her hips pressing into his mouth, her body shaking, legs trembling as Lorenzo steadied her. When she stopped trembling, he stood and wrapped his arms around her, pressing his hard length along her wet folds.
“Cara, allow me?” He cocked his eyebrow, desperate for her to say yes.
She nodded, pulling down his briefs. His cock stood proud and pulsing. “How do you want it, carissima?”
Sophie reached for his cock, wrapping her long fingers around it, stroking it rhythmically. She lifted an eyebrow. “Well,” she said, “there’s a vision I haven’t been able to get out of my mind ever since you first mentioned it...”
He reached for his nearby pants, pulling his wallet from a pocket, quickly finding a condom. Tossing the wallet down, he tore the condom out and handed it to Sophie to do the honors. As she unrolled it over his hard length, he groaned. “Cara, I’m not going to last long with your greedy hands on me like that. Tell me what you want.”
She turned around, pressing her bottom up against his cock and rubbing. He reached his hands around to massage her tits, sighing at how good they felt in his hands. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “I was thinking maybe alla pecorina?”
“Tesoro,” Lorenzo whispered. Darling. “You wish is my command.”
Sophie climbed onto the bed and positioned herself on all fours and turned to smile at Lorenzo, who knelt down behind her, his hands worshipping her back and hips before settling on her ass. He slid his cock along her slick center and they both moaned at the touch of his hard warmth on her. He pressed his tip against her opening and slowly entered her, biting his lip against the pleasure as her pussy swallowed his length. Once he was buried deep inside her, he stilled, leaning forward to play with her tits. Slowly he withdrew and pressed in again, reaching down to feel where their bodies were joined.
“Cara, I can’t believe how perfectly my cock fits your body. It’s like it was made to be there.”
Sophie moaned. “Lorenzo, fill me up, baby.”
Which was all he needed to begin driving hard into her, pressing deep and grinding until his balls pressed up against her clit, his cock moving like a piston in and out, his fingers working her from the outside as his cock took care of filling her up just as she’d begged him to do.
“Vengo,” he shouted. I’m coming. His body tensed and he thrust deep and held himself still as he emptied himself into her right as he felt the contractions deep inside her, gripping his cock, milking it.
They collapsed with him still inside her, both breathing hard, their bodies coated in sweat and sticky residue from their little dessert foreplay.
“Now that, cara, was better than all the tiramisu in the world.”
Chapter Nineteen
Sophie could not believe what a turn of fortune had occurred in such a short period of time. Only a few hours ago she was throwing Lorenzo dirty looks at dinner, and now she was naked with him in a shower as he gently washed gooey remnants of dessert off her breasts with his slick, soapy hands.
The Italian man’s motto must have been “be prepared” because Lorenzo didn’t even have to go back to his room to get a second condom, instead finding where he’d tossed his wallet on the floor and pulling one out for round two. Or at least she hoped it would be round two.
“As much as I love to lick those sweet tits, right now I’d much rather have the chance to soap you up and have my way with you with hot water running down our bodies.”
What girl could turn down that proposition?
The shower had multiple showerheads, making it like a massive shower massage. Lorenzo took a spray nozzle and aimed it at her breasts, rinsing the sticky residue, then targeted her nipples. Sophie shuddered at the sensation.
He reached for the pins in her hair, pulling her tresses down to drape over her back. Wetting her hair before he poured shampoo into the palm of his hand, he slowly worked it through her scalp and downward, massaging it into a lather.
“Lean your head back so I can rinse, cara.”
She was more than happy to lean in to this man—he had all the right moves and the most perfect touch.
After they’d toweled off they retreated to her bed.
“Now it’s my turn,” Sophie said as she ran her fingers along his hard torso. She planted kisses along his jaw and down his neck, dragging her tongue along his collarbone. She continued to lick her way to his chest, nipping on a nipple and trailing her mouth beneath his arm to that area that made her mad, swirling her tongue under his arm, trailing her fingertips through the hair there. Soon she migrated farther down his body, her tongue following the contours of his abs and the trail of hair that pointed the way to where she wanted to go.
She settled herself between his legs, cupped his cock in her hands, and fixed her gaze on his as she reached her tongue out and gave a long, slow swipe along the head. Her own personal sucker. Or was she his? He groaned and closed his eyes.
“Grazie a dio.” Thank God.
Sophie swirled her tongue over the swollen head of his dick, then worked it along the rim, taking several long licks from the base to the tip before closing her lips over the head and sliding it into her mouth. Lorenzo placed his hands on her head, guiding her, encouraging her with each long suck. He pressed himself toward her mouth, and again their eyes locked as she took him in deep while her hands pulled on him near the base of his penis.
“Cara, I can’t last. I need to feel your wet warmth around me again.” He pulled her up toward him and she straddled his body. He handed her the condom and together they rolled it onto his hard length; Sophie lowered herself onto his cock, his girth spreading her wide as he buried deep into her.
She stayed still for a moment, adjusting to his size, leaning forward so he could take her nipple into his mouth. Soo
n she ground her hips toward him, gyrating enough to rub her clit against his base. She began to lift and lower herself onto him, picking up the pace as he grabbed her ass and used the leverage to thrust into her. Sophie leaned forward and pressed her mouth to Lorenzo’s, reveling in the sensation of being connected so deeply. She picked up the pace of her own gyrations. His cock kept hitting that perfect spot time and again, and within minutes she felt the burst of fireworks start from deep inside and spasms spreading out to squeeze Lorenzo’s dick as she shouted out his name. He gripped her hard as he thrust himself into her again and again, finally letting out a loud groan and a shudder as he came inside her.
~*~
Sophie awoke to the sound of birdsong outside. It took her a moment to remember what had transpired... and it all came back in a rush of memories as she noticed tender places on her body that hadn’t been sore in ages. The feeling made her as happy as those birds chirping to greet the morning. She extended her arm to feel for Lorenzo, but her hand came up empty. Instead all she found was a cold sheet.
Huh. Maybe he had to be somewhere early. Shame. She’d have loved to go for a little command performance. After all, he was right: tiramisu couldn’t hold a candle to flat-out monkey sex, especially after a long dry spell.
Well, she had a busy day ahead of her. She only wished they’d discussed how they were going to handle this publicly. The fact was, she had no business sleeping with this man. But come off it—how could she not, under the circumstances? It would have taken the willpower of a superhero to resist the magnetic sexual pull he emitted.
Well, she’d simply take her cues from him and go from there.
~*~
“Buon giorno!” Sophie smiled as she joined those seated already for breakfast in the dining room.
“Ciao, Sophie.” Valentina greeted her with a kiss on each cheek. “Have you met my brother Dominico yet?” Valentina pointed to a tall, solidly built man with the classic Romeo hair and stubble on his chin. The brothers all looked so similar, though without question, Lorenzo won the gene pool with perfect looks and a rockin’ bod.
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