Toeing off his shoes, he unbuttoned his shirt.
And his eyes narrowed on hers in a way that told her he didn’t like her attitude.
Tough titty.
‘But you know how I hate secrets.’
Her voice was rising and now his dark eyes went wide.
He stripped off his shirt.
‘Si, but it was not my secret. And do not try to use this as an attempt to draw my attention away from what happened today. You deserve a spanking.’
Yeah, that’ll be the day.
Bronte told herself she would not be distracted by his strong manly chest, the hard abs, as he unbuckled his belt, unzipped his fly.
However, she couldn’t help the usual curl of lust deep in her belly as he stepped out of his trousers.
The man was built like an athlete, all long and lean muscles and a tight, tight ass.
The twins were fed and bathed and sound asleep.
And she was hungry, but not for food.
‘You’ve been reading too much about that naughty romance that’s hit the headlines.’
Picking up his jeans, he gave her a dangerous smile.
That glorious face with its high cheekbones, the wide mouth and the strong manly chin never failed to make her mouth water.
The look in his eyes for her made her belly dance.
After two years he still made her drool.
‘Married women with children have gone wild for it. It has spiced up their sex lives,’ he said in a deep throaty voice.
The Italian accent was more pronounced and made her shiver.
Now she entered, closed the door and leaned against it.
‘Our sex life doesn’t need more spice.’
He tossed the jeans and strolled towards her like a big black panther.
She tipped her head back to gaze into his fabulous face and told herself she was a lucky, lucky girl.
He placed the flat of his hands against the door on either side of her head and leaned down.
The warm scent of him, aroused healthy male, his cologne, was so familiar, so potent, it never failed to turn her on.
‘Grazie, cara. You humble me.’
Anything less humble she had yet to see.
Her gaze dropped to his swollen shaft peeking above the waistband of his jockeys.
Her fingertip whispered over the sensitive flesh to spread the clear fluid leaking from the slit of his cock and her big husband shuddered.
With her eyes on his she took her finger to her mouth and licked it.
His eyes went so dark so fast and she knew she had him.
‘You’ve never been humble in your life. But I don’t mind a little... variety.’
Those eyes glittered into hers and accepted her challenge.
‘Si?’
He stepped back and stripped.
Now he moved to a couch covered in cream linen.
He sat back, spread his legs and took his shaft in his fist and pumped once, twice, three times.
Dark eyes never left hers and she read arousal and something else.
She’d scared him today.
And challenged him in front of her brother and in front of a member of his staff.
If there was one thing she’d learned about Nico Ferranti it was that he never, ever walked away from a challenge.
‘Strip,’ he ordered.
The way he said it, the command in his voice and the way those dark eyes took a lazy stroll over her body made the slick heat aching between her legs throb in a dark rhythm.
She loved it when he got all dominant and possessive.
Her feet were bare as she padded over to him and pulled off her thin jersey cotton vest.
She never wore a bra so her small breasts tightened as his eyes dropped to her nipples.
For years the lack of breasts had bothered her, but her big Italian husband adored her body. And he’d taught her to love it, be comfortable with it, too.
Her fingers popped the button of her white denim shorts, pulled down the zip.
She wiggled her hips as they fell to her ankles, leaving her in nothing more than a scrap of white lace that rode low on her hips.
He continued to pleasure himself, watching her like a lazy big cat.
And she decided to give the cat a poke.
‘Are you still angry with me?’
She gave him big eyes, fluttered her lashes.
His tongue licked his bottom lip.
‘Turn around.’
She gave him a cheeky grin that narrowed his eyes before she did as he asked.
Then wiggled her bottom.
‘Take off your panties.’
The way she bent over as she pulled her panties over her hips, down her legs to her ankles made Nico’s cock thicken under his hand.
He smothered a groan.
His wife was teasing him, challenging him and he loved it.
Her pert ass was exposed as she stepped out of her panties and now she looked over her shoulder as she stroked the firm flesh of her ass cheek.
Naughty girl.
It had taken time but these days she was at ease in her own skin and that made him a very happy man.
But now he wondered if she was ready to take another step.
A step that would require her total trust in him.
This was not the first time she had mentioned the book that dealt with dominance and submission and he wondered if she’d read it.
‘Get on the bed on your hands and knees.’
With another arch look over her shoulder she sauntered over to their big high bed, and got on her hands and knees facing him.
He stood and moved towards her.
His cock was on the same level as her face and he saw her pupils dilate.
She loved giving him a blow job but she’d never swallowed his seed.
He’d never asked it of her.
Her hair was still in its high ponytail.
Good, it would give him something to hold on to.
‘Do you want to taste me, cara?’
The little purr she made in her throat fired his cock.
Her hand moved to take him, but he shook his head.
‘No. Come to the edge of the bed and kneel back on your heels.’
She did as he asked and her laughing eyes met his, her hands resting on her lean thighs.
‘Spread your knees.’
Biting her top lip, she opened her legs wide.
The smooth flesh of her swollen sex glistened with the evidence of her arousal.
‘Touch your clitoris.’
There was a time when she might have hesitated, but not now.
Now her fingers slid around that tightly swollen little nub and he saw her pupils dilate.
‘Taste it.’
The hesitation was brief but he didn’t miss it.
She brought her fingers to her mouth and her tongue flicked out.
Her brow creased as she sampled herself.
‘Like it?’
‘It’s... interesting.’
‘Would you like to taste my seed?’
Now those eyes went wide with something that looked like a mix of surprise and desire.
‘Yes,’ she whispered and moved to take him in her hand.
‘No touching, cara. Hands behind your back. I will control when I come.’
She blinked.
‘Okay.’
He stepped into her, took her ponytail in his hand, wrapping it around his wrist.
Big green eyes gazed into his before dropping to his cock.
The pulse under her ear was fast as her tongue licked her bottom lip.
‘Open.’
She opened her mouth and took him in and his pelvis thrust gently once, twice.
He tugged back her head to get the angle right as she took him down her throat.
Dio, she felt fantastic.
He pulled back and her tongue swirled around the mushroom head licking him like her favourite ice-cream in a way that made him gasp.
&
nbsp; Again he thrust into her hot, wet mouth and this time he went fast taking care not to choke her.
Big eyes watched him as his body shook with the wonder of it.
Her groan vibrated up his cock and into his balls.
‘Are you okay?’ he gasped.
Her nod made him go faster.
He had to lock his knees since his legs felt boneless.
The way her hot mouth, her tongue, caused a wonderful friction along with the moans that vibrated right down to his toes made his cock so hard his eyes crossed.
But he couldn’t do it and pulled his cock from her mouth with a little pop.
Now she frowned at him, anxiety and confusion in those beautiful green eyes.
‘What happened?’
Breathing through the sting in his balls, he shook his head.
‘I cannot.’
‘Why not? I was so turned on I was almost ready to explode.’
She was?
‘Some women do not find the experience a pleasant one.’
Now her brow lifted.
‘You find the taste of me pleasant.’
‘Si, I love to taste you.’
‘Then don’t you think it’s only fair that I get to try you?’
He saw her point of view, but he couldn’t do it to her and the ache in his cock was distracting him.
The way he released her hair and took a step back seriously annoyed Bronte.
For goodness sake, what was the matter with him?
She was so turned on and about to spontaneously combust.
His balls were pulled so tight up into his groin and his cock looked hard enough to pound nails in the floor.
‘Nico!’
Now his eyes burned into hers.
‘I am not in a fit state to debate the issue with you. Turn around.’
His tone was one of a man at the end of his tether, and who’s fault was that?
Confused, she got on her hands and knees.
She turned around and he grabbed her hips and pulled her back against him.
‘Open wide.’
She spread her legs and prayed for him to enter her, to take her hard and fast because the way her sex was aching and too heavy with arousal she was ready to scream.
His fingers slid inside her and her body clenched down hard.
Her moan was heartfelt.
‘Nico, please.’
His thumb slid around her slick heat spread fluid up the crack between her ass cheeks in a way that made her gasp.
And then he thrust his cock to the hilt and pounded into her so hard and so fast she screamed.
The orgasm that sped through her system had her back arch and as she came he pressed his thumb against the tight muscle and Bronte fell apart.
But even as he pulled his rock hard cock from her core he wasn’t finished.
The first smack caught her so totally by surprise that her cry was one of shock rather than pain.
She collapsed onto the bed and he dragged her down until her feet were on the floor and her torso was face down on the bed.
A strong hand pressed between her shoulder blades to keep her still.
‘I want to spank you.’
A dark excitement speared through the low ache in her belly.
She knew he wouldn’t hurt her, in fact the heat from her ass cheek was doing lovely things to her clitoris.
‘I don’t do well with pain.’
‘If it gets too much I will stop.’
The next smack came so fast it too was a surprise.
But as he got into a rhythm she realised he was using an upswing with the flat of his hand in a way that heated her flesh rather than hurt it.
And that heat travelled through her ass into her clitoris and up into her womb.
Her arousal flooded in a way that stunned her.
She’d never been so wet in her life.
‘Nico, please,’ she begged with absolutely no idea what for.
And then she was on her back with her legs over his shoulders and his cock pounding into her.
His heavy balls slapped against her ass and he never took his eyes from hers.
No matter how many times he made love to her she was always a surprise.
The way she kept pace with him.
Her hands clutching the duvet fisted.
And he felt her gather again as her core muscles squeezed him too hard.
The tingle in his balls ricocheted from his heels to the base of his spine as she went rigid, curved her spine and cried his name.
The way his seed was torn from his body made him whine in his throat before Nico collapsed on top of her.
Bronte lay on her belly and just let her body sink into the bed.
Her ass was hot and she bet it was glowing.
‘Are you okay?’
She lifted her head, turned to look at him.
‘Never better.’
His eyes twinkled into hers.
‘How did you like my punishment?’
She nudged his leg with hers.
‘I’ll need to be naughty more often. Why couldn’t you come in my mouth?’
He shook his head.
‘I could not.’
Now she sent him a big smile.
‘You know what they say? Practice makes perfect.’
She caught his grin as he bent to kiss her bottom.
‘I adore you, cara mia.’
‘I love you.’
A cry came from the baby monitor.
Duty called and Luca would just have to wait a minute until his mother made herself presentable.
And Bronte rolled off the bed, heading for the shower.
As she turned on the tap, Nico joined her.
The way his big hands smoothed liquid soap on her skin had her look back over her shoulder.
‘We don’t have time for that.’
‘He is quiet again and it will do him no harm to wait.’
He nudged her out the way while he hogged the water, cleaning his cock and his balls with a thoroughness that made her brows lift.
He caught her silent question.
‘As you said, practice makes perfect.’
Chapter Thirty Two
It had been a long day.
The girls had gone home early and Rosie wiped down stainless steel worktops, polished them to a glossy shine. The kitchen was so clean at Sweet Sensations a person could happily eat food off the floor.
Busy work to stop her thinking.
Since her admission of guilt to Bronte about Simon her next task was one that she couldn’t avoid.
How to tell Alexander that the man was a figment of her imagination.
All day she’d carefully rehearsed her little speech.
Confession they say was good for the soul.
Not her soul.
He was going to kill her.
She just hoped he’d make it quick and put her out of her misery.
But the mere thought of telling the truth made her queasy.
Alexander wouldn’t let the matter rest until he’d got to the bottom of the nitty about the gritty.
‘I will never, ever, tell another lie for as long as I live,’ Rosie chanted the promise in her head.
The doorbell of the annex rang.
Rosie dropped her cloth and wandered through the interconnecting hall into her home.
She opened the door and found herself staring at a wide manly chest wearing a soft shirt of white cotton.
She knew that chest.
Her gaze travelled up, came to Alexander’s wonderful face.
Not a happy face.
And met eyes the colour of a stormy sea.
Crap.
She gave him wide eyes.
His narrowed.
‘You got some ‘splainin to do, Lucy,’ he drawled in his best Desi Arnaz accent from the ‘I Love Lucy’ show.
Omigod.
He only channelled that show when she was in deep trouble.
The butterflies in her tummy tur
ned into bats.
Rosie took a step back and Alexander entered.
He strolled over to a couch and sat.
Stretching out long legs he crossed them at the ankle and sat back.
His eyes lasered into hers and the look in them told her he found her fascinating, perplexing and downright annoying.
‘I met Simon Lowther today,’ he began in a dulcet tone that dried her throat.
He did?
‘Really?’ she squeaked.
Her stomach clutched.
Omigod.
‘He’s never heard of Rosemary Gordon.’
She swallowed the urge to giggle like a fool, cleared her throat.
‘Really?’
‘Yeah, according to him you two have never met. Is that true?’
‘I never said I knew Simon Lowther.’
Now those eyes slitted.
‘You never said you didn’t either.’
She tried very hard not to imagine the conversation between Alexander and poor Simon.
Poor Simon.
‘What do you think the odds are of two airline captains called Simon, who are tall, blonde, tanned and built?’ he asked now.
Remember, no more lies.
Rosie looked him dead in the eye.
‘No idea.’
Those eyes lasered into hers.
‘I’ve checked the surrounding area thoroughly. My security team are the best by the way, and guess what?’ he asked conversationally.
Her heart rate skipped from quick to very fast.
‘What?’
‘No sign of another Simon. The only Simon who is a captain who flies is Simon Lowther. And you’re gonna love this...’
The buzzing in her ears made her take a shaky breath.
‘I am?’
‘Oh yeah. He’s gay.’
Rosie bit down very hard on her bottom lip as her brow creased.
The look in his eye had her swallow hysterical laughter.
But her eyes watered up.
Honestly, what the hell was he like?
He never, ever gave up.
‘Oh well then, you found the wrong man. Serves you right.’
‘Is Simon his real name?’ he asked in a silky voice.
Under that penetrating gaze Rosie felt herself grow smaller.
‘It’s sort of complicated.’
‘I asked you a question.’
The silence was never-ending as her brain raced.
Rosie found she couldn’t look away from the intensity of those green eyes.
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