“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 elevated 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.
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.”
“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.”
Antonio Giovanni, a fifth-generation winemaker in the rolling hills of Tuscany, is the epitome of temptation. Tall, dark, and handsome with an accent sexy enough to leave a trail of women’s panties in his wake. The man wears charisma like a fine silk suit…flawless and molded to perfection in all the right places, leaving just enough mystery to make you wonder what lies beneath the faultless exterior.
Hope Tidwell, a world-renowned sommelier, is a strong independent woman who fights to have control over every aspect of her life. She makes her own money, her own decisions, her own happiness, and her own mistakes. Her existence doesn’t need to be validated by a man; she refuses to ask for anything except an orgasm, and even those she can manage on her own.
Relationships for most people are as natural as breathing. However, Hope and Antonio are two players who master the art of seduction and the fear of emotional intimacy. When tragedy strikes close to her heart, Hope is fated to do the one thing that terrifies her most.
Destiny reveals the biggest gifts often require the greatest sacrifices.