She frowned. ‘I don’t want to wait. This is just sex.’
‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘But is that really what you want?’
‘Are you trying to get me to change my mind?’
‘I’m letting you know it’s okay if you do.’
‘I’m fully aware of that, Massimiliano. This is my choice; it’s what I want.’
He sat back in his seat, his eyes focused on the back of the seat in front. ‘Okay,’ he said, tone of his voice giving little away. ‘If you are sure, then so be it.’
She was not in the headspace to take in the details of his luxurious penthouse, so she was glad he didn’t give her a full tour. There would be time to familiarise herself with her temporary new home later. Time to absorb the space this man lived in. For now, she was practically trembling from head to toe with anticipation.
‘So,’ she said, standing in the middle of an enormous living room, with white leather sofas, polished timber floors and a fireplace suspended from the ceiling, hanging right in the centre of the sofas. The afternoon light sliced through the space with a golden intensity, making it look like a film set, rather than a home. ‘Where’s your bedroom?’
His brows shot up and his smile was slow to unfurl. Except it wasn’t really a smile so much as a wolfish grin that made her shiver with something better than anticipation: darkness. Warning. A feeling that she was in way over her head and loved that fact.
‘You are impatient.’
‘You know why.’
‘Yes,’ he murmured, walking across the room to the bar and pouring two measures of Scotch—one significantly smaller than the other. ‘You want it to be over,’ he said with a hint of mockery. He carried the cut-crystal glasses across with him, until they were standing toe to toe, then handed the smaller portion to her. She took it on autopilot, shivering when their hands brushed for even a moment. ‘You asked me to be your first lover,’ he said, swirling his drink in the glass a little, obsidian gaze holding hers. ‘For this to happen, you have to accept that it will be my way. Do you trust me?’
Something flared in the centre of her chest. Adrenaline and excitement. ‘I barely know you,’ she pointed out, glad she’d muted her first reaction of agreement. Because in some weird way, she did trust him. How could that be, when they’d only just met?
‘Is that a no?’ he pushed.
She lifted her drink to her lips, breathed in the fragrance then pulled a face. It was so strong and masculine. ‘Fine, I trust you. I trust you to do what you said, and not to hurt me.’
His eyes flared. ‘Only, I’m not going to do what I said.’
Something stammered in her chest and her hand gripped the glass tighter. ‘What? You can’t back out. I married you on the basis—’
And then his finger was pressing to her lips, to silence her at first. It worked. She clamped them together, staring up at him, breath jammed in her throat.
‘I’m not going to sleep with you tonight.’
Her mouth parted as she processed that. ‘But we—’
His finger began to trace the outline of her lips, so goosebumps lifted over her entire body. ‘You have no experience with men.’
She was only capable of making a garbled sound of agreement.
‘No experience with sex.’
She closed her eyes as his finger stopped tracing and the tip of it pressed against the middle of her mouth, breaching the interior and feeling the moistness of her inner lip. Her heart turned over in her chest and her stomach tightened almost painfully.
‘The first thing you need to know is that there’s so much more to sex than just sex.’
‘That makes no sense,’ she groaned as he slid his finger further into her mouth, brushing it along her tongue before withdrawing it, so when she blinked up at him and their eyes met, she felt a surge of something powerful and raw.
‘It will.’ His smile was arrogant confidence personified.
‘The second thing you need to know is that you must use your voice. If you are in pain, if I do something you do not like, or are not comfortable with, you need only say and I will stop. Communication is important, okay?’
She nodded, barely conscious of what she was saying.
‘We’ll start slow.’
