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Heart leaping into her throat, she spun around.
Sure enough, she was confronted with unapologetic masculinity. Masterful decoration and effortless sophistication created by a man who knew what he wanted and expressed it in his surroundings. Bold greys blended with dark bronze highlights. There were sharply angled shapes and edgier art than she’d seen in any of the Fiorenti properties so far, displayed on the walls and cabinetry. But the massive bed she’d somehow missed when she’d stumbled into the room was what really gripped her attention.
As she stared at it, dumbfounded, the atmosphere in the room shifted. Morphed and thickened with a different vibe that catapulted her blood through her veins at triple speed. She didn’t need to turn to know he was watching her. She knew the instant he started towards her. Because a raw and primitive drumbeat started at her core and spread like brush fire through her.
She heard the rustle of clothes and pivoted to find him tugging off his jacket. With casual ease, he tossed it over a nearby seat.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Making myself comfortable.’
He kicked off his shoes, then walked past her to the bedside table, where he slid off his sleek wristwatch and set it down.
Somehow those small, intimate, everyday actions were enough to set off several more blazes inside her. She stood there, mesmerised, as he slowly strode past her, positioned himself behind her and cupped one shoulder with his hand. The other lazily threaded through her hair, caressing, shifting, until to her breathless astonishment it was suddenly a loose rope, wrapped around his wrist. Only then did he lean in closer, align his head with hers so his lips brushed her ear.
‘“I want you, Maceo.” Your words,’ he reminded her thickly.
His heat engulfed her. ‘There were other words too.’
‘Si, spoken when you laboured under a misapprehension,’ he pointed out. ‘One that made the gross error of assuming I would choose anyone less than an exceptional woman to experience this with.’
Faye’s core melted, reshaped itself into a form she wasn’t quite prepared to examine. Not when her every sense was fully under his control, a raw lump of willing clay, yearning to be moulded into any shape he desired.
‘Do you believe I’m that woman?’ she asked. She needed to know. To be absolutely sure.
He hesitated for one heart-rending moment. Then, ‘In this moment, when you’re all I can think about, taste, smell, crave? Si...’ he responded thickly, gently tugging the rein he’d made of her hair, exposing her neck to the thrill of his wandering lips.
The drugging desire that swelled through her was almost enough to make her disregard his words.
Almost.
But ‘in this moment’ lingered—a tiny but unmissable blemish for a person who’d lived her life intimately familiar with stains. And on top of that he’d made a vow...one whose full details she didn’t know but could guess. Both were searing reminders that this thing had a very limited shelf life.
She twisted in his arms with a whimper, to confront her desire full-on.
He tilted her head back, stared deep into her eyes. ‘Tell me you want this, mio dolce,’ he breathed.
‘I want this,’ she whispered, urgency powering through her.
He didn’t waste another second before he slammed her body into his.
Several salacious facts buffeted her at once. She was doing this—truly experiencing a sexual encounter without shame or secrets for the first time in her life. He wasn’t repulsed by her. He’d chosen her. No matter how temporarily, Maceo wanted her with a fever that blazed in his eyes.
His hand trailed over her hip to flatten in the small of her back. He tugged her closer until she felt the bold imprint of his manhood. She gasped, tried to pull back when she registered his impressive size. He kept her prisoner in the circle of his arms, his eyes raking her face.
‘Stay. Feel what you do to me,’ he urged, his voice gritty with rough desire.
Feminine power ploughed through her. With almost unnerving abandon she rose on her bare tiptoes and pressed her breasts into his chest.
He shuddered, and then he was kissing her with the kind of savage hunger that powered those tectonic plates inside her, shifted the centre of her axis just that little bit more. And yet it warned her there would be ripples long into her future. Long after she’d left this...him...behind.
Faye suppressed the thought. Moaned as his tongue curled around hers. Trembled when his teeth nipped at her bottom lip in a carnal sampling that left her reeling. She might have one experience to her name, but Maceo was the true connoisseur. Within minutes she clung to him, every sinew weak with need.
One strong arm banded her waist and lifted her off her feet. Long strides placed them in front of the bed. Slowly he slid her down his front, hissing out a breath when her softness moulded against him.
He raised her arms above her head, caught them in one hand and held them there, in preparation for their own unique dance. His gaze fused with hers; he slowly tugged at her zip and her dress fell to her waist. A firm push and the soft material pooled at her ankles, leaving her in only tiny lace panties.
Without breaking their locked gaze, he linked their hands, palm to palm. ‘Mio Dio, but I’m going to take my time with you,’ he vowed, in a gravel-rough voice.
