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CHAPTER FOUR
It felt like a lifetime since Matteo had last kissed her, and Jennifer’s arms reached up to clutch onto his broad shoulders as if she was afraid that her knees might give way. But only her lips did that—parting in a soft sigh as he began to kiss her.
Because to her horror—but not to her surprise—Matt’s touch was like lighting a touchpaper. Jennifer’s skin was on fire, and her heart was skittering away with excitement and almost a touch of desperation—like a drowning woman who had kicked up to the surface of the water for one last gulp of sweet air.
I just want one last kiss, she told herself. One last kiss from the man I loved enough to marry. The man I thought I would have children with and grow old with. One kiss—is that so very wrong?
But adults didn’t just ‘kiss’ and nothing more—particularly those who had been married and who were still in the throes of a powerful sexual attraction.
Jennifer tore her mouth away from his as he began to rove the flat of his hand over one swollen breast, circling it over and over again until the nipple felt so exquisitely hardened that she sobbed aloud with frustrated pleasure. ‘Matteo!’ she gasped.
‘Si.’ He ground the word out in between hot and shallow breaths, scarcely able to believe that this was happening. That he was doing this to her and that she was letting him—and, oh, it was good. Too good. Madre de Dio—it had been so long. And it was never as good with anyone as it was with Jenny. He teased her lips with his in a soft and provocative kiss.
With a disbelieving sob she moved her mouth fractionally from his, knowing that this was wrong—worse than wrong—it was a kind of madness!
‘Matteo, we…we…mustn’t. You know we mustn’t!’
God forgive him, but he used his hands as ruthlessly then as he had ever done in his life. He had never wanted a woman more than he wanted Jenny at that moment. Not even on that first night when he had taken her to his bed. Nor the time when he had been a teenage virgin and the older woman who had seduced him had made him wait. Because a woman likes a man to wait, she had purred. Well, there was to be no waiting now—he didn’t want it and, to judge by the frantic grinding of her hips, neither did Jenny.
For the first and only time in his life he wanted her so badly that he thought he was about to come in his trousers. But he reined his desire in with a rigid self-control not betrayed in his sensual movements. He drifted his fingers beneath the thin bodice of her dress and took her bare breast in his hand, cupping it experimentally and feeling her knees buckle as she relaxed against him.
‘Oh!’ she squealed.
All she knew was sensation. She felt the rush of pleasure overwhelm her—and somehow all thoughts of this being wrong just melted away. A hunger both sharp and irresistible bubbled inside her like darkest, sweetest honey, and carried her along in its heavy flow as he touched her nipple.
‘Matteo!’ she gasped again, only this time the word was spoken in wonder and not in half-hearted protest.
Desire was jack-knifing through him in a way that was barely tolerable. He felt the hot pumping of his blood, the frantic pounding of his heart. Could see the gleam of her eyes and the soft moistness of her lips. It was like entering another world—of love and intrigue and lust and betrayal. One where his powers were weakened. And she weakened him. Just as she always had done. Like no one else did.
Stop me, Jennifer, he begged silently as he touched his fingertips to the silken tumble of her hair.
Il Dio lo perdona! He lowered his head, brushing his lips against hers—a fleeting, butterfly graze—giving her time to realise. Time to stop.
But she did no such thing. Her hands moved from his shoulders to his neck, pressing his face closer, so that the kiss deepened almost before he had realised, and she was lacing her tongue with his.
He moved his hand to the fork between her legs and pressed there, hard. She almost jumped out of her skin.
Her words were slurred yet shaky with disbelief. ‘Matteo…
‘Si, cara mia?’
‘You…you shouldn’t be doing that.’
He felt her wetness through the silk of her evening gown and closed his eyes. ‘Oh, but I should. You know I should. You were born for just this, Jenny. Oh, God!’
She would stop him in a minute. Just a little more of this sweet pleasure and then she would push him away. Her head fell back against the metal wall of the lift as he began to ruck up her dress, and it was so close to her illicit fantasy of earlier that Jennifer almost fainted with pleasure.
His hand was on her bare thigh now.
Stop him.
And now it was moving up to her damp panties. Maybe she would let him bring her to orgasm first, and then she would call a halt to it.
Matteo felt her thighs parting and he could scarcely believe what was happening. She wasn’t going to stop him!
He said something soft and very explicit in Italian, and Jennifer knew exactly what it meant for she had heard it many times before. It should have made her put the brakes on, halt this madness once and for all. And every ounce of reason in her body was screaming out at her to do just that. But she was so hot and hungry for him—hotter than she had ever been in her life—that she would have died right there and then sooner than not have him do this to her.
She whimpered as he slid her panties across and she heard the rasp of his zip. He rubbed his thumb across her swollen clitoris and Jennifer gave a tiny scream.
