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He lowered himself to kiss her. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said against her mouth.
“It will only hurt the first time, so let’s get the first time over.”
“My pragmatist,” he murmured, smiling. “I appreciate your candor, but it doesn’t sound sexy.”
“I’m not sexy,” she said hoarsely as he shifted, adjusting himself so that the tip of his shaft was pressing at her entrance.
She exhaled slowly as he pushed in. He was large and she felt tight, but he kept pressing forward, and she drew a deep breath, trying to focus on his warmth and how he felt like satin, but it was snug, as he pushed in, and it began to sting.
Her eyes burned and she blinked, surprised by the pain. She really was too old to be a virgin, she thought blinking back tears.
“I’m hurting you,” he said, growing still.
“It’s okay,” she whispered, her hands sliding around his back, savoring the warmth of his skin and the dense muscle in his back. He did feel good, and she wanted this, and it would only hurt the first time. “Don’t stop.”
“Bella, darling—”
“Please. Don’t stop.”
He thrust deeply, burying himself in her. Gio kissed her, giving her time to get used to him, and as she responded, kissing him back, he began to move, hips rocking, withdrawing to sink back into her. She felt a sensation that made her sigh, not quite a tickle or tingle, but something almost delicious. He thrust into her again, and she felt the same pleasure. She relaxed, welcoming the press of his body and the way he sank deeply into her. Her pulse quickened as his tempo increased, and she began to breathe more deeply, feeling her body tighten around him. He was driving her toward another orgasm, and she gripped his shoulders, her body lifting to meet his, wanting the pressure and pleasure, wantin
g him, wanting more of this sensation of them together.
They felt like one. They felt the way she’d thought love would feel. Bright and intense and stunning and so deeply satisfying.
And just like that, she knew two things—she loved him, and she couldn’t hold back anymore. She gave in to both then, her heart opening to love him even as her body yielded to the pleasure. She shattered beneath him and kept shattering, and then he, too, must have been climaxing, as he stiffened and his hands buried in her hair, his hard body filling her completely.
For long moments afterward, her heart pumped, and her skin felt hot and flushed. She closed her eyes, savoring the feel of Giovanni and the weight of him on her and in her. It was wonderful. Being with him was wonderful. She knew he didn’t love her, and would probably never love her, but in that moment she was happy, genuinely happy, and she laughed out loud, a bright quick gurgle of sound.
Gio lifted his head, looked down at her. “You’re laughing?”
“Yes.” She smiled up at him, feeling impossibly good, and so very relaxed. “I’m not a virgin anymore, am I?”
“No. Sorry, bella, you’ve been deflowered.”
“Thank God! It was about time.”
His expression turned wry. “I hope you mean thank God it was with me.”
“Well, of course. That, too.”
“Hmm.”
She snuggled close. “It was amazing, Gio. You were amazing. Thank you.”
Later, after their bodies had cooled, Gio kissed her, and then climbed from bed.
“I’ll send for coffee,” he said.
“Thank you,” she said, snuggling down under the covers. “I take it you’ll be in your office the rest of the day, doing your usual calls and meetings?”
He paused in the bathroom door, his body beautifully hard and muscular. “In meetings, yes, but these are meetings with you.”
“With me?” She propped herself up on one elbow. “Why are we having meetings?”
“I should say appointments. Today is the day we’re meeting with the journalist from the big UK magazine, the one that is doing the story on our wedding.”
Rachel’s smile began to fade. “Gio, not today. Not yet. We haven’t even discussed our wedding. We haven’t even really planned the engagement party.”
