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Well, except for sex. He clearly wanted her badly.
And what was wrong with making herself feel feminine and powerful for an interlude? After all, it wasn’t as if she was giving up something. Except she risked falling for him.
The pent-up desire that she’d been feeling these weeks and refusing to acknowledge slipped from its shackles. Rick drove her crazy, and it was a thin line between being irritated and jumping his bones. Giving in meant easing some of the frustration, and suddenly nothing else mattered.
Seeming to read the assent in her eyes, Rick slowly took off her clothes, tossing the pieces aside one by one onto nearby furniture and peeling away her defenses to find what was in no way artifice. Then he shed some of his own clothes until they were both down to underwear.
She shivered as the cool air hit her.
“Let me warm you up,” he muttered.
She wanted to say he already had, and that that was the problem. She was melting, her defenses flowing away like so much ice under a hot sun.
Chiara stepped out of the clothes pooled at her feet. Clad in just a lacy black bra and the barest slip of underwear, she had no mask. But if she felt nervous, the naked appreciation stamped on Rick’s face put an end to it. She straightened her shoulders, and the resulting movement thrust her breasts forward, their peaks jutting against their thin covering.
Rick’s face glowed with appreciation, and then he muttered what he wanted to do with her, his prominent arousal testimony to his words. Waves of heat washed over her, and she sucked in a breath.
He stepped forward, and when the backs of her legs hit the sofa, she let herself fall backward, bracing herself with one hand on a pillow. Rick followed, bent and took one of her nipples in his mouth through her bra, fabric and all, suckling her gently.
Chiara gasped, a strangled sound caught in her throat, and need shuddered through her. Her head fell back when he pushed aside her bra and transferred his attention to her other breast. She was awash in sensation, the universe popping with a kaleidoscope of color.
Rick knelt, pulled her to the end of the sofa arm so that her legs straddled it, and then pushed aside her underwear to use his mouth to love her some more. Cries of pleasure were ripped from her throat...and she felt herself splintering—until she bucked against him with her release.
Afterward, Rick straightened and shed his underwear like a man posse
ssed. Watching him, Chiara stood up and did the same, her remaining garments melting away.
Rick suddenly cursed. “Damn it. Protection is still packed in my suitcase.”
“I’m on contraception,” she said throatily, dizzy with want.
His gaze caught with hers. “I want you to know I’ve gotten a clean bill from my doctor. I would never put you at risk.”
She licked her lips. “Same goes for me.”
They looked at each other for a moment, neither moving, savoring this moment.
And then Chiara held her hand out to him. “We’re not going to make it to the bed, are we?”
He gave her a lopsided smile. “Stuntmen can do it everywhere.”
Chiara followed his gaze to the nearby long leather ottoman, which doubled as a coffee table. Oh. As she bent to sit on it, Rick followed her down, giving her a long, sweet, lingering kiss.
When she embraced him, he entered her in one fluid movement, rocking her to her core. Joined to him, Chiara gave herself up to sensation, following the pace that Rick set.
When she felt Rick tighten, nearing his climax, she ran her hands over his ripped arms and bit back a moan.
“Let me hear you,” Rick said as the air grew thick with their deep breathing.
“Rick, oh...now.”
And just like that, as he thrust deep, Chiara felt herself coming apart again, dazed with her release.
Rick gave a hoarse shout and buried himself in her, collapsing into her embrace.
Chiara had never felt so at one with someone...exposed and yet secure.
* * *
