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Her scream was everything a man could want, the cry of a woman swept away by passion.
He thrust into her again. And again. Harder and harder as she cried out in ecstasy.
“Draco,” she sobbed, “oh, sweet heaven, Draco …”
He shifted her weight, one powerful arm around her buttocks, one angled against her back, his hand in her hair so that his mouth could plunder hers.
He was relentless. Kissing her. Thrusting into her. She was panting, sobbing, riding him and riding him and he was going to come, Dio, he was going to come ….
Anna screamed.
And Draco exploded deep, deep inside her.
The world stood still.
After a very long time Anna drew a ragged breath. Her head fell forward onto Draco’s shoulder, and she buried her face against his throat.
Her heart felt as if it were trying to pound its way out of her chest, or was that racing beat his?
She sighed and closed her eyes.
He held her tight, and she all but purred.
“Wow,” she said in a shaky whisper. “That was—it was …”
Draco laughed softly. “Sì. It certainly was.” He hesitated. “It was not too quick?”
Anna lifted her head.
“You just want to hear me say ‘wow’ again.”
He grinned. “Perhaps. But I was too fast.”
“No. You weren’t. And if you keep apologizing, I won’t let you do this again.” Her lips curved in a wickedly sexy smile. “At least, I won’t let you do it more than another two or three dozen times.”
Laughter rumbled in his chest.
“Is that all?” he teased, and he swung her into his arms, carried her to the bed, tumbled onto it with her. “Sorry, Orsini. Twenty or thirty times isn’t
going to be enough.”
Anna looped her arms around his neck.
“You’re right,” she said softly. “It won’t be.”
Draco kissed her, his mouth moving slowly over hers. Then he drew back a little and looked at her.
Her hair, a beautiful tangle of gold, was spread over the pillow, just as he had imagined it. Her eyes were deep pools of violet-blue.
Her face glowed.
It pleased him to know that he, his lovemaking, was the reason for that glow.
“Bellissima,” he murmured, but she was more than beautiful. There was a wildness to her. She was exotic. Untamed. A feral cat that would purr only at the stroke of a special hand.
His hand.
“Draco. What are you thinking?”
