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perate moan.
‘Yes. Santo, please—’
He held her there, just short of that place she wanted to go, until she would have done anything for the release she craved.
Just when she thought she couldn’t take it any longer, he moved, slowly at first, controlling the rhythm with ruthless precision, knowing exactly how to give her maximum pleasure.
At his urging, Fia wrapped her legs around his hips, arched against him and lost herself in the madness of it. And he lost himself too. Somewhere in the swirling pleasure she was aware that control had left him and instinct had taken over.
Her climax exploded, ripping through her whole body like a storm and she heard him utter a throaty groan before the spasms of her body drew him over the same edge.
Fia had never known pleasure like it. The pulsing heat of him accelerated her own excitement and she sobbed his name as she clung to him and rode out that storm.
Afterwards, he rolled onto his back, taking her with him. His eyes were closed. ‘I like bed sex.’
Fia felt dazed and stupid. ‘You made me beg.’
‘I made you? How?’ His eyes stayed closed. ‘Did I threaten you?’
She covered her eyes with her hand. ‘You know what I mean.’
‘You mean I gave you unimaginable pleasure.’ He tugged her hand away from her face, a wicked smile curving his sensuous mouth. ‘You’re welcome, tesoro.’
He was so sure of himself, so arrogantly confident in everything he did that it made her feel a thousand times worse. ‘I don’t want you to do that again,’ she blurted out, her face hot. ‘Sex is one thing, but when you do that—’
‘Do what?’
His eyes laughed into hers and she would have looked away but he caught her chin in his fingers so all she could do was glare at him.
‘You know what.’
‘Oral sex?’
She burned from head to foot. ‘I don’t want you to do it.’
‘Why? Because it makes you feel vulnerable? Good.’ His voice was a soft purr. ‘When you’re in my bed, I want you vulnerable. And it’s OK to tell me what you like, although if you’re really uncomfortable with that, that’s fine too because I don’t need your help to know when I’m turning you on.’
‘Because you’re such an expert, of course.’
‘You drew blood with your nails, angelo mia,’ he said drily. ‘That was a bit of a clue. And what is wrong with being an expert? You would prefer a man who fumbles?’
‘I cannot believe we’re having this conversation,’ she mumbled and he laughed, and rolled her under him again.
‘You are full of contradictions. Bold one moment and shy the next. Two women in one body.’ His tone suggestive, he slid his hand lower. ‘What more can a man ask for?’
* * *
Worn out by Santo’s demands and the violence of her own response, she slept late and then woke and panicked about Luca.
She sprang out of bed and sprinted along to his bedroom, only to be told by a besotted Gina that Santo had got his son dressed and given him breakfast before leaving for work.
‘He’s the perfect man,’ Gina said dreamily, ‘and you are so lucky.’
Fia ground her teeth. She didn’t feel lucky. She felt stupid and brainless. He only had to touch her and she turned into a quivering fool. True, he’d pinned her down so at the beginning she hadn’t had much choice, but by the end he wasn’t pinning her and had she slapped him? Had she told him to take his arrogant self and sleep somewhere else? No. She’d begged.
Returning to the bedroom, Fia sank back onto the tangled sheets and covered her face with her hands, utterly humiliated by the memory.
She’d begged. She’d fed his already overfed ego. She’d made him feel like a sex god.
