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It was a feather-light kiss. But then his mouth fused with hers and she whimpered
softly as he moved his tensile muscular body over her.
Gripping his hips, she stretched out beneath him. He entered her slowly, giving her time to adjust, inching forward in time with her soft sighs of pleasure. But she needed him now—all of him—and she arched upward, pressing herself against the smooth, polished heat of his skin, wrapping her legs around his hips.
She was already aroused, and soon she was growing dizzy, intoxicated by the hard, steady rhythm of his body. A moan of pleasure climbed in her throat, and then a fierce heat blossomed inside her as her muscles tightened around him and she let go in time to his thrust of release.
* * *
Later—much later—they sat outside beneath the canopy of wisteria, enjoying a late brunch on the terrace.
‘What are you thinking?’ Vicè asked.
Turning, Imma smiled. He was staring at her across the table, his dark eyes fixed on her face.
Her pulse skipped. The shock of his beauty never seemed to fade. Any other man would have been eclipsed by the decadent glamour of the Dolce, but in his cream linen trousers, short-sleeved shirt and loafers, he looked like a poster playboy for the Italian Riviera.
With effort, she pulled her gaze away to the view past his shoulder, where huge white yachts floated serenely on an aquamarine sea. ‘I was thinking how lucky you are.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘That’s crazy—so was I.’
Smiling, she glanced past him at the panorama below. ‘You have such a beautiful view here.’
‘No, that’s not what’s beautiful here,’ he said softly.
She shook her head. ‘Do you ever stop?’
‘You made me, remember?’ He rolled his eyes. ‘You said we had to eat food. Or get dressed or something...’
Their eyes met. She and Vicè had taken a shower together. Her cheeks felt suddenly warm. At first they had just washed one another, but then the soap had got dropped, and then he had shown her other, more inventive and thrilling ways to pass the time beneath the warm, tumbling spray.
‘Somebody was knocking at the door. You were naked.’
‘It was Matteo,’ he protested. ‘And he’s seen me naked hundreds of times...’ He paused. ‘You know, at the orgies.’
Her mouth dropped open. ‘The orgies—’
‘At the hotel. Surely you’ve read about them?’
He was grinning.
‘Oh, very funny, Vicè.’
He got up, moving smoothly around the table to grab her, laughing softly when she tried to bat him away.
‘Cara, come on. I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it. You just look so sexy when you’re outraged.’
‘I wasn’t outraged. I was—’
‘Jealous?’
His dark eyes were watching her intently and she felt her pulse jump.
She lifted her chin. ‘Curious.’
‘Well, you’re going to have to stay curious, I’m afraid,’ he said softly, and his calm tone was at odds with the slight tightening of his jaw. ‘You’re mine, and I’m not about to share you with anyone.’
Leaning forward, he kissed her fiercely, parting her lips to deepen the kiss until her head was spinning.
