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“Oh, isn’t it beautiful?”
Luca wasn’t watching the thunderstorm. His eyes were fixed on Rosie’s face. The night sky gave her a luminescence, the lightning simply seemed to make her face glow.
“Very,” he agreed quietly. To hell with patience. He moved to stand behind her and pulled her back against his chest. His arms he wrapped loosely around her waist. She hesitated for a microsecond, and then relaxed against him. He was pleased. He had needed a more intimate contact from the moment he’d seen her. Up close, her hair smelled like coconut.
Rosie fought the temptation to angle her head and kiss him. They’d just met! But being in his arms was making her body sing in a wholly different key. The rational part of her brain was screaming at her that she was behaving stupidly, but she ignored it. So what if she let a man she’d just met put his arms around her? Most of the women her age were running around in nightclubs doing far worse, far quicker. At least she knew his name.
She was twenty four, not fourteen. If she thought a man was attractive, she had every right to act on it. Didn’t she?
Luca lowered his head and pressed his lips against her neck. It felt good. So good that Rosie moaned softly into the night air. “Luca,” she whispered, but she pressed her body back further, into the hard planes of his. “This is crazy.”
“What is crazy?” His accent was thicker now. More noticeable.
Uncertainty plagued her. “This.” She spun around in the circle of his arms so that she could see his face. It was a mistake. Looking at him made all her doubts fizz into nothingness.
“Is it really crazy?” He wondered, moving his hand so that he could cup her face. “Doesn’t it just feel right?”
It did. Completely. “Yes.”
His eyes flared wide as he lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers. A kiss of acceptance, nothing more. Her mouth was just as soft beneath his as he’d known it would be. He moved his mouth, probing hers so that her lips parted, and he was able to flick her tongue with his own. She moaned again, that sweet little sound that set his body on fire. She was perfect.
Even in his thick fog of desire, he was mindful of the fact that there were hundreds of people milling about on the other side of a glass wall. He wrapped his arms more tightly around her waist and lifted her feet from the ground, without breaking their kiss.
She did that, pulling her head away in surprise. “What are you doing?” She asked breathlessly, as he carried her across the balcony to a corner that was met by concrete walls rather than glass.
“Privacy,” he muttered, placing her feet on the ground and reclaiming her lips. “Better?”
“Yes, better.”
His stubble was rough on her face, and she didn’t care. If anything, it set her whole body on fire. Her nerves were over sensitised, her nipples taut against the yellow fabric of her dress. And he understood. He lifted his hands to cup her breasts, running his thumbs over the sensitive flesh, while his mouth moved to her neck, tasting and flicking the skin of her décolletage.
Rosie ran her fingers through his hair, as she’d been longing to do all night. It was coarse and thick. She tilted her head back on a sigh, arching her body forwards. He ran his hands from her breasts, down the flat plane of her stomach, and then moved to cup her bottom.
“This dress,” he said with frustration. It was too fitted to easily lift, and he wanted to see her. He wanted to feel her.
At last, common sense penetrated his brain. He pulled away from her, straightening his tuxedo and trying to calm his breathing. “Rosie, if we don’t stop now, I am going to make love to you right here.”
Rosie was not naturally careless, but in that instant, she’d had a personality transplant. “Would that be so bad?”
His dark eyes narrowed. “No. It would be very, very good. Except that anyone might come out and see us.” That, and the fact that she deserved better. He reached behind her and found the top of her zip. He eased it down, keeping his eyes locked on hers. “Let me show you what I mean.” He lowered the dress, just low enough so that her breasts spilled over the top.
He couldn’t resist cupping them in their naked splendour. He took each in the palm of his hands, feeling them, relishing their weight and shape. Then, he took one nipple into his mouth. She bucked against him in surprise and pleasure, but he didn’t stop. He rolled the aureole in his mouth until she was finding breathing difficult. His fingers toyed with the other, circling it, squeezing, teasing.
“Luca,” she cried out, as waves of pleasure began to tear through her. “Luca!”
He nodded. “I understand.” He transferred his mouth to her other nipple. Rosie gripped his lapels in her fists, moaning as she felt her pleasure build and build.
Finally, Luca lifted his head, pressing his forehead to hers. “I want to take all night to pleasure your body, Rosie. Not a hurried session on a public balcony, while you have a date inside nursing your drink.”
“Oh.” His words were simply honest, but Rosie sensed there was a cruel edge to them. She blinked, confusion swamping her. “I… Oh.”
Luca cursed. “I do not mean to sound abrupt. The problem is, I’m fighting my own nature too. I want you. Very much. But I suspect you’ll never forgive yourself, or me, if I don’t take control of the situation. If we do what we both want, you’ll blame me.”
She nodded. He was right. Completely right. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“I’ll go back inside to my date and that drink.”
