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“The college roommate?”
“Yup.”
“Wow.”
He shrugs. “Nick lent it to me when I left my sister in Milan. Usually, he rents it to tourists.”
“Lucky you.” I walk back to the patio doors to join him. As beautiful as the house is, I’m not here to admire it.
The cool interior contrasts with the warmth of the sun outside. Beside me, Tristan is studying my face, an undecipherable expression in his intense blue eyes. He touches one hand to my arm, drawing his fingers slowly over my skin, which is warm, not only from the sun, but also from wanting him so much. I swallow.
“I’ve got lots of wine,” he says. “And some food.”
I shake my head. “Not now.” Then, without giving myself time to think, I rise on my tiptoes and place a kiss on his lips.
I won’t miss out on the chance to be with him because he’s leaving in a few days. Not when I want to drown myself in his touch.
Tristan only hesitates for a moment, then he’s kissing me back, his lips firm and soft at the same time. He tastes of sun and warmth and everything delicious about the Italian summer. He pulls me closer to his body and my breasts graze his chest, the contact sending an intense shock of desire through me.
When I let out a small moan, he catches my lower lip between his teeth, nipping gently. He draws his hands from my waist to the small of my back, then presses my body to his. I can feel the hard ridge of his arousal through our clothes. The ache between my legs returns, more intense than before, and suddenly I can’t wait to tear off every single item of clothing between us.
I flick my tongue over his lower lip, drawing my right hand between us to stroke him through his pants.
“Jesus!” He releases my lips and barks out a laugh. “Are you trying to make me come?”
“I think it’s only fair that I return the favor.” I hold his gaze and smile. “Where’s your bedroom?”
“Cora…”
Still looking into his eyes, I slip the straps of my dress off my shoulders, letting the patterned cotton fall to the ground in a pool around my feet. Then I undo my bra and drop it too. Tristan’s eyes drop to my breasts and fill with something like reverence mixed with unmasked desire. His throat works, and the knowledge that I affect him so much gives me a heady sense of power.
“Where’s your bedroom?” I repeat softly.
He reaches out and brushes his fingers over the curve of one breast, then his thumb flicks over my nipple, making the sweetly sensitive nub even harder. I expel a quick breath, and then he’s kissing me again, his mouth covering mine as his hands cup my breasts, squeezing gently, his fingers teasing the sensitive peaks until I can barely think.
Without warning, he scoops me up and carries me to his room, laying me on the bed before tearing off his clothes, shirt, pants, then his underwear. Soon he’s gloriously, beautifully naked, and I can’t take my eyes off him. His body is hard and muscled, the slabs of his flat stomach tapering in a hard plane of pure muscle toward his crotch and his thick, hard cock.
He joins me on the bed, pushing me back when I reach out to stroke him. Covering my body with his, he gives me a quick kiss on the lips before moving lower to take a nipple in his warm mouth. My body arches at the contact, and the sweet teasing of his lips and tongue. He cups my other breast and rolls the nipple between his fingers, making me moan with pleasure.
Arousal pools between my legs, sweet and tortuous at the same time.
“Tristan.”
“Hmm.” He meets my gaze while licking the underside of my breasts and I almost come right then.
“God, that feels so good.”
He grins and continues his journey downward, placing soft, fluttery kisses on my belly. “You. Haven’t. Seen. Anything. Yet,” he whispers, punctuating each word with a kiss.
He traces a path to my panties with his lips, then he hooks his fingers into the waistband, nudging down. I help him by lifting my hips, and he slips the fabric down my legs, then holds it up to his lips.
I chuckle. “Stop kissing my panties.”
“Never.” He laughs, then comes back to hover over me, parting my knees so there’s nothing between me and him. I pull in a breath, anxiety seeping into my arousal. As if he can tell, he places a kiss on my knee.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispers.
“Thank you.” I let out a shaky breath. “So are you.”
