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Feeling bold, she nipped at his skin.
His responding growl was intoxicating. As was the feeling of being pressed against the hard, masculine planes of his body when he slowly lowered her to her feet.
‘I’ve waited so long to be inside you. I won’t wait any longer,’ he vowed, the words fierce, stamped with decadent intent.
Arms clamped around her waist, he walked her backwards to the vast white-sheeted bed. In one clean move, he pulled her dress over her head and dropped it. Her bra and panties swiftly followed.
Zaccheo stopped breathing as he stared down at her exposed curves.
As he’d done on the plane, he circled her body, this time trailing more fingers over her heated skin, creating a fiery path that arrowed straight between her thighs. She was swaying under the dizzying force of her arousal by the time he faced her again.
‘Beautiful. So beautiful,’ he murmured against her skin, then pulled her nipple into his mouth, surrounding the aching bud with heat and want.
Eva cried out and clutched his shoulders, her whole body gripped with a fever that shook her from head to toe. He moved his attention to her twin breast while his fingers teased the other, doubling the pleasure, doubling her agony.
‘Zaccheo,’ she groaned.
He straightened abruptly and reefed his black T-shirt over his head, exposing hard, smooth pecs and a muscle-ridged stomach. But as intensely delectable as his torso was, it wasn’t what made her belly quiver. It was the intriguing tattooed band of Celtic knots linked by three slim lines that circled his upper arm. The artwork was flawless and beautiful, flowing gracefully when he moved. Reaching out, she touched the first knot. He paused and stared down at her.
It struck her hard in that moment just how much she didn’t know about the man she’d married.
‘You seem almost nervous, dolcezza.’
Eva struggled to think of a response that wouldn’t make her sound gauche. ‘Don’t you feel nervous, even a little, your first time with a new lover?’ she replied.
He froze and his lips compressed for a fraction of a second, as if she’d said something to displease him. Then his fingers went to his belt. ‘Nerves, no. Anticipation that a long-held desire is about to be fulfilled? Most definitely.’ He removed his remaining clothes in one swift move.
Perfection. It was the only word she could think of.
‘Even when you’ve experienced it more than a few dozen times?’
She gasped when his fingers gripped hers in a tight hold. When he spoke, his voice held a bite that jarred. ‘Perhaps we should refrain from the subject of past lovers.’
Hard, demanding lips slanted over hers, his tongue sliding into her mouth, fracturing the last of her senses. She clung to him, her body once again aflame from the ferocious power of his.
Cool sheets met her back and Zaccheo sprawled beside her. After an eternity of kissing, he raised his head.
‘There are so many ways I wish to take you I don’t know where to begin.’
Heat burst beneath her skin and he laughed softly.
‘You blush with the ease of an innocent.’ He trailed his hand down her throat, lingering at her racing pulse, before it curved around one breast. ‘It’s almost enough to make me forget that you’re not.’ Again that bite, but less ferocious this time, his accent growing thicker as he bent his head and tongued her pulse.
She jerked against him, her fingers gliding over his warm skin of their own accord. ‘On what basis do you form the opinion that I’m not?’ she blurted before she lost her nerve.
He stilled, grey eyes turning that rare gunmetal shade that announced a dangerously heightened emotional state. His hand abandoned her breast and curled around her nape in an iron grip. ‘What are you saying, Eva?’ His voice was a hoarse rumble.
She licked nervous lips. ‘That I don’t want to be treated like I’m fragile...but I don’t wish my first time to be without mercy either.’
He sucked in a stunned breath. ‘Your first... Madre di Dio.’ His gaze searched hers, his breathing growing increasingly erratic.
Slowly, he drew back from her, scouring her body from head to toe as if seeing her for the first time. He parted her thighs and she moved restlessly, helplessly, as his eyes lingered at her centre. Stilling her with one hand, he lowered his head and kissed her eyes, her mouth, her throat. Then lower until he reached her belly. He licked at her navel, then rained kisses on her quivering skin. Firm hands held her open, then his shoulders took over the job. Reading his intention, she raised her head from the pillow.
