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His gaze searched hers. ‘If you will try to trust me, mia bella,’ he whispered, ‘I will try to be patient. That is—until you tell me it is no longer necessary. Do you agree?’
For a moment, she was silent, then, knowing how unbearable any alternative might be, and knowing too that it was not him she could not trust, but herself, she gave a small, jerky nod.
There was another, longer pause and she thought she heard him sigh quietly, then he bent, kissing her forehead and her eyes before his lips found hers again, brushing them gently.
His hand touched her hair, following its silken fall, then moved to the slender curve of her shoulder, smoothing the delicate bone structure and stroking her skin as if he was calming a small, scared animal.
She wanted to resent it, but she couldn’t—not when she could feel the tension—the fear—ebbing away—changing under the sheer alchemy of his touch. When, if she was honest, she felt more like nestling closer to him, and purring. While somewhere, deep within her, she felt warm tendrils of excitement growing—spreading.
Zac slid his hands down her arms, spreading them wide, his lips exploring the hollow of an armpit, tracing the blue veins in the bend of her elbow, and the underside of her wrist where her pulse was racing, his fingers linking with hers, holding them as his mouth moved back to her throat, measuring its slender length in a trail of tiny kisses that lighted their own slow fire.
She bit back a little moan as sharp quivers of pleasure lanced through her entire being. Too sharp, she thought, too pleasurable but impossible to evade, even if she wished to do so, when his hands were still clasping hers at her sides, pressing them down into the mattress. Rendering her virtually helpless.
Dana felt herself sinking down into the bed, her breath quickening as his lips continued downwards until they reached the little valley between her breasts where he lingered for an endless moment, his cheek against the scented fullness he had uncovered.
Then, slowly and deliberately, he released her hands, but only so that his own fingers could drift teasingly across her hip bones, her belly, and upwards to her breasts, brushing their creamy swell with his palms while his fingertips, with infinite precision, circled her nipples, already engorged and aching for his touch. An erotic torment he seemed inclined to prolong endlessly.
This time, Dana could not suppress her whimper of longing—of desire as heat flared inside her, fierce and irresistible, forcing her to arch towards him.
‘Si, carissima.’ His voice was a husky whisper, his words a promise. He paid sensuous homage to the sweetness of her parted lips with the tip of his tongue, then bent to her breasts, cupping them, raising them to his mouth for unhurried adoration before taking one erect rosy peak between his lips and suckling it gently, making her body writhe in delicious agony as each stroke of his tongue sent the tide of arousal surging through her entire being.
He slid a hand down the length of her body, his warm tantalising fingers reaching under the rucked-up hem of her nightgown to caress her thigh, so desperately near to the hot, moist centre of her where she craved him, but not near enough.
Her body was in ferment with the frustration of pleasure withheld, melting, scalding with the need to know and be known. A harsh sob rising in her throat, she took his hand and carried it to the joining of her thighs as they slackened and parted to receive him for the first intimate exploration her body had ever experienced.
His touch was light but exquisitely, terrifyingly precise, gliding between the delicate folds of woman flesh to find the tiny sensitive nub they protected and caressing it slowly and rhythmically, coaxing it to become erect under the subtle, enticing play of his fingers. Dana heard her breathing change as her entire conscious being seemed to turn inward upon itself, concentrating blindly on sensations she had not realised could exist or that her starved body would ever feel.
Zac’s hand moved fractionally, traversing the slick wetness he’d created to allow his fingers to reach and gently penetrate the entrance to her vagina, pushing into her, then withdrawing. Inciting, then withholding. While, all the time, the ball of his thumb was continuing, intensifying its erotic stimulation of her tiny, swollen bud.
Gasping, Dana became aware of an odd stirring deep inside her as if a coiled spring was tightening endlessly.
She felt as if she was tottering on the edge of an abyss. That her entire inner self was gathering, preparing itself in some impossible way for a leap into the unknown.
She wanted to scream at him to stop because she couldn’t bear it—knowing that if he did stop she would die...
