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Silk and velvet. Crystal and gravel. And rich, like chocolate.
‘Nicola.’
Nobody had ever said her name that way before.Nee-co-la. Caressing the three syllables and making it sound incrediblysexy. Was that air from the open window fanning her face, or was it something else? Instinct told her it was breath and so did the impression of someone bending over her. How did you realise someone was so close, when your eyes were closed and they weren’t even touching you? Her lips seemed to be parting of their own accord and although afterwards she tried to tell herself she didn’t know what she was doing, Nicola knew exactly what she was doing. Her hands were reaching up to encounter Alessio’s shoulders and she gave a soft sigh of satisfaction as they made contact with the silk shirt covering his flesh. Because wasn’t this what she had wanted all along?
For a moment she kneaded the silk-coated muscle, before letting her fingertips drift to his face. With the edge of her thumb she traced the curve of his jaw before allowing it to drift to his upper lip. She heard him utter something indistinct as she outlined the sensual curve and then her heart almost leapt out of her chest because suddenly his mouth was on hers and he was kissing her.
Hungrily.
Frantically.
And she was kissing him back. Her mouth was opening wider to allow his tongue to move inside and Nicola felt as if she had been touched by flame. As if a million stars had exploded. Liquid heat flooded her sex as he deepened the kiss and she moaned with a sense of disbelief. Because although she had been kissed by men before, nothing could have prepared her forthis. This didn’t feel like a clumsy intrusion—this felt like heaven. She could feel the warm drench of desire. The painful prickling of her breasts. The sweet longing pulsing through her body was so insistent that she began to writhe her hips in silent invitation.
Take me, she thought desperately.Do what you want with me.And just in case he hadn’t got the message, she pressed her breasts against his chest and gave a little moan. And he responded. Pushing her back against the mattress, his hand moved to the front of her dress—undoing several of the buttons before slipping inside to her lacy bra. He didn’t even touch her bare skin. His thumb just brushed over her peaking nipple through the lace and Nicola nearly passed out.
It felt unbelievable.
Incredible.
His other hand was on her knee, tiptoeing towards her thigh. Against his lips, Nicola held her breath as an unfamiliar pulse began to beat and, instinctively, she tilted her hips, imploring him to go further. To touch her where she most needed to be touched.
But just as suddenly as it had started, it ended. He pulled away and the absence of his lips and his body felt shocking, as if she had been deprived of something essential, and she made a small sound of protest.
‘Open your eyes,’ he said roughly.
But Nicola didn’t want to. She wanted to keep them shut and carry on with what they were doing. She wanted to forget it was him and just enjoy the way he was making her feel.
‘Open your eyes,’ he said again, his voice even harsher.
What else could she do but obey that fierce command? Her lashes fluttered open to see his slashed features swimming in and out of focus. He must have been leaning over to wake her up when she had grabbed him, as if he were a lifeline. But he was clearly as affected as her by what had just happened. The pupils of his eyes were dilated, their wild blackness almost obscuring the bright blue.
‘I’m perfectly happy to carry on with what we’re doing, Nicola,’ he said, once he had steadied his breathing. ‘But I would prefer some kind of acknowledgement that it’s me who is making love to you.’ His eyes glittered—hard and bright. ‘I would hate to think you’re lying there fantasising about someone else. Particularly when you still haven’t even said my name.’
And in a way Nicola was grateful for his words, because they killed her desire stone-dead. She swallowed. Well...maybe notcompletelydead—but enough to allow common sense to replace the debilitating sense of longing which kept her anchored to the bed. She wished she had the energy to get up, but she didn’t. All she could do was lie there, heavy with heat and hunger as she tried to ignore the crazy pounding of her heart.
His words had made her angry, but his perception made her angrier still. No way had she been fantasising about anyone else—as if anyone else would ever get a look-in while Alessio di Bari had his tongue inside your mouth—but shehadbeen just letting it happen and hoping her lack of engagement would absolve her of responsibility for what she was doing.
Yet guilt and fear were powerful motivators and those were what sparked her response to him. ‘Wait a minute. I don’t think we should be doing this,’ she managed, her breath leaving her mouth in infuriatingly short little bursts, while the tingling sensation in her breasts was almost unbearable.
Straightening up, he raked his fingers back through his damp hair, his lips twisting with disdain. ‘All I did was try to wake you. As I recall, you were the one who eased me down towards your delicious lips and then lay there, just begging to be taken.’
His raw words were like a bucket of cold water to her senses. Nicola watched as he walked awkwardly towards the window as if something was obstructing his movement and a sudden rush of anxiety washed over her as she thought about what he’d said. Had she really made a pass at him? Grabbed him and forced him to kiss her? Oh, God.
‘I didn’t mean—’
‘Relax, Nicola, I’m just trying to take some of the heat out of the situation,’ he said, his voice tinged with mockery as he turned to look at her. ‘It was just one of those things, that’s all.’
She nodded. He made it sound inevitable. Did women always want to have sex with him? As she stared at his powerful body silhouetted against the lush green countryside outside the sharp tightening of her nipples gave her the answer. Of course they did.
‘It was?’ she managed huskily.
‘Of course. Or maybe it was my own fantasy, not yours,’ he conceded, his blue eyes glinting with a spark of unholy humour. ‘Waking sleeping beauty with a kiss.’
Nobody had ever called her beautiful before, nor described her lips as ‘delicious’, and Nicola was unsure whether to believe what he was saying. Probably safer not to. People paid you compliments when they wanted something, didn’t they? And there was nothing she wanted—or dared—to give him.
So don’t just lie there like a passive wuss.Dosomething.
Her prone position putting her at a distinct disadvantage, she rose from the bed with as much dignity as she could muster, smoothing down the crumpled skirt of her dress and tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear. ‘I don’t know what came over me,’ she said.
