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His statement was accurate, but I was so clueless how to react that I remained stiff.
Until he swept his tongue inside, dominating mine as the kiss flew into a passionate roar of nearly desperate need. Then my body responded for me. I clung to him as if letting go would cause me to tumble into a dark abyss. He was rock hard, the feel of his thrumming cock pressing against my stomach sending a shockwave of electricity through every vein. Wetness dampened my panties, the scent of intense desire wafting between us.
He pulled me away from the edge of the counter, sliding his hand under my buttocks and lifting me off the floor by several inches. I wrapped one leg around his hip and tangled my fingers in his long shaggy hair, the dampness keeping my arm tingling. He spun me around, taking two long strides toward a massive kitchen island, using a single arm to rake across the surface.
As items tumbled to the floor, some clattering, others breaking, I was thrown by how intense the man had become.
There was an urgency about his actions, a need that was easy to see in the burning look in his eyes and his rough touches. Who was I to argue with a man who knew what he wanted and likely had the expertise to provide the moment of joy I was praying to find. I did what I could to relax as his tongue dominated mine, every sound he made adding to jolts of white-hot electricity.
When he broke the kiss this time, he lowered me onto the floor, pushing me against the edge of the island, dipping me at my waist then wrapping his fingers around my throat. He was so strong that he could snap my neck with a single twist of his wrist, but instead he rubbed his thumb back and forth across my jaw.
Then he lowered his head, issuing a series of husky growls, the rough timbre of his voice igniting another fire burning deep within. I kept one hand pushed against his chest as he dragged his tongue from one side of my jaw to the other. He was deliberate about every move he was taking, exploring carefully. Somehow, I knew that wouldn’t last.
When he bit down on my lower lip, I shuddered in his hold, fighting to keep my wits about me. The slice of pain was delicious, adding to the level of heightened passion. He continued his sensual exploration, sliding his tongue under my jaw to my neck. When he rolled the tip into the shell of my ear, I couldn’t stop a moan from escaping.
“I can’t wait to thrust my cock into your sweet pussy.”
Hunger laced every word, his heated breath skipping across my skin keeping quivers dancing throughout my body.
Seconds later, he pulled away completely, brushing the rough pads of his fingertips down my arms. Then without hesitation, he ripped the dress up and over my shoulders, the shock of his actions jarring. I’d seen men in my father’s employ peering at women, acting as if at a single crook of their finger the female would drop to her knees, eagerly opening her mouth and accepting a slimy, tiny dick.
The way Francesco was looking at me was entirely different, as if I’d rocked his world, bringing him to his knees. A warm flush scattered across my cheeks, leaving a stain on my skin. I couldn’t breathe or think, the realization of where I was and what I was about to do sizzling every one of my senses.
He took a deep breath, holding it for several seconds. When he blew it across my face and neck, I shuddered audibly. His chest rose and fell as he allowed his gaze to fall once again, whispering hoarse words of lust and need under his breath before allowing his eyes to settle on my naked breasts, nipples that were already rock hard.
I felt his explosive desire, another rapid jolt of electricity shooting through me like fireworks booming on a hot July evening. Another wave of embarrassment thrashed through me and I involuntarily threw my arm across my chest, turning my head.
He gripped my chin first, bringing my face toward him, shaking his head in clear admonishment while dragging his tongue across his luscious lips. “Never cover yourself from me, gorgeous girl. You are perfect in every way.” There was no way he could know how his words affected me, the intensity of his tone along with his truthful sentiment a delicious surprise and exactly what I needed.
I dropped my arm and within seconds, he cupped my breasts, gently kneading them as he rubbed his thumbs back and forth across my aching nipples. Within seconds, they were sensitive, my entire body trembling from the first moment of raw intimacy. I remained lightheaded, fighting the good girl inside of me to keep from reacting to his blissful touch. The good girl failed, the wicked woman inside of me longing to touch him.
And so I did.
I slid my hand down the length of his chest, daring myself to brush a single finger down the thick bulge in his trousers. As soon as I found the courage, his throaty growls added to the beautiful moment. I bit my lower lip to keep from giggling out of nervousness, even purring when I freely stroked him.
He chuckled, the dark sound penetrating my eardrums. “Touch and take, my sweet girl.”
The gorgeous hunk was giving me permission but somehow, I knew that whatever tiny amount of control he’d just allowed would be short-lived. A man like Francesco never gave up command. Still, I enjoyed the sinful moment while it lasted, rubbing my fingers up and down as I watched his expression shift from hunger to something darker, more primal in nature.
I had no doubt the man was going to devour me whole.
“So beautiful. Every inch of you is utter perfection.”
His words continued to thrill me even though my stomach remained in knots. The fact I’d never done anything like this before while I sensed he was a masterful lover kept my nerves on edge. I wasn’t certain if I should tell him I was a virgin, although if I did, it was possible he’d stop and that wasn’t what I wanted.
As he lowered his head, he kept his dark eyes locked on mine, the shimmer in both as hypnotizing as the scent of his masculinity was intoxicating.
No longer able to enjoy stroking his thick bulge, I tugged at his shirt instead, fighting with fumbling fingers to unfasten at least a few buttons. He wore no tie, whatever event he’d been attending more casual in nature, but I knew men’s attire very well, having selected several of my father’s expensive Italian suits. What Francesco was wearing cost more than most people made in a month, obviously tailored for him specifically, the deep charcoal linen unable to hide his insanely chiseled physique.
Yet I wanted nothing more than to rip off every inch of his clothing, exposing more of the tattoo I’d noticed on one side of his neck. I could only imagine the colorful ink and how the masterful art would add to his dangerous persona. I heard a slight purr coming from my throat and laughed nervously. He was every girl’s fantasy, a perfect alpha hero from my favorite romance novel. If I had a best friend, I’d be on the phone detailing every single second. It was too bad I’d yet to make a decent friend, my father’s reputation terrifying anyone who’d ever dare to get close.
“Are you hungry, little girl?”
I nodded instead of attempting to speak, fearful I’d sound as inexperienced as I was. To make a point, I yanked at the two sides of his shirt, shocked at my level of force as three buttons went flying. “Yes.”
“Mmm… Then allow me to help in your… endeavor.” His growl sent another series of vibrations all the way to my crimson painted toes. With a slight shift in his stance, he ripped off the crisp cotton by the back of the neck, yanking it over his broad shoulders with ease. When his perfect carved abs were exposed in the limited lighting positioned over the Viking stove, I couldn’t stop the appreciative moans from giving more of my desire away.
The tattoos were more than I’d imagined, the varying shades evident, several designs intricate. I couldn’t help myself, reaching out and running the tip of a single finger down the vine on his neck, swirling it around the strange-looking creature covering a portion of his chest. “Gorgeous.”
