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As if it might be the very last time she would ever make love to him...
Slowly, she moved her naked body over his, her lips caressing the strong column of his throat, to seek and find what she yearned for. The answering softness of his mouth as it yielded, with another low groan in his throat, to her kisses.
She felt his hands come around her waist, guiding her over him as her breasts made contact with his chest, pressing her down on him as her thighs slid across his. Another groan broke from him and she could feel his arousal strengthen. It called to her own arousal, and she felt her breath quicken, her pulse quicken, her longing for him overwhelming her.
Their kisses deepened, their mouths opening to each other as his hands tightened around her waist. She moved her hips slowly, sensually, knowing she was increasing his arousal, loving how strong he was, how fully engorged. She felt her own body answer in kind, the delicate tissues of her femininity moistening. Instinctively, she parted her thighs, slackening them, positioning herself over him, lifting just a little to catch him and guide him into her waiting, aching body.
His moan matched hers and her hands splayed either side of his head, her back arching to take him, oh, so fully into her. Her need for him was absolute, and only with him was her completion possible.
She moved over him rhythmically and his thighs, so taut and hard beneath hers, strained as he thrust himself up into her. His hands were like a vice around her waist now, splayed out over the roundness of her hips, holding her to him exactly where he wanted her to be, needed her to be—where she needed to be, ached to be. The only place in all the world.
Her body fused with his, taking him as she gave herself, as her arousal intensified, matching him movement for movement, knowing that the release that would soon come for him and for her would be...
Glorious.
A radiance of sensation that was so intense it was unbearable blossomed inside her and she cried out, her head falling back, her hair streaming down her back as her body surged with his, melting, dissolving into ecstasy.
She was his!
Oh, she was his he was hers.
They were one—one flesh, one union, one body, one pulsing, beating heart...
She dropped to him, a sob breaking from her, hands clutching him, holding him closer and yet closer still. She could still feel him throbbing inside her as the waves of her own body continued to pulse gently, holding him tightly inside her.
Slowly, so very, very slowly, the passion ebbed from them both, slackening their bodies, leaving them fulfilled and completed. Their closeness now was the closeness of limbs suddenly heavy and torpid, exhaustion fusing them one to the other. Her hands slipped to his arms, curving around his biceps, and her cheek rested on his shoulder.
She felt his hands slide down to rest on her flanks. His mouth grazed her lowered brow so lightly, his voice, low and drowsy, murmured her name. And then, her eyelids heavy...so heavy...sweet, embracing sleep drew her down into its consoling peace.
Dante heard his phone bleep and reached for it. Who the hell was calling him at this time of night, when all he wanted to do, in his sated post-coital state, was sleep through till morning?
When he saw the caller ID he groaned, but accepted the call, levering himself out of bed and padding across to the far side of the room so as not to disturb Connie. The conversation was blessedly brief, but the outcome far from welcome.
Swiftly, and deeply reluctantly, he set a low-volume alarm on his phone and headed back to bed, enfolding Connie in his arms. It was the place he liked her to be, with her soft body embraced by his.
Sleep swept over him again until, still at an ungodly early hour, his alarm went off. It didn’t wake Connie, and he was glad as he levered himself totally unwillingly from their bed and went into the en suite bathroom for as swift a shower and shave as he could manage.
Quickly dressed, he crossed back to the bed and Connie’s sleeping form. For a few precious seconds he gazed down at her in the soft light thrown from the bathroom.
How truly beautiful she was! Every time he looked at her he wondered at how she’d concealed such loveliness from him for so long. He loved everything about her—from the way her hair curled over her rounded shoulder to the way her eyelashes dusted her soft cheeks...the way her lips, slightly parted as she breathed steadily in slumber, were tempting him even now to brush a kiss upon their velvet contours.
But, damn it, just when she looked so alluring—so embraceable—just when he’d been looking forward to another lotus-eating day with her, relaxed and leisurely, wandering around Rome, now he was going to have to do without her.
Accidenti.
He let his mouth touch hers, just for the briefest moment, and then he lifted away, gently rocking her shoulder as he did.
Her eyes fluttered open, fastening to his. For a second he saw something flare in their depths and then retreat into shadow. Alarm, probably, at him waking her like this, fully clothed, at such an early hour.
His tone apologetic, he broke the bad news to her. ‘I have to fly to Geneva to see a client. It’s a total pain, but I can’t get out of it. I’m taking the earliest flight out.’ He made a face. ‘I’ll be back in time for dinner, so... Look, have an easy day, OK? Lounge around the hotel or get the concierge to put a limo at your disposal. I’ll see you this evening.’
He dropped another, even swifter kiss on her mouth, burningly conscious that he was cutting it very fine to make it to Fiumicino for his flight.
‘Mi dispiace molto—’
And he was gone, striding out of the room, heading for the lift banks, wanting the flight over, the day over, and the evening to come, so he could get back to where he wanted to be.
Here.
