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I pressed into the mattress, pulling away from the sensations, a tiny frisson of fear fluttering in my belly. All I knew was vanilla sex. Canned whipped cream and a small pink lipstick vibrator were as daring as Henry got. I had a feeling I was in over my head. Before the panic could take hold, Alessio gripped my chin gently between his thumb and forefinger, a galaxy of emotion in his eyes.
“Trust me,bella.”
I surrendered. To the unknown. To the passion. To the man.
“Va bene.”
He launched off the bed and stripped the sheet away, digging into the top drawer of his wardrobe. My leg bent reflexively, an attempt at modesty he laughed away, tugging my left ankle to the corner of the bedframe, lashing it to the bedframe with a silk tie. He did the same to my other leg, leaving me exposed. He’d seen, tasted, and caressed every part of me, but the restraints and inability to shield myself added a sharp layer of vulnerability.
Instead of rejoining me on the mattress, he prowled the edge of the bed, my eyes following each leonine movement of his fine naked form. He ran his finger along the bottom of my foot, from heel to toe, smirking when he found where I was ticklish. Cocked his head and considered the display between my thighs. My focus mimicked his, my body zeroing in on the growing dampness and pulsing need there. Finally, he sat on the edge of the bed next to my hip, my breasts quivering when the mattress dipped.
“Ah, I could watch your tits jiggle all day.” He bounced a few more times before standing again, sighing dramatically when I blushed. “Women will never understand men’s appreciation for…this.” He swept his hand in a grand gesture.
Soft as a feather, he trailed his fingertips over my skin. The tender underside of my arms. The column of my neck. The curve of my ear. The valley between my breasts. The indent of my navel. The back of my knees. Each stroke heightened my awareness, driving a need both mental and physical.
Frustration corkscrewed through me, and I pulled at the restraints. In escalating our playful carnal antics to something darker, edgier, Alessio promised the encounter would bemore.A deeper connection. A better orgasm. Just…more.
“Mmm, she grows impatient.” He stood in a shaft of the sunlight, legs slightly apart, and curled his fingers around his shaft, leisurely stroking the rigid length, as if his own desire was negligible.
I resisted the lure, keeping my eyes above his waist. I adored the elegant architecture of his chest and shoulders. The symmetry of his collar bones. Smooth olive-skinned pecs and muscled abdomen. The furrow of dark hair centered between inguinal creases that drew my gaze right…there. I licked my lips, remembering the salty taste, the velvety skin, the guttural sounds my mouth wrung from him.
“Tut tut.” He waggled a finger in disapproval. “Your juices are leaking. I would not allow such waste ifvinowere leaking from one of the barriques in our cellar, and your wine is even more precious.”
Slinking between my legs, he thumbed my folds apart, an approving hum vibrating through me where his shoulders nudged my thighs wider.
I squeezed my eyes shut and clenched my muscles, anticipating a ferocious oral onslaught. He breathed in and out, warm, humid breath cooling on my skin, then warming again. I squirmed, already acquainted with his marvelously talented tongue, anxious to feel its broad sweep from bottom to top.
He gave me the tip, delicately tracing the edges of my labia as if drawing a fine ink masterpiece. There was just enough pressure to taunt me, far from enough to relieve the ache building in the cradle of my pelvis.
I tried to be patient, really, but he was taking too damn long to get down to business.
“Lick me right, ’Lessio.” I tilted my hips, begging him for more. “I need to come. Now!”
“It’s not a race,bella.” He chuckled. “Not a task to be completed and checked off your to-do list. I’m making love to you, not servicing you like a stallion.”
He stilled, the abrupt switch from languid to unmoving disorienting. Raising his head to look at me, his expression shifted from incredulity to anger. “No! It cannot be.”
All of my senses—my emotions, too—were on overload. I didn’t understand.
“This Henry, your spineless turd, he never made love with you?” Alessio was outraged. He pushed himself up onto his elbows. “You do not even know what making love is!”
“Are you judging my bedroom skills?” Mortified, I tugged at my bindings earnestly.
“Amore mio, calm yourself.” He braced himself over me, kissing my face and neck and cheeks until I quieted. “You are a goddess in all ways. Even in ‘the sack.’” He enunciated the slang, another attempt to reassure me.
“Making love is…oh, I cannot find the words.” He rested his forehead on mine. “It is a tribute. It is heart to heart. I show you what is inside my soul with every touch. Everycarezza. I do not rush, and I do not take my own pleasure because I am loving you.Fare l’amore. Making love.”
Alessio was loving me. Yes, I realized it was not the same as falling in love or being in love, but this man I’d known a bare weeklovedme more than Henry ever had.
“I make the love. You accept the love.” He kissed me chastely on the mouth before settling between my legs again, his mouth and fingers already engaged.
“Then we switch?” I jested, blinking to keep the tears at bay.
“Si,bella.Now you understand.”
And I did.
Chapter Nine - Elle
