had said she was beautiful. Nico, the notorious playboy, the man she’d mooned after as a love-struck teenager, had just said she was beautiful. It was a dream come true in some ways.
She wanted to tell him that he was beautiful, too, but his mouth captured hers again, driving all thoughts from her head except one: need you now.
His mouth was questing, demanding, and she responded in kind, her heart hammering, her skin on fire as she tried to get closer to him. He gathered fistfuls of her skirts, shoved them up her hips so he could hook his fingers into her panties and push them down until gravity took over and they fell to her feet.
Tina was never so glad she’d not worn garters as she was at that moment. “Now, Nico,” she said against his lips. “Now.”
He guided her backward until she bumped into something. Before she could tell what it was, he lifted her and sat her down on a table. She was so focused on him that she had no idea where they were—dining room, kitchen, living room—and she didn’t care. All she cared about was this man and this moment.
Tina wrapped her legs around him as he pushed her thighs open and stepped between them. His hands were on her hips, holding her in place as their mouths fused again and again, their kisses drunken and hot and utterly addictive. She fumbled with his zipper, jerked it down with shaky fingers. And then her hands were in his trousers, freeing him.
He groaned as she wrapped her hand around him, slid her palm along his hot, velvety shaft. He shoved her skirts higher and pulled her hands away from his body. She made a sound of disappointment, but a moment later she felt the blunt head of his penis pressing into her and every last thought flew out of her mind.
He cupped her bottom, tilting her backward slightly before he thrust deeply inside her—it wasn’t a sudden movement, but it was overpowering in its intensity. One moment she was craving him, the next he’d filled her. Tina cried out in surprise and pleasure, and his entire body stilled.
“Have I hurt you?” His voice was rough.
Yes, she wanted to say. Yes.
But the pain wasn’t physical. “No. Please don’t stop.”
His laugh was ragged. “Stop? Not possible, tesoro. Not possible.” He leaned forward and kissed her again, and she could feel his body pulsing inside hers. Had it been this exciting the first time? Had she wanted him so desperately that she’d been willing to do anything to have him?
Possibly, but it didn’t matter. This was what mattered. Now, when he was inside her, his entire being focused on her. He was the kind of man who knew how to make a woman’s body sing, and she knew this night would be even better than the first because she wasn’t as naive as before. Because she knew what to expect—and she craved it.
Craved him.
Tina didn’t want to let him go, as if she would wake up and find it had all been a dream if she did. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her body bending into him as he began to move. Their tongues tangled as he stroked into her with such skill she wanted to weep.
She knew he tried to be gentle, but it wasn’t really possible.
For either of them. They were joined together with no barriers between them this time—and they’d waited for two long months to be in this place again, though they did not know it was what they’d been waiting for.
Nico pushed her back until she was supporting herself on her hands, her back arching, her breasts thrusting into the air for his pleasure. His lips closed over an aroused nipple, spiking the pleasure within her until she wasn’t certain she could hold out another second.
“Nico,” she gasped, her senses filled with him.
Deep within her, the explosion began to build. His lovemaking was raw, powerful, almost desperate, as if he’d held back for far too long and even now perched on the edge of his control. His fingers dug into her hips as he held her hard and drove into her.
Tina dragged her eyes open to look at him, to look at the picture they made. He bent over her body, the ruins of his shirt clinging to his broad shoulders. His skin glistened with moisture and she lifted a hand to rake it through his hair. He dragged his mouth across her breasts then, his lips closing around her other nipple. Tina clasped his head to her with a soft moan, loving the sharp, sweet spike of pleasure that tugged at her. Her breasts were so much more sensitive than they’d been only a few weeks ago, and she cried out as his tongue swirled and teased and tormented.
He drove her relentlessly, almost savagely, until she shattered with a sharp cry, her entire body clenching with the force of her orgasm. Her legs tightened around him, as if she was afraid he might try to leave her.
But he didn’t leave. And he didn’t stop, gripping her buttocks in his hands and lifting her to him until the new angle made her breath catch once more.
“Again,” he said, the muscles in his neck and chest and abdomen corded tight as he held her up and drove into her.
Tina lay back on the table, her arms over her head in helpless surrender, her eyes closed as she pushed her hips up to meet him. She was a creature of pleasure now, a being who existed for this alone. He came down on top of her, the fabric of her dress rustling, no doubt wrinkling hopelessly.
She didn’t care.
He dominated her with the strength of his body, and she wrapped her legs high around his back, tears squeezing from her closed eyes to leak down her temples and into her hair.
It was too beautiful, too perfect to be with him like this. He destroyed her. And she was far happier than she should be.
“Tina,” he groaned. “Dio, don’t cry.”
He threaded his fingers through hers, his mouth seeking hers once more. He kissed her far more sweetly than she’d thought he was capable of at that moment. Fear swirled in her belly then. Everything about being with him felt right—but did he feel it, too, or was this simply the consummate ladies’ man doing what he did best?
Tina squeezed her eyes tighter. She couldn’t think like that. She simply couldn’t. They were married now and they had a child on the way. He was hers.
And, oh, God, that’s just what she’d wanted, wasn’t it? She wanted him to belong to her—had from the first moment he’d walked into their tiny kitchen with Renzo and smiled at her. He’d been so strong and handsome and perfect—and she’d been shy, awkward and unworthy of ever getting such a man, even in her wildest dreams.
He raised his head, as if he sensed the turmoil in her heart. “You’re thinking too much,” he said gruffly. “Stop thinking.”
And then he made it impossible for her to think as he thrust into her again and again, harder and harder, until she caught fire, until her body shattered in a million bright shards of color and her breath tore from her in a long, broken cry.
She was still gasping and reeling when he followed her into oblivion, holding her tightly to him, his hips grinding into her one last time as a deep shudder racked him.
Her heart throbbed in the silence, filling her ears with the sound of her blood rushing through her sensitized body. Tina put her hand in his hair, held him to her as he buried his face against her neck. His hair was damp, hot, and his breath ghosted over her heated skin, cooling her.
