‘Are you sure this is what you want, cara?’ he asked in a husky tone. ‘We do not have to continue with this if you do not feel ready.’
Claire moistened her passion-swollen lips as she held his gaze. ‘I’m not sure about anything,’ she said. ‘I can’t seem to put two thoughts together in my head when you are around.’
His wry smile was intoxicatingly sexy. ‘Then maybe we should not think, but instead concentrate on feeling,’ he said, moving his hand to the zipper at the back of her dress and slowly but surely sliding it down until the satin pooled at her feet.
Claire felt her breath catch as his dark gaze ran over her, taking in her naked breasts, the flat plane of her stomach, the slight flare of her hips and the tiny black lace panties she was wearing.
Her breathing almost stopped altogether when he trailed a fingertip down between her breasts, circling each one before he bent his head and took each tightly budded nipple in his mouth. It was torture and pleasure rolled into one, and the sparks of fiery need shooting up and down her spine at the rasp of his tongue made every rational thought fly out of her head.
He lifted his head and, locking his gaze on hers, sent his fingertip down to the cave of her belly button, and then lower, tracing over the cleft of her body through the lace that shielded her. ‘Take them off,’ he commanded in a toe-curling tone.
Claire kicked off her heels and peeled off the tiny lace garment, her heart kicking in excitement as he began to undress. Becoming impatient, she helped him with the buttons of his shirt, stopping every now and again to press a hot, moist kiss to his chest, then lower and lower, until she came to the waistband of his trousers.
He shrugged his shirt off and stood with his thighs slightly apart as she undid his belt, pulling it through the loops until it joined her dress on the floor.
She heard him draw in a breath as her fingers pulled down his zipper, and then she felt him jerk in awareness when she peeled back his underwear to touch him skin on skin.
He was like satin-covered steel under her fingertips, and so aroused he was seeping with moisture. She blotted it with her fingertip and then, lifting her eyes to his, brought her finger up to her mouth and sucked on it.
‘Dio. you are driving me crazy,’ he growled, as he heeled himself out of his shoes, his trousers and underwear landing in the same heap as his belt and her dress.
Claire drew in an uneven breath as he walked her backwards towards the bed, his hands on her hips, the heated trajectory of his body setting her alight all over again. She could smell his arousal, the hint of salt and musk that was as intoxicating as the notes of citrus she could pick up from his aftershave.
‘Tell me to stop, Claire, otherwise I will not be able to,’ he groaned as his mouth brushed against hers.
She linked her arms around his neck, pushing her pelvis against his. ‘I don’t want you to stop,’ she said in a breathless whisper. ‘It’s been such a long time…’
‘You are right about that,’ he said as he eased her down on the bed, his eyes devouring her all over again before he joined her. ‘It has been far, far too long.’
Claire shivered as his long, strong legs brushed against her smooth ones. The arrant maleness of him had always made her heart race with excitement. The hardness of his body against her dewy softness made her feel light-headed with anticipation. She arched her spine in invitation, aching for him to pin her body with his, to drive her towards the paradise she craved.
‘Not so fast, cara,’ he said, stroking his hands over her belly, thrillingly close to where she pulsed for him. ‘You know how it was between us before. It was always much more intense when we took our time.’
Claire sucked in a breath as he bent his head to her breasts, his mouth and tongue inciting her passion to an almost unbearable level. The hot trail of his kisses continued down her sternum to the tiny dish of her belly button, and then over the faint stretchmarks on both of her hips, before moving to the throbbing core of her body. Her breath skidded to a halt in her chest as his fingers gently separated her, the tender, honeyed flesh opening to his stroking touch. He set a slow but tantalising rhythm, each movement bringing her closer and closer to the release she could feel building and building inside her. Then she was there: her back lifting off the bed, her senses soaring out of control, as wave after wave of ecstasy smashed over her, rolling her, tossing and tumbling her, until she felt totally boneless, limp with satiation.
Claire reached for him, her fingers circling his hardness before she slithered down to brush her mouth against him. She felt a shudder go through him when she traced him with the point of her tongue. He was still in control—but only just. His breathing was choppy and uneven, each and every one of his muscles taut with tension as she drew him into her mouth, tasting him, tantalising him with the butterfly caress of her tongue.
‘No,’ Antonio growled suddenly, and pulled her away. ‘I want to come inside you. I have waited so long for this.’
Claire felt her insides tremble with excitement as his body settled over her, one of his thighs nudging hers apart, his weight propped up on his elbows as he drove into her with a deep groan of satisfaction. She felt the skin of his back and shoulders lift in a shiver as her body grabbed at him hungrily, the rocking motion he began setting her alight all over again. Electrifying sensations shot through her with each stroke and smooth glide of his body in hers. She felt the tremors begin deep inside her, the ripples of reaction rolling through her as he increased his pace, each deep thrust taking her higher and higher. She felt as if her body imploded, so forceful was the release he evoked. It rocketed through her like a torpedo, making every nerve hum and sing with sensation.
Antonio’s breathing quickened, his thrusts now so deep and so purposeful Claire could feel the exact moment his control finally slipped. With a deep groan he burst inside her, his body shuddering against hers as pleasure coursed through him, her tight body milking him until he collapsed in satisfaction above her.
She kept stroking his back, her fingers dancing over his muscled form, hoping the magical spell of sensuality would not be broken too quickly.
Antonio was right: this was the part they had always got right. It was the other details of their relationship they had tripped over: the involvement of relatives, the demands of his career and the loss of her independence, not to mention the vicissitudes of life, which in their case had been particularly cruel.
Antonio shifted his weight to look down at her. ‘It has not changed, has it, cara?’ he said, brushing a damp curl back from her forehead. ‘Although perhaps I am wrong about that; it has changed—if anything it has got better.’
Claire trembled under his touch, her body acutely aware of his, still lying encased moistly in hers. ‘What if it’s not enough, Antonio? Physical attraction will eventually burn itself out. Then what will be left?’
His eyes were dark as pitch as they held hers. ‘It has not burned out yet, in spite of our five-year hiatus. As soon as I saw you again I realised it. I wanted you back in my bed no matter what it took to get you there.’
‘This can’t go anywhere,’ she said, dropping her gaze from his in case he saw too much of what she was feeling. She was like a toy he had decided to play with for a limited time. She had to keep reminding herself this was not for ever. He was only here for three months.
‘It can go where we want it to,’ he said. ‘For as long as we want it to.’
Claire
