The Price (House of Sin #5) - Elisabeth Naughton Page 0,72
way her soft lips parted as she breathed. I even watched the way her eyelids fluttered. And when the corners of her lips tipped up, I hoped like hell she was dreaming of me.
I wasn’t sure how long I sat there, but the room was considerably warmer when she shifted beneath the comforter, and so was I. Hot, everywhere. Burning with an unquenchable desire to prove to her things were better. I was better. That I hadn’t forgotten how to remind her she was mine.
“L-Luc?” She pushed up on one hand and blinked rapidly, her cute little brow furrowed as she glanced over the bed, then twisted, squinting in the red glow of the firelight to look for me.
A relieved look filled her eyes when she spotted me in the chair. She sat up and pushed the curls back from her sleepy face. “There you are.” She yawned. “What are you doing over there? Come to bed.”
Another wave of heat rolled through my groin, but I didn’t move. Just lifted the whisky in my hand and sipped as I continued to watch her. And I saw the moment she recognized the look in my eye. I saw by the way her whole body came full awake and a flush darkened her cheeks.
She threw the covers back and slid to her feet, wearing nothing but that fitted ribbed tank that showed off her curves, the swell of her breasts, and those low-rise lace panties I’d wanted to strip from her body earlier with my teeth. Before she could even take a step, though, I said, “Uh-uh, angioletto. I want you on your knees.”
My beautiful little bride blushed even deeper, but the smile that curled her lips was all the encouragement I needed to tell me this was exactly what she wanted. What we needed.
Her eyes—those gorgeous blue gems that hadn’t wanted to look at me earlier—stayed locked on mine as she crawled across the carpet toward me. When she reached me, she pushed up on her knees and laid her palms on my thighs.
I pushed the glass of whisky into her hand. “Drink this.”
She took a sip and tried to hand the glass back to me, but I wouldn’t let her.
“No, drink all of it.” I helped her lift it back to her lips. “I want you feeling good when I touch you, angioletto. Because I plan to touch you everywhere tonight, and I might not be able to control myself when I do.”
A very satisfied sigh slipped from her lips. Still watching me, she tipped her head back and swallowed the two or so shots in the glass. Then she winced and pressed the back of her hand against her mouth. “That burns.”
It didn’t even come close to the burn inside me.
I took the glass from her and set it behind my chair. “Do you know what I’ve been thinking about while I’ve been sitting here, watching you sleep?”
She shook her head and slid her hands back over the denim at my thighs, her eyes glowing with heat and need in the low light. “What?”
I leaned forward and fingered her silky curls. “I’ve been thinking about you and how sexy you are.” I tugged her toward me. “How hard you make me.” I lowered my lips to hers, sliding my tongue into her mouth for a quick, sinful taste. “And just how tight and slick and perfect you are between your shapely legs.”
I pressed a soft, gentle kiss against her lips. “I want to see it. I want to see that tempting pussy that belongs to me. Show me, angioletto.”
She blushed at my order but pushed to her feet and reached for the lace at her hips.
“Not like that.” I stopped her with my fingers around her wrist. “Sit back on the floor. I want to watch you from right here.”
A soft moan escaped her lips as she lowered herself to the carpet in front of me, her pebbled nipples already straining against the cotton of her tank, her pulse racing at her throat. Placing both hands on the carpet behind her, she drew her feet in and pressed her knees together as she leaned back.
“Mm, yes.” I was growing harder by the second watching her watching me. From this angle I could just see the lace covering her cute little ass. “Spread your legs, vita mia. I want to see if I’ve made you wet yet.”
She bit her lip, hesitated, then opened her legs. And then it was my