Temporarily His Princess - By Olivia Gates Page 0,55
her fingers through the thick, silky depths of his hair. “I’ve been holding up pretty well for the past two days. What’s so different about the week ahead?”
“First, for the past two days you haven’t even left this room. You have been mostly flat on your back—or belly—and apart from a couple of memorable instances, I’ve been doing all the work.” She smacked him playfully, giggling, her body priming itself again at the memory of all the “work” he’d done. “But I’m going to demand more of your participation over the next week, as it’s all the time I have for our honeymoon. My post back in New York starts next week.”
Her heart plummeted. That soon?
She must have looked as crestfallen as she felt. He smoothed her tousled bangs out of her eyes, his tone urgent. “I’ll only work by day. The nights, I’m all yours.”
She smiled, hating that she’d made him feel bad for having to work. “It’s okay. I need to get back to work myself.”
His eyes flared with possessiveness as he slid the sheet totally off her. “During the days only, Gloriosa mia. The nights are mine.”
She nodded dreamily as she squeezed her breasts and thighs together to mitigate their aching throb. “Yes.”
His eyes glazed over as he pushed her thighs apart, sliding two fingers between her soaked folds. “And afternoons and lunch breaks and whenever I can squeeze you in.”
Her legs fell apart, inviting his fingers inside; her breasts jutted for him to squeeze away. “Oh, yes.”
Her response tore away any intentions to prioritize food as he fell on her breasts again, suckling, his fingers plunging inside her, pumping. She poured fuel on his fervor, kneading his erection, sinking her teeth into his shoulders.
“Dio, Gloria mia, you make me insane….”
His growl was driven as he descended over her, pushed her flat on her back, impacting her with his full weight and rising between her spread legs only enough to free himself.
Then, without preliminaries, he drove into her, tearing a shriek from her depths. He rammed inside her in a furious rhythm, plunging deeper with every thrust, growling like a beast. The expansion inside her around his girth and length, the feeling of being totally dominated and mastered, had her sobbing, pleasure twisting tighter inside her until she feared she’d unravel once it snapped.
He rose on outstretched arms. “Look at us, Gloria mia, look what I’m doing to you, look how you’re taking me….”
She looked, and the sight of the daunting column of flesh disappearing inside her, spreading her, joining them, made her thrash at the carnality of it, the beauty.
Then the tightness was quickening inside her, the familiar crescendo, her flesh fluttering around his girth.
He felt it, fell on her breasts, suckling hard, biting, triggering her. “Come for me, gloriosa, come all over me. Finish me with your pleasure as I finish you.”
Everything snapped inside her like a high-voltage cable, writhing and lashing out and wreaking devastation. He drove the deepest he’d ever been inside her, roaring as he rested against her womb and razed her in the ecstasy of his release.
But feeling his seed splashing her intimate walls, filling her, branding her, spread regret along with the pleasure. Regret that his seed wouldn’t take root. She’d made sure it wouldn’t.
He collapsed on top of her, his breathing as harsh as hers. She wrapped herself tighter around him, relishing his weight. Without him covering her like this, anchoring her in the aftermath of devastation, she felt she might dissipate….
He drew up, supporting his weight on one elbow, fusing them in the evidence of their mutual satisfaction, his other hand securing her head for a deep, luxurious kiss.
The moment he felt her quickening beneath him again, he rumbled a self-deprecating laugh, then groaned as he separated their bodies. “Have mercy, bellissima. Now it’s I who needs to refuel. I’m not a spry teenager anymore.”
Her gaze clung to his undiminished manhood. “Are you kidding me? I’ve been wondering if you’ve hooked yourself to your inexhaustible energy source.”
“I am hooked, all right, on a perpetually renewable source of passionate madness whose name is but a description of her.” Before she could lunge at him, he jumped up, stuffing himself with difficulty into his pants. “We’re refueling. Then I’m taking you sailing. We’ll continue this session on board. Ever made love rocking to the undulations of a tranquil sea?”
Before she said no, since he hadn’t taken her sailing before, jealousy sank into her gut.
He grinned. “Neither have I. Another fantasy