Happy Mother's Day! - By Sharon Kendrick Page 0,13

texture of the hair which grew there.

‘Sì, touch me,’ he urged, and closed his eyes as she began to unbuckle his belt, as he had prayed she might. ‘Do not be shy, cara. Ah, sì—touch me right there.’

The momentary inhibition Aisling felt at the formidable length of him against her palm was soon banished by the groan of pleasure he made and now she felt powerful. Equal. Because she wanted this, too.

She wanted it enough to forget everything but the potent strength of her own desire, which had her tugging off his jeans and hearing his low laugh until suddenly they were both naked, their bodies and limbs entangling, and Aisling gave a little cry of delight.

Gianluca kissed her and touched her until she cried out for him to take her and that made him laugh and kiss her some more. ‘Shall I make you wait?’ he teased.

‘Don’t you dare!’

‘Or, what?’

‘Or … this …’

She took her hand away from where it had been playing with him and he groaned, even while he wriggled with pleasure. So the cool and contained ice-maiden was melting, was she? Inside she was as hot and as sexy as any woman he’d ever made love to. He moved over her, brushing aside a few wild strands of dark hair, kissing the tip of her nose, and suddenly he was overcome with a need to make love to her.

‘Aisling?’ he said unsteadily. ‘You are protected?’

As Aisling shook her head he groaned and reached for some protection, stroking it on with shaking and impatient fingers and then moving over her once more.

There was that split-second before he entered her which somehow felt as intimate as anything could be. She wanted to tell him that she never normally did this kind of thing, that this was special, but she sensed that it would be inappropriate. As if she was expecting too much from it.

And besides, Gianluca was too aroused to be able to hear anything and so she just drew him down to her, wrapping her arms possessively around his bare back, wanting him closer than close—on her and in her and … ‘This is …’

‘I know it is,’ he groaned as he delayed for one more blissful and agonising second. ‘Il settimo cielo.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘It means that it feels like heaven. That you feel like heaven.’ And then he thrust into her—slow and hard and deep—enjoying the cry of delight which was torn from her lips as they moved in the act of life itself.

Again and again, he brought her to the edge—teasing her into writhing submission until suddenly he knew that he could wait no longer. He bent his mouth to her nipple, his teeth grazing against the sensitised bud, so that her nails gripped into the flesh of his shoulders when at last she tumbled over the edge and he winced with the heady combination of pleasure and pain before he climaxed himself.

They lay there, tight together, moist bodies mingling as their breathing and their hearts slowed, and as a delicious torpor began to creep over him he lifted his arm up to glance at his watch and swore very softly.

Sleepily, Aisling lifted her head. ‘Is something … wrong?’

He yawned and shrugged. ‘I’m not exactly behaving like host of the year, am I?’ he murmured. ‘We’ll stay here for a while, but then we really ought to get back to the party, cara.’ But the temptation of a goose-down heap of pillows and a warm, naked body next to his was just too much to resist and Gianluca fell asleep—a naked thigh spread carelessly against the curve of her hip, one hand lying lightly just above her waist, a few stray tendrils of hair like silk bonds against his skin.

Aisling must have slept too, because when she awoke she felt both disorientated and yet utterly contented. Her limbs felt heavy and her body warm and replete—its sticky heat and the tingling sensation of her skin reminding her of … of …

Her eyes flew open and she experienced a momentary feeling of sheer, blind panic as she realised just where she was.

And with whom!

She swallowed. It couldn’t be. She must have dreamt it. Please may this be a dream.

But then she heard the sound of a small sigh and the stirring of a body beside her and she knew that it was no dream.

Scarcely daring to breathe, she carefully turned her head to look at the figure on the bed next to her, as if