Happy Mother's Day! - By Sharon Kendrick Page 0,31
power of him springing against her bare skin, and she swayed as he began to push her down to the floor. Now was not the time to tell him that she had never done it on the floor of a luxury penthouse before.
But if he noticed her lack of sophistication, it didn’t seem to matter—because he seemed so fired up with excitement that his body was quivering like a tight bow which was stretched to breaking point. He swore again.
‘What is it?’ she questioned, between kisses.
‘I’ll have to go and find a damned condom.’
‘There’s no need. I’m … I’m protected.’
He raised his head. ‘But last time—’
Stupid to be shy about the subject of contraception when they were only centimetres away from the ultimate intimacy. ‘What happened last time was what galvanised me into going on the pill.’ She took a deep breath. There was no need to tell him that she had been scared she wouldn’t be able to resist him if ever he tried to seduce her again. And hadn’t she been wise to think that?
‘I see.’ He paused for a moment, feeling a complicated mixture of relief that she was prepared for this and yet an intense and inexpicable jealousy at the thought that one day another man might make love to her like this. But that was nothing to do with him. Nothing at all. This was one night and one night only.
She closed her eyes and gasped as he peeled off her panties, his fingers slicking into her honeyed heat as he moved them against the delicate skin in a relentlessly pleasurable rhythm. And then he lifted her up and entered her with one powerful movement and Aisling felt a warm rush as he filled her—so hard and so proud that she sobbed out loud—but everything was happening so quickly.
He was kissing her and moving deep within her, her legs wrapped around his back as she felt the beckoning of her climax and then the first unbelievably powerful wrench as it sucked her under, over and over again—until he made one last, powerful thrust and cried out something in his native tongue.
His head fell onto her shoulder and she could feel the ragged rhythm of his breath and the faint sheen of sweat against her skin and she had to bite back a little cry of sheer wonderment.
How beautiful he was. She wanted to tell him that—and more, too. Crazy, mixed-up thoughts, which were bubbling to the forefront of her mind like a soup, but she held them back. Was that what happened to every woman during lovemaking? she wondered. Was it some sort of evolutionary mechanism which made your feelings for a man crystallise when he had possessed you as thoroughly as Gianluca had just done?
I could quite easily love you, she thought suddenly. She reached out her hands and ran them through the ebony ruffle of his hair, and something in the gesture made him lift his head, his eyes all hooded. This was Il Tigre at his most watchful and alert. ‘Are you okay?’ he queried.
Of all the things he could have said, it was possibly the most inadequate he could have chosen. The kind he might have asked at the end of a long and difficult business meeting. But maybe that was how he regarded it. It was certainly the kind of attitude they’d agreed on before it had all happened. So don’t let your stupid feelings show, she told herself. This is one night, no more. ‘I’m fine,’ she said lightly, her face lighting with a quick smile.
Fine? What kind of a testimony was that? Gianluca surveyed her naked body with the glitter of irritation. Only the rosy bloom which flowered above her breasts gave any indication that she had just been gasping her pleasure in his arms. From the detached expression on her face, you’d think she’d done nothing more exciting than going to the supermarket!
His mouth curved. Let her discover that he had only just begun—and that by the end of the night she would be gazing at him with the rapt adoration he saw as his due. After he had finished with her, she would not regard him so carelessly!
‘Let’s go to bed,’ he said harshly.
CHAPTER EIGHT
DESPITE Aisling’s best efforts to preserve the appearance of her pink silk dress, she still felt mortified as she stole down the hotel’s grand staircase the following morning.
She had been hoping to get away before anyone was up. Some hopes. Even though