Happy Mother's Day! - By Sharon Kendrick Page 0,91
as thick and rich as warm honey. His burning dark eyes roamed over her face, examining every inch of the smooth, peachy pale skin with a hungry intensity, as though he was committing each individual freckle, every soft hollow and curve to memory.
Erin’s throat ached and her heart thudded against her breastbone as, light-headed with anticipation, she waited to feel his mouth on hers. She was sure that if Francesco didn’t kiss her soon she would become the first documented case of someone dying from not being kissed.
A whimper of relief caught in her throat when he did finally bend his dark head and fit his mouth to hers. It was as if she had been waiting a lifetime for this to happen. He kissed her slowly, tasting her, deepening the kiss as her lips parted under the seductive pressure and friction of his mouth.
With a lost sigh Erin slid her slim arms around his neck and leaned into him. She met the stabbing incursions of his tongue with her own, moaning into his mouth and tangling her fingers into the heavy silky strands of his dark hair.
When he lifted her into his arms she did not resist but moaned softly into his mouth. She lay curled up in his arms, her hands linked around his neck, her fingers trailing into the hair on his nape as he strode swiftly down the hallway to a room at the far end and kicked open the door with his foot.
Once inside he walked purposefully over to the large fourposter bed and laying her on it, came to kneel beside her.
The tightness in her chest increased as her hungry gaze roamed over his smooth golden skin. The blood pounded in her ears as she looked at him; he was so beautiful it hurt.
‘This is probably not a good idea,’ she observed in a tone that invited—no, begged for—denial.
‘Do you care?’
Her eyes lifted to his face.
Francesco’s dark, restless glance repeatedly drifted towards her mouth as though drawn by invisible forces to the soft, full, quivering outline.
‘Well, do you?’ he challenged throatily.
Slowly she shook her head.
Asigh that seemed to Erin’s fanciful imagination to be drawn from his soul shuddered through Francesco’s lean frame.
‘I should, though …’ The faint addition was as much for her own benefit as his.
He dismissed her words with an expressive shrug. ‘If we both did what we should life would be very predictable.’
‘But safe.’ At that moment it was hard for Erin to remember what safe had felt like.
He responded to her husky claim by planting a hand either side of her head and kissing her hard, silenced her protest with deep, penetrating stabs of his tongue that made her stomach dissolve.
‘Dio mio,’ he panted against her mouth. ‘I want this … I want you.I want to feel your hands on my skin.’
‘Like this?’ she suggested. Laying one hand palm-flat on his stomach, she felt the muscles under the silky hair-roughened surface immediately contract and quiver as she stroked his damp skin.
Francesco sucked in a harsh breath. His eyes glittered as though lit from within as he slid his warm hands under her top, sliding the fabric up over the twin peaks of her taut, firm breasts to reveal them to his famished gaze.
Even before he had touched her the heat of his bold, hungry stare made the sensitive peaks burn and harden into tight hard buds inside the light lacy covering.
The hunger in his eyes sent her spiralling out of control. She moaned low in her throat and sank her fingers into his hair as he unfastened her bra and cupped the warm mounds of aching flesh in his hands. Drawing them together, he buried his face in the softness before kneading the sensitised flesh and lashing the rosy tips with his tongue.
When he lifted his head there were dark bands of colour across his cheekbones and his eyes glowed as though lit from within.
‘You are perfect!’
I ought to be saying that, Erin thought as he took her face between his hands and kissed her, because he was—totally and absolutely perfect.
After the kiss she didn’t think much at all. She didn’t even realise that he had removed her jeans until she felt the abrasive texture of his hair-roughened thighs against her bare skin.
As they continued to kiss with feverish abandon Erin’s hands moved lower over his flat stomach, skimming then dipping below the waistband of his boxers, causing him to suck in his breath sharply.