Happy Mother's Day! - By Sharon Kendrick Page 0,92
asked thickly as he took her hand and fed it onto his body.
As he curved her fingers around the pulsing, engorged length of him Erin whimpered low in her throat and nodded. ‘Yes.’ As she tightened her grip she felt the shudder ripple through his body.
‘And do you want to feel me inside you?’ He took her lower lip between his teeth, feeling the breath escape her mouth in a series of choky gasps. He nuzzled the side of her neck, breathing in the warm, aroused scent of her. ‘Is that what you are imagining?’
‘Oh, God!’ she moaned, dragging his face up to hers. For a split second before her eyes closed he looked directly into the blazing blue of her eyes and saw some of the desperation he felt reflected in those shimmering depths. ‘Yes, Francesco … yes,’ she said before she sealed her open lips to his.
Parting her legs, he lowered himself between them and, running a hand down the curve of one thigh, he curved her leg over his hip, pulling her body up hard against him so that she could feel how much he wanted her.
‘Dio mio, but I want you so badly … tell me you want me.’
Her eyes opened. The pupils were so dilated they almost swallowed up the blue. ‘You know I do.’ ‘I want to hear you say it.’
Self-respect and pride were noble concepts, they might matter a lot in the cold light of day, but she was burning up from the inside out and nothing mattered at all except Francesco.
‘I want you …’ she whispered against his mouth.
As Francesco continued to kiss her his long, sensitive fingers moved in sensuous stroking motions along the curve of her inner thigh, advancing and retreating until, unable to bear the torment any longer, Erin took his hand and placed it against the damp curls at the apex of her legs.
‘Please, Francesco,’ she begged, kissing the sweat-slick column of his brown throat. ‘I need.’
‘Oh, I need also, bella mia,’ he responded thickly as he slid into her wetness. ‘I need this.’
Erin, her head thrown back, a feral moan locked in her throat, arched and clutched at his shoulders as he thrust into her.
‘That is … Oh, God … Francesco … you’re …!’ Her eyes closed tight as she concentrated on the feel of him filling her, her senses were sensually heightened to an almost unbearable degree as he moved.
‘You feel … oh, God, Francesco …’
A moan vibrated in his chest as he felt her tighten hotly around him. He spoke in his own language, the words throaty and passionate spilling from him as he slid his hands under her bottom and lifted her up so that he could sink deeper into her.
Everything that wasn’t Francesco, that wasn’t his voice and his body, faded away. But as he took her to new heights of sensual pleasure one small stubborn portion of Erin’s brain stayed removed from the devouring hunger that drove them both.
‘Let go!’ Francesco urged as if he sensed her holding back. ‘I c … can’t. I’ll fall,’ she heard herself pant stupidly against the sweat-slick column of his neck. ‘Fall, cara. I will catch you.’
She shouldn’t have believed him, but she did. Akeening cry emerged from her parted lips as the pleasure exploded inside her, the sensation heightened when Francesco exploded, too.
CHAPTER TEN
ERIN had almost reached the bedroom door when she heard Francesco stir. His deep voice slurred with sleep, he asked, ‘Where are you going?’ She turned back.
Francesco was raised on one elbow. The sheet that had been covering his body had slipped down to waist level. Not looking would have been too obvious, and also as it happened impossible.
He was quite simply magnificent.
She dragged her eyes back to his face, her colour significantly heightened, her expression carefully neutral.
‘Back to my room.’
Even though they had just made love, looking at her staring at him with those big eyes sent a stab of desire through his body. He consulted the clock on the bedside table, and raised a brow in surprise when he saw four hours had elapsed since he had kicked the door closed.
He sprawled back with indolent grace and, allowing his eyes to travel up her body, thought about the taste of her, the silky softness of her skin as it glided against his own. ‘What are you wearing?’
Erin touched a self-conscious, not quite steady hand to the lapel of the male shirt she wore. ‘My things were wet.’