in a sin-soft voice. “I fear you are a wild sea witch come to drown me in desire.” His head was framed in the skylight overhead. The glass shimmered in the pale light as wispy clouds floated over the moon, weaving silvery threads in the black velvet sky.
Kate boldly brought his hand to her breast. “I seem to be sinking in the same spell. The ocean currents are a force too powerful to tame.”
His gaze began to burn with a smoky, seductive fire. “Be careful what you start,” he rasped. “You’ve already experienced the fact that I’m not a gentleman. I won’t stop, even if you tell me to.”
Kate didn’t believe that, but it didn’t matter. She had no intention of begging him to stop. In answer, she lifted herself on tiptoes and ran her tongue along the curl of his lower lip.
“Then it’s a good thing that I’m not a lady.”
His mouth quivered and then opened to suck her into a lush, liquid kiss. He tasted of hot spice and raw need, and as his teeth nipped her sensitive flesh, her breath melted to a moan.
Marco was right—there was nothing gentlemanly about his embrace. It was ruthless, ravaging, and the fierceness of his passion sent a lick of fire curling between her legs.
Oh, she was wicked to ache for his intimate touch. Yet somehow it felt so exquisitely right. Arching into his body, she pressed herself up against the hard ridge of his arousal.
A rough growl resonated deep in his throat.
Slipping her hand inside the placket of his shirt, Kate skimmed her palm over his chest, reveling in the masculine textures of coarse curling hair and smooth muscle. Marco tensed as her thumb stroked over the flat nub of his nipple with a slow, circling touch.
“Dio Madre.” Releasing her mouth, he trailed a line of lapping kisses to the soft, sensitive spot below her ear.
She shuddered as his warm, moist breath tickled her flesh, teasing a trail to the throbbing pulse point of her neck. A purr of pure pleasure escaped her lips.
“Cara—Kate.” His voice was a little unsteady, Italian and English tangling together in a heated rush of murmured words.
She felt a rush of intoxicating power that she could affect his self-control. The feeling of naked femininity bubbled through her like costly champagne. Emboldened, she brought her palm down to the front of his trousers and traced the steely shape of his arousal, feeling its pulsing heat straining to break free of the finespun wool.
His groan grew louder. Rougher. Hooking a finger in her bodice, Marco pulled it down, exposed a breast. He bent his head, the rasp of his stubbled cheek in contrast to the wet velvet heat of his mouth closing over her. A flick of his tongue sent a jolt of fire spiraling through her belly.
“Marco,” Kate whispered in wonder as sweet sensation played over and over her nipple. Biting back a louder cry, she twisted hard against his hips.
He looked up for just a moment with a sensuous smile. “Lentemente, bella.”
Slowly. Slowly. He resumed his unhurried caresses, laving, suckling her peaked flesh to a point of rosy fire. As he kissed her, his hands leisurely explored the curve of her back, the contour of her hips, the shape of her derriere.
Kate couldn’t still her impatience. The need to join herself with him was growing unbearable. She wanted him filling the void inside her, sharing his strength—and his weakness. Both of them had aching, empty places. Perhaps for a fleeting interlude they could make each other whole.
“Oh, please,” she gasped. “Prego.”
A low laugh thrummed against her skin. But as he fisted her skirts, a tremor betrayed that his own self-control was fast unraveling. Fabric frothed over her knees and his long, lithe hands lifted her up to a seat on the statue.
The marble was cool against her legs, and it took an instant for her feverish brain to realize that her perch was an oversized penis. Kate knew she should be aghast at her position, but in truth it was madly, wantonly erotic.
A dream beyond her wildest fantasy.
“Sei belissimo.” Marco’s fingers were like silk gliding up the inside of her thighs. “You are so beautiful.”
And he was an ancient Roman god come to life. Chiseled perfection, thrumming with passion.
He untied her drawers and pulled them off. “Spread your legs, Kate.”
She gasped as he skimmed through her damp curls and parted her feminine folds. A fingertip found her hidden pearl.
“Belissimo,” he repeated, his touch teasing, tantalizing.