His gaze rakes down my body, resting on the huge emerald nestling between my heavy breasts. Reaching up, he gently tugs on it, and I smile.

“Nice way to wake up,” he murmurs.

“Do you want breakfast?” I ask all innocently.

“No,” he says. “I want you to sit on my cock.”

“Oh, well, I think that can be arranged.”

“You look like a fucking goddess,” he says as I wrap my fingers around his length.

I lift up and slide down on him, sighing in ecstasy as he fills me. This always feels so damn good.

He reaches up and pinches my nipples, pulling them and tweaking them as I ride him. God, I love my tits being played with. I can feel myself already getting close, which is insane.

I rub my pussy against his groin every time I slam down on him, giving my clit the friction it needs.

“That’s it, baby, make yourself feel good. Grind on me.”

So, I do. I grind myself on him, getting myself off.

I come with a soft cry, and he pulls my nipples as I ride out the orgasm. Sated and relaxed, I collapse against his chest as I pant for breath, and he flips me over, pulls my leg up, and pounds into me.

Holy hell. I see stars as he hits deep, making the aftershocks of my orgasm spark to life. I’m so sensitive, it’s almost too much. It’s as if just having come from stimulating my clit, that spot deep inside me is primed and ready for its own bit of the fun.

I moan and writhe under him as he works me to the point where I know I am going to fall again.

I’m scared that one of these days he’ll send me over that edge, and it will be so intense that I’ll smash into a million tiny pieces.

He groans my name, and I cry out as he comes just as I do. My eyes drift shut.

“Eyes on me,” he demands.

I snap them open, and we stare at one another as we ride the waves.

“It’s utterly dangerous that two people can be this explosive together,” I say as he gently withdraws from me. “How can anyone ever go back to normal sex after experiencing something like this?”

“Well, we won’t have to. If we get married, we will be able to have explosive sex as often as we want.”

The marriage thing again. It delights me, and it scares me. “I’m so messed up, Matteo. I don’t know if I’m a good bet.”

“Yes, you are,” he says. “But I’ll keep you on the straight and narrow.” He winks. “Plenty of sex should do it.”

“You’re an arrogant fucker,” I say.

“I’m going to take a shower. Care to join me?”

I nod, and he leads me into the bathroom. We soap one another up and explore each other’s bodies as we shower. Then he dries me gently. He grabs a bottle of body lotion from a shelf, and I frown. “That’s my body lotion, the one I use. Did you have it brought from my apartment?”

For once in his life, Matteo Mancini looks sheepish. “No. I asked my investigator to find out what brand you like.”

I blink as I look at him, taking that in. “That’s really fucked up.”

“Or, really caring.” He grins at me. “I’ll always go the extra mile to give you what you want.”

“I have two conditions.” He frowns at my words. “If you’re serious about us getting married, two conditions.”

“Okay.”