Page 38 of Hayes

"You can. You will." Trailing a finger down his sculpted cheek, she watched as his eyes darkened. "I saw a sculptor in a gallery in Rome, Galleria Borghese, one that reminded me so much of you that I used to go there whenever I was in the country."

She traced the shape of his lip before tracing the dent in his chin. "I missed you so much that I would pretend–"

"Pretend what?" He had to swallow the lump in his throat as she moved down to his neck.

"That I was going to see you." Her hands were splayed on the smooth chest, and she watched as the muscles flinched. "I met someone—his name was Claude, and he was French and blonde.

He wore his hair the same way you wore it when you were younger." His stomach clenched, and he felt himself hardening when she started kissing his nipples. "I tried to have sex with him–"

Jealousy flared inside his chest. "Why are you telling me this?"

"I just wanted you to know."

"You said there was no one else." He tugged at the restraint again without success.

"There wasn't. I couldn't go through with it." Her body drifted to his flat stomach, and he felt the passion roaring inside him as her rigid nipples trailed over his skin. "I tried because I was so desperate."

His stomach was quivering, and he felt helpless, his body raging out of control, and that was before she touched her lips to his swollen flesh.

"Sweetheart." His body arched, and he watched, fascinated, as she wrapped her fingers around him, stroking the hot flesh. "I cannot stand it."

"I just want to taste you."

"Cammy–" he broke off with a tortured groan. Holding him between her fingers, she touched her tongue to the reddened tip and had him twisting his body toward her.

Camelia had meant it as a game, a way to punish him, but something else had taken over. As soon as she took him into her mouth, he was lost. The tenuous hold on his control dissipated into nothingness as she took him inside her throat. The feel of the saliva and her mouth sliding over him was more than he could bear.

But it was not enough. He wanted to side himself deep into her and bathed her with his seed. Only he was incapable of speech. Or rational thinking. In fact, he could not think at all. He felt as if he was going mad.

The blood was roaring inside his ears, and his body was taking on a life of its own. Sensations washed over him, drowning him in its depth, until he felt himself going under, the desire swamping him and pulling him beneath the exquisite waves of emotions he could not find words to describe.

He was on the verge of bursting when she stopped and climbed on top of him. The exquisite sensation of being sheathed by her tightness, the feel of his penis soaked by her saliva and sliding into her, was so incredible that for a second, he could not move, could not breathe.

"Let me touch you," he ordered thickly. "Please."

"Not yet." His tormentor told him huskily. "Soon." Leaning forward, she cupped a breast and held it to his starving lips. A gasp escaped her as he seized the nipple and suckled hungrily.

Sharp jolts of white-hot fire started shooting through her body, forcing her to move, and when she did, the climax was immediate. Her body trembled violently as he drove into her relentlessly, fueling the fire that was burning a path inside her.

Crying out his name, Camelia dug her fingers into his hair as she fought to come back from the tempestuous storm that seemed to be overwhelming her.

Letting go of the nipple, Hayes tugged at the restraint. "Release me." His voice was harsh and strained, his face taut with passion. "Now."

Reaching over, she fumbled to untie the silk. It took several attempts before she could do so, and when she did, his arms came around her, racing up and down her back as he thrust into her weakened body. Lowering her head, she took his lips, the tears running down her cheeks, emotions swamping her.

It was not long before he was pouring his seed inside her, his body jerking. She collapsed on top of him, her heart racing, her body weak and an emotional wreck.

Cradling her against him, Hayes fought to get his breath back, his own mind in turmoil. They had reached a new level of passion, and he could not help but wonder if there were still more. If that was the case, he was not certain his heart could stand it.

Shifting, he eased her off him so that she was lying next to him. Turbulent green eyes examined her face, and he felt the quiver of his heart as he took in the swollen lips and the slumberous eyes of the woman he adored.

Lifting a hand, he stroked one smooth cheek, a half smile touching his lips. "Was that to teach me a lesson?"

"If that was so, then I believe I have taught myself one too," she told him with a weak smile. "It was a lot."

"Yes, it was." He continued stroking her cheek. "You said you wanted me to forget about the others."

"I was jealous. Am jealous."

---