Page 21 of Italian Baby Shock

She heard his breath catch at her touch, saw his eyes darken even further.

‘Shall I tell you what happened after you kissed me?’ he asked softly. ‘After you wound your arms around my neck?’

Her own breathing was getting faster, the ache between her thighs a growing pressure.

‘Yes,’ she said, her mouth dry.

Blue flames leapt in his eyes. ‘I did this.’ He dropped one hand to the buttons of her blouse. ‘I opened the shirt you were wearing.’ He flicked the top button open. ‘One button at a time.’ Another one. ‘I went slowly, because I didn’t want to scare you.’ A third button. ‘And also, because I wanted to tantalise you.’ A fourth.

Her heart beat like thunder in her head, her skin sensitised. She couldn’t stop looking at his face, at the hunger etched in stark lines there, and all for her.

Cool air whispered over her skin as the fabric parted, making her shiver.

‘And then,’ he went on, undoing the last button so her blouse was entirely open. ‘I spread out the fabric so I could see you.’ He pushed the two halves of her blouse wide, baring the white lace of her bra. ‘Your nipples were hard. Just like they are now, and I touched them. Like this.’ His fingertips grazed over the peaks of her breasts, first one and then the other, and sensation crackled through her, a knife of pleasure that tore a gasp from her throat.

She felt half hypnotised by his touch and by the deep roughened sound of his voice. By the pressure between her thighs that made her want to shift restlessly beneath his touch.

‘After that,’ he murmured, ‘since your bra had a front clasp just like this one, I did this...’ With a twist of his fingers, heflicked open her bra and the material fell away, the air cool on her sensitised nipples.

Lark took a sharp breath as he gazed down at her, desire glittering in his eyes. ‘You were so beautiful that night,’ he continued. ‘As beautiful as you are now, and so I touched you just like this...’ He cupped one breast in his hot palm, squeezing her gently, teasing her nipple with his thumb and drawing a shudder from her. ‘Then I had to taste you, because you looked so delicious.’

He bent, his tongue touching her aching nipple and making her gasp aloud. Then he drew it into his mouth, applying gentle pressure, and she groaned.

This wasn’t going as she’d planned. She’d wanted to push him further, flex her power even more, but she’d become a victim of her own hunger and now she didn’t want him to stop. Not when it felt so good. Familiar, too, though her memory of that night was still a black hole. Her body knew, though. Her body was greeting him as if it had been starved for his touch, aching for him. Desperate for him.

Her eyes fluttered closed, her world narrowing to the heat of his mouth on her breast, his fingers in her hair holding her exactly where he wanted her, his hard thighs beneath her, surrounded by his powerful body.

God, she loved it.

Weren’t you supposed to the one makinghimdesperate?

Oh, but did that really matter now? She didn’t care about power games, not in this moment. In this moment all she wanted was him.

She groaned and arched her back, pressing herself into his mouth. Her fingers slid into his hair, the strands feeling like raw silk, soft yet with a delicious roughness to it.

‘Do you remember, little bird?’ he whispered against her heated skin. ‘Do you remember me doing this to you?’

‘No,’ she replied, breathless. ‘But keep going. What else did we do?’

He raised his head, the shadows in his eyes darkening into midnight. ‘You have to say yes, Lark. I’m not going to show you anything more until you do.’

You were supposed to make him beg...

The thought drifted through her pleasure-fogged brain, but she couldn’t remember why she’d wanted that. And anyway, all she had to say was yes and she couldn’t think of a single reason to refuse him.

‘Yes,’ she whispered.

‘Yes, what?’

‘Yes, Signor Donati. Right here. Right now.’

His beautiful mouth curved, amusement warring with the satisfaction glinting in his eyes. ‘I like Signor Donati, believe me. But that night you called me Cesare.’

‘Cesare,’ she echoed, his name sounding like music. ‘Yes, Cesare.’

The amusement vanished, heat flaring hot and bright in his eyes. ‘One moment,’ he said, then shifted, getting his phone from his pocket. He hit a couple of buttons then issued an order in clipped Italian before throwing the phone down in the seat next to them.

‘I’ve instructed my staff to not to bother us,’ he said. ‘We have privacy.’ His gaze took on an intent look. ‘Now, little bird. Why don’t you take the rest of your clothes off for me?’

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