Page 22 of Italian Baby Shock

Lark shivered all over, her mouth going dry. ‘Is that what I did that night?’ she asked in a hoarse voice. ‘After you t-touched me?’

Slowly he shook his head. ‘I undressed you that night. But I wished I’d had the patience to watch you undress for me.’

She wanted to. She wanted to see more of that hunger etched on his face, more of his desire for her as she took her clothesoff, baring herself for him. She’d missed out that night and she didn’t want to miss out again.

So she slid off his lap and stood in front of his seat, reaching for the zip on her skirt and pulling it down. She felt no hesitation, no embarrassment. He’d seen her naked before and he’d liked it—he’d already told her so and anyway, there was nothing but heat in his eyes now. It didn’t take a genius to work out that he was already loving what he saw.

She slid her skirt down, taking her knickers with it, then stepped out of the fabric, kicking off her little heels. She eased her blouse off and her bra, until finally she stood naked before him.

He sat back in his seat and let out a long breath, staring at her as if he wanted to eat her alive. ‘Come here,’ he ordered, soft and rough.

But now she could feel it, that power. He might have called the shots just before, but this—all of it—lived and died by her will and only hers.

Lark gave him a slow smile then stepped forward, easing herself into his lap, sitting astride him so she faced him. Making sure she took it slow and easy, watching as the fire in his eyes leapt, his hunger burning bright as she settled herself on him.

‘Ah,Dio...’ he breathed, his gaze dropping down her naked body then returning to her face. ‘I remember this. So beautiful...’ He lifted his hands, cupping her breasts and she sighed, arching into his palms, wanting more of his touch. ‘Say my name,’ he said, demanding. ‘Tell me how much you want me.’

‘Cesare...’ She caressed every syllable, loving how it made the fire in his eyes burn bright. ‘I want you...’ There was power in this too, in admitting her hunger for him, because that fuelled his, she could see it in his beautiful face.

It made her want to goad him even more. She reached down between them, her hand sliding over the fly of his suit trousers,finding him hot and hard beneath her, and lord...he was impressive.

He groaned as she squeezed him experimentally and she loved the sound, loved that she could draw it out of him.

‘Lark,’ he said roughly. ‘If you continue doing that, I won’t be responsible for what happens next.’

‘What does happen next?’ The words were breathless as she squeezed him again. ‘I can’t quite remember.’

‘Witch,’ he growled and lifted both hands, burying his fingers in her hair and pulling her in for a kiss, devouring her like a man starved.

He tasted like heaven. Like brandy or some other wickedly alcoholic sweet drink and it went straight to her head. Her arms lifted and she was twining them around his neck and arching against him, pressing her exquisitely sensitive nipples against the wool of his jacket.

There was something unbearably erotic in being naked while he was still fully dressed. It didn’t make her feel weak. It made her feel as if she was the powerful one, using her sexuality and his own desire against him, bringing him to his knees.

‘Say my name,’ she whispered against his mouth, consciously imitating him. ‘Tell me how much you want me.’

‘Lark,’ he murmured, the word rough and bitten off. ‘And how about I show you instead.’ Then he pulled her hands away from his fly and freed himself from his trousers. From somewhere he produced a condom packet that he ripped open with practiced ease. Then he sheathed himself before sliding one hand between her thighs, stroking her hot wet flesh, making her cry out as a flood of pleasure nearly overwhelmed her.

Then without another word, he positioned himself and thrust inside her.

She gasped, her head falling back, pleasure flooding her at the delicious stretch and burn of him inside her. She heard thesound of his harshly indrawn breath and he went still. His hand in her hair tightened and he pulled her mouth to his, kissing her with a hunger and passion that drove the last shreds of thought from her head.

She kissed him back desperately as he began to move, deep and slow, a rhythm that had her shifting on him, trying to match it. He dropped a hand to her bare hip, his palm burning against her skin, showing her the way, and then she found it. A rise and fall that was gentle at first and slow, then gaining pace.

Lark moaned against his mouth, as the pleasure became more and more intense, his hand on her hip pressing hard, his fingertips digging into her bare flesh even as his fist in her hair tightened still further, holding her still.

She put her palms flat to his chest, her nails against his skin, kissing him back hungrily as the pleasure rose in an agonising wave inside her. They moved faster, his thrusts harder, and then he slipped a hand between her thighs, stroking the sensitive bundle of nerves there and she came apart, crying his name as the climax took her and swept her away.

It was the sound of his name, hoarse and full of breathless pleasure, that catapulted him over the edge. As Lark sagged against him, he drove himself harder and faster inside her, both hands now on her hips to keep her still and then, long before he was ready for it, the orgasm hit him with all the force of a freight train, and he pulled her mouth to his as it took him, muffling the sound of his own release with her lips.

Afterwards he couldn’t move. He could hardly breathe. She was a warm weight on him, her small, curvy body leaning against his chest, her face pressed to his shoulder. His fingers were wound in her hair, the strands soft and silky against hisskin and he could smell her vanilla scent tinged with sweet feminine musk and sex.

Dio.He hadn’t expected that to happen so fast. But tasting her mouth and then her pretty breasts, and then watching her as she’d taken off her clothes for him before sitting naked in his lap, her sea-green eyes dark with desire...

It had been a long time without sex for him and every other woman he’d been with since that night had been somehow...unsatisfying. Not that the problem lay with them. He was the issue and he knew it. Or rather, the issue washer.

Her and what had happened between them that night. The lovers he’d had previously had all been skilled and he’d had pleasure from them. But sex had always been a selfish thing. He could give a woman pleasure, but nothing more, and that was the beginning and end of it.

Not with Lark, though. Lark had been unpractised, a virgin, and so what an experienced woman would understand without a word being said, she wouldn’t know. And she wouldn’t understand. He’d had to be clear with her what he could give her and what he couldn’t, and so he’d expected her to give nothing of herself to him, the way his other lovers had.

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