Page 52 of Giorgio

Cupping the warm giving flesh, he reshaped them, thumbs grazing the tight buds until she was squirming restlessly.

“Amore Mio Bellissima…” He whispered thickly. Her heart quickened as love and joy blossomed inside her heart. Bending his head, he captured a tight bud between his teeth, his tonguecreating havoc. Her body arched, fingers tugging at his thick dark hair as he laved the flesh, until he was suckling it hungrily.

One hand drifted between her thighs, and he nudged them apart to cup her sex. She had showered and just donned the t-shirt and a scrap of lace that did little to cover the flesh.

The flimsy material seemed to disintegrate beneath his feverish touch. Moving the sides of the panties, he sought the hot flesh, touching the mound, before slipping a finger to find the wetness there.

His beard tickled her flesh, sending shockwaves throughout her body. When he moved down to her flat stomach, she was quivering, her right leg bent at the knee. He was careful to keep away from the broken leg.

Lifting her right leg, he kissed the inside of her thigh, nibbling at the flesh. His mouth replaced his fingers, sending delicious tingles all the way to her heart. Cupping her bottom, he lifted her upwards, his mouth nuzzling the fine hairs covering her sex.

Juliana gripped the sheets, her body already erupting. She no longer felt the weight of grief pressing her down. She only felt him. He surrounded her, invaded every inch of her body, and consumed her.

A cry escaped her when he toyed with the swollen and very sensitive mound. He nuzzled, inhaling her musky scent. Using the tip of his tongue, he entered her slowly, until he was capturing the moisture. Working his way deeper, he plunged into her, holding her still while he slowly made love to her with his mouth.

Her climax was explosive. It started as a slow roll inside her tummy before expanding into something so powerful it lifted her off the bed. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead, and she felt as if her heart was bursting inside her chest.

Putting her down gently, he finished undressing both of them, before pulling her against him and entering her slowly. His hands cupped her face, fingers tracing her tapered brows, his expression one of wonder. “I couldn’t stay away.” He whispered against her mouth.

“I missed you.” She whispered back, her fingers exploring his chest. “I tortured myself thinking you were with someone else.”

“Never.” His lips brushed hers lightly as he slowly undulated his hips, thrusting into her without haste. “My sweet Juliana.”

Her name in his slightly accented voice sent tremors vibrating throughout her body and had her clinging to him.

“Giorgio.”

He covered her mouth, capturing her sighs. His fingers made grooves in her flesh. Lifting her right leg, he drove deeper, wanting to mold himself to her. He couldn’t get enough of her. Wanting her was driving him insane. He wanted more.

She came, her cries swallowed deep inside his throat. He couldn’t hold back his own mind gripping climax and followed right behind her, his seed pouring into her, his long, lean body shuddering, heart pounding like a jack hammer.

Always conscious of hurting her, he repositioned her so that her injured leg was out of the way. But he held her tight against him, his skin coated with a sheen of sweat, his mouth still clinging to hers.

For what seemed like ages, he ended the kiss and buried his face in the side of her neck. She combed her fingers through his damp hair, her eyes clouded with tears. What she felt for him was not just physical but had transcended that to become a spiritual thing. He had touched her soul.

Lifting his head, his dark eyes studied her face. “I should let you get some sleep.” His voice was hoarse with emotions.

“I don’t feel sleepy.” Her fingers tugged at his facial hair. “Why the beard?”

He grinned, white teeth a sharp contrast to the inky blackness of his beard. “I tried it out in college and decided that it suited, so I kept it. What do you think?”

“I think it makes you look like a sexy bandit.” She continued to comb her fingers through it. “I bet all the women are enamored by it.”

“Possibly.” His tone was offhand. “I never asked.” Capturing her exploring fingers, he pressed it to his lips. “Can you talk about your father?”

She nodded. She had been in the throes of despair before, but now she felt the calm invading her soul.

“He taught me how to fish.”

His thick brows lifted. “How good are you?”

“Lousy.” She told him with a laugh. “He used live bait, and I got squeamish every time I had to hook the line.”

“Afraid of worms?” He was nibbling at soft fleshy part of her fingers and sending heat to the core of her.

“Oh yes. He would reel his catch in and release it after. I asked him why and he told me they deserved to live another day.” Her expression became sober. “He was a great dad, but he died a little more each day he had to live without mom.”

“How did she die?”

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