Page 20 of The Roman's Woman (A Singular Obsession)

He’d been lucky so far. Sophia wasn’t the kind of person who looked at tabloids, even if they were right under her nose. But his luck would only hold out for so long. It was only that it had been so easy to pretend. Far easier than he would have ever imagined. As long as he didn’t wear a suit and avoided the financial district, he was relatively anonymous. A pair of mirrored sunglasses and his own countrymen—including the paparazzi—didn’t recognize him.

It was disconcerting in a way, being able to step away from his life like he had. Gio didn’t enjoy being famous, but as the son of one of Italy’s oldest and wealthiest families, notoriety had always been a part of his existence. These past days with Sophia had been a learning experience, in more ways than one.

At least he’d started laying the groundwork. He had admitted that he worked at a bank. She just didn’t know that he was the head of it. Or that it wasn’t a sideline. What was she going to say when he finally told her the whole truth?

She was going to be angry. There was no doubt about it. Any reasonable person would be furious. A flash of Sophia’s face, losing her sunny smile, growing colder and staring at him in distaste ran through his head. And that was the best-case scenario.

Could the fiery Latin temper be a stereotype?He could only hope so.

Never date a rich guy. Yeah, there was that too. Damn her ex. That son of a bitch had clearly done a number on her. Gio needed to show her that merely because a man had money, it didn’t mean he had to bend everyone to his will. A rich successful man could be reasonable and thoughtful, capable of being an equal partner.

Although he hadn’t exactly been calm or reasonable last night. He’d been watching Sophia all evening, doing his best not to embarrass himself during her seductive little show on the dance floor. She’d left her phone with him, however, and the cursed thing kept going off.

At first he’d ignored it—until the third call. What kind of pathetic excuse for a man called a woman over and over again when she obviously didn’t want to talk to him?

Annoyed, he’d resolved to discuss it with Sophia, but the fucking calls kept coming until he’d been driven stupid with jealousy. And he’d let that jealousy drive him straight into that alley.

Truthfully, he wasn’t sure he regretted what he’d done. Letting go of his inhibitions that way had led to the best sex of his life. But Sophia had deserved candles and satin sheets on a king-sized bed for their first time. He glanced around him. This room was nice, but it didn’t compare to the bedroom in his penthouse a few blocks away.

He had to tell her the truth today. And he meant it this time. But first, he needed to find out more about this ex and what this unfinished business was. Clearly Sophia’s former boyfriend was using it as an excuse to stay in her life…and win her back. The sheer volume of calls was proof of that. He had to put a stop to it.

Gio had finally found his future, and he wasn’t about to let anyone take it away from him.

He was thinking it over, making plans, when Sophia shifted, causing the sheet to drift down. The move revealed her creamy café-au-lait thigh and part of one rich globe before she turned over on her back.

Inhaling deeply, he moved lower on the bed and pulled the cover off her body. A man had to have his priorities.

Chapter 8

Sophia had always hated getting up in the morning. However, this time she was struggling for consciousness, reaching for pleasure that grew progressively more intense the more she woke.

Stretching languorously, she arched her hips and legs restlessly. Soft hair brushed against the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. Lifting heavy lids, she peeked down.Oh, God…It was Gio. And he was…oh, God.

His mouth was magic. And holy shit it was aggressive. He was holding her hips down, because even now she was writhing uncontrollably, bucking and straining against his hands. Licking up and down her folds, he ate her with abandon, sucking in her clit to his mouth. He rolled his tongue over it before moving one hand to caress and probe her entrance.

Her pussy tightened and spasmed on his fingers, trying to keep him inside her to rub that magical little spot he’d claimed and made his own. But he was teasing her now. A single finger snaked inside her before retreating and entering again until he was fucking her in a steady rhythm.

But it wasn’t enough. What she craved was his thick and heavily veined cock.

It was too big and thick actually. She was a large woman, but not down there. That didn’t matter, though. The pain she felt at taking him was minor, not even worth mentioning. Not compared to the ecstasy he gave her.

“Gio, please,” she gasped, trying to pull him upward.

But he had other ideas. “No,” he said. “One in my mouth, Sophia. Give me one my mouth, please.”

It sounded more like a command than a plea. His tongue was in her now, working in and out, withdrawing occasionally to nibble on her clit. Over and over again he penetrated her until she was half crazy, moaning and panting in abandon. She gloried in the sensation, reveling greedily in each wave as the pleasure built.

When it crashed down, it was like being flung on the shore, broken and dashed to pieces. Tensing, she arced like her body had been shot through with electricity. Her vision blurred, and she cried out in a heart-stopping climax.

Gio let her fall, but only briefly. Melting into the bed, she was still experiencing twinges of dissipating bliss when his shaft pushed at her entrance. He thrust inside, filling her completely. The rhythm was rough and deliciously hard before he surprised her by twisting, flipping them around until she landed on top of him. He urged her to straddle him, grabbing her waist and guiding until she was riding him, slowly at first and then faster and faster.

He tugged her forward, cupping her full breasts. Lifting his head, he took one tight nipple in his mouth. Her rhythm broke as he licked and bit the swollen bud. Grabbing his head, she held on tight while the spasms started again.

His hands kept moving, running over every inch of her skin. He palmed her ass cheek, kneading and stroking as he flipped over so he was on top. Then he withdrew, nearly breaking her heart. But her disappointment was temporary. He sat back on his haunches and pulled her on top of him. Happy to oblige, she straddled his lap again, although now they were sitting in the middle of the bed.

Sighing contentedly, her breasts rubbed against the sprinkling of hair on his upper chest with delicious friction. Pressed tightly together, she rocked with him, their movements perfectly in sync.

This was more than sex. She knew it in her heart. Tears stung at her eyes and she clung to his shoulders harder, trying to hold on with a desperation that came out of nowhere.

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