Page 81 of Promise Maker

Domenico caresses my body while I carry my fingersthrough his smooth hair, both of us moaning as our tongues entwine in sweetheat.

When the all-consuming kiss slows to an end, hestares at me intensely without letting go.

I lightly stroke his muscular jaw with my fingersand carefully look at the man I’m going to marry. The man I’m falling for sohard that it scares me.

“I want to be with you,” I say honestly. “I’m terrifiedof the rest, but Iwantyou.”

Domenico pulls his mouth into a pleased grin andtightens his grip on my body. “You already have me,tesoro.”A low growl seeps from his lips as he narrows his gaze. “There’s something youneed to sign.”

The marriage certificate.

I catch my breath and turn my head slowly fromside to side. “What am I getting myself into?”

“An eternity of protection and pleasure,” he sayscoolly.

“Hm.” That does excite me.

25

It’s hard to alleviate the jitters, especially nowthat it’s the night before the wedding.

My nervousness is keeping me awake.

Deciding some air might help, I crawl out of bedand wander to the balcony.

It’s late, with hardly any sounds coming from thetown down the hill.

I rest my hands on the railing, inhale deeply, andrelax my shoulders along with the exhale.

The hair at the back of my neck suddenly stands uplike static, and achill slithersdown my spine.

I feel his presence behind me.

I’m about to turn when his hand clamps over mymouth—the other loops around my waist.

“Shh,” Domenico whispers at my ear, and my heartgallops crazily with anticipation.

“Don’t say a word,” he orders in a sexy whisper,stirring even more shivers. “Stay still.”

He removes his hands.

A shaky air sputters out when he places ablindfold over my eyes, tying it at the back of my head.

“You’ll enjoy this if you trust me,” he says.Gripping my waist, he tugs me against him and growls at my ear. “Do you trustme,tesoro?”

“Yes,” I whisper and bite my lip.

Domenico turns me around and guides my steps untilwe come to a stop.

“Hands up,” he instructs.

I raise them high, moaning softly when his fingersgraze my skin as he lifts the tank top over my head.

He cups my bare breasts, making me whimper fromthe flicking of my hard nipples.

It’s damn near painful when he moves his hands,slowly and deliberately carrying them down my sides to the waistband of myshorts.

Domenico tugs it and the underwear to my ankles. Idon’t need him to tell me to lift my feet for him to remove them.

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