Page 68 of Where Wild Hearts Dance
“What are you doing?” My voice trembles.
His gaze rolls slowly from my wild eyes, down my body to my strapped feet, and a smile dances across his mouth. Then just as quickly, his brow falls into shadow and the smile is wiped away with an inked knuckle.
“You need to learn a lesson, brat.”
I blink up at him, confused.
“I want you to feel the way I feel every single fucking day. How I’ve felt since I saw you at Gianni’s funeral.”
“What do you mean?” My voice trembles.
His chest concaves and he suddenly slams his fists into the table, bringing his face close to mine. “Fuckingneedy.”
My chest thumps with the echo of a frantically beating heart. He strokes an inked finger down my forehead, making my skin burn. “I need to know what’s going on in here.”
He slides his finger down my throat to my collarbone and then between my breasts. “I need to know what you feel in here.”
His finger trails a line of fire down my stomach over the satin dress and rests on the spot between my thighs. “I need to tastethis.”
I inhale sharply, but the sudden throbbing between my legs takes that breath away.
“You already did,” I whisper.
He glares at me, his bronze eyes now black. Then he grunts. “It wasn’tfuckingenough.”
He straightens to his full, intimidating height, then walks around to my feet and bends at the knees.
I lift my head off the table so I can see him.
His gaze holds mine and his voice drops low. “Was it enough for you?”
My entire body heats and I give a small shake of my head.
“What would be enough?”
His question makes me shiver. I haven’t dared ask it of myself but now I’m confronted with it, the answer makes me feel weak and vulnerable. So I don’t reply.
He places his large hands either side of me on the coffee table and lifts himself a fraction. “Would my mouth on yours be enough?”
I hesitate. My answer should be yes. That should be enough. But I know with haunting clarity it isn’t. I shake my head slowly.
He straightens his legs and hovers over my thighs. “Would my mouth on your pussy be enough?”
I squirm under his scrutiny, the need for friction becoming close to unbearable. I shake my head.
He moves higher up my body and grazes his nose along the channel between my breasts. It pushes the blue satin further up my thighs until the conditioned air is lapping at my underwear, sizzling against my hot skin.
“Would my mouth on your perfect tits be enough?”
My mouth falls open and a tainted moan escapes it.
I shake my head.
He walks his hands up the table until they’re either side of my breasts. He lowers himself, his biceps bulging through his shirt, until the hairs along his top lip are brushing the corner of my mouth. I’m so turned on I could cry.
“Do you want meinsideyou, Contessa?” he breathes heavily.
He nuzzles against my mouth then slowly lifts his head and looks hard into my eyes. “Wouldthatbe enough?”
