Page 22 of The Venetian One-Night Baby

Sabrina moistened her dry lips. ‘Was it...amazing for you too? That night in Venice, I mean?’

He gave her hand a squeeze. ‘How can you doubt it? You were there. You saw what you did to me.’

She lowered her gaze and looked at their joined hands, thinking of their joined bodies and the sounds of their cries of pleasure that night. His deep groans and whole-body shudders. ‘It’s not like I have much experience to draw on...’

He brought up her chin with the end of his finger. ‘It was amazing for me, sweetheart. You were everything a man could ask for in a lover.’ His frown came back, deeper than before. ‘I just wish I’d known you were so inexperienced. Are you sure I didn’t hurt you?’

Sabrina placed her other hand on top of his. ‘Max, listen to me. You didn’t hurt me.’

He brought her hand up to his mouth, pressing his lips against the back of her knuckles, his gaze locked on hers. ‘When I saw you at my mother’s party last night I was considering offering you more than a one-night fling.’ He lowered her hand to rest it against his chest. ‘I would’ve been breaking all of my rules about relationships in doing so, but I couldn’t get you out of my mind. Or stop thinking about how good we were together.’

‘Then why won’t you make love to me again?’

His irises were a deep smoky grey, his pupils wide and ink black, and they flicked to her mouth and back to her gaze. ‘You’re making this so difficult for me.’ His voice was gravel rough and he leaned closer until his lips were just above hers. ‘So very difficult...’ And then his mouth came down and set hers aflame.

It was a soft kiss at first, slow and languorous, his lips rediscovering the contours of her mouth. But it soon changed when his tongue stroked across her bottom lip. She opened to him and his tongue met hers, his groan of satisfaction as breathless as her own. His hands came up to cradle her face, his fingers splaying across her cheeks, his mouth working its mesmerising magic on hers. The movement of his tongue against hers set off fireworks in her blood. Her pulse raced, her heart thumped, her need for him rising in a hot tide of longing that left no part of her body unaffected. Her breasts tingled at the close contact as he drew her closer, the satin of her nightgown sliding sensually over her flesh.

He lifted his mouth to blaze a hot trail of kisses along her neck to the scaffold of her left clavicle. ‘God, I want you so damn much...’ His voice came out as a growl, the warmth in his lips as hot as fire. He was making her burn for him. She could feel it smouldering between her legs, the slow burn of lust that he had awakened in her.

‘I want you too.’ She breathed the words against his lips, her tongue stroking his lower lip, tasting him, teasing him.

He sealed her mouth with his, massaging her lips in a tantalising motion that made her pulse and ache with feverish desire. His tongue danced with hers, an erotic choreography that made her senses sing. One of his hands slipped the shoestring strap of her nightgown down her shoulder, uncovering her right breast. He brought his mouth down to its rosy peak, his caress so gentle it made her shiver with delight. His teeth lightly grazed her nipple, his tongue rolling over and around it until she gave a gasp of pleasure. He lowered the other strap off her left shoulder, the satin nightgown slithering down to her waist, revealing her body to his feasting gaze.

‘You are so damn beautiful.’

Sabrina began to lift his T-shirt, desperate to touch his warm male skin. ‘I want to touch you.’

He pulled back to haul his T-shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor. He stood and came over to remove the tea tray from the bed and set it on top of a chest of drawers. He came back to her. ‘Are you sure about this?’

‘Never surer.’ Sabrina wriggled out of her nightgown, a part of her a little shocked at her lack of shyness. But hadn’t he already seen all there was to see? She loved the way he looked at her with eyes blazing with lust. It was the most ego-boosting thing to see him struggle to keep control. No one had ever made her feel as beautiful as he did. No one had ever made her feel proud to be a woman, proud of her curves, proud of her sounds as desire shuddered through her.

Max swallowed and stared at her for a long moment, seemingly still struggling with the tug-of-war between his body and his brain. Sabrina drank in the sight of him naked, his taut and tanned torso cut and carved with well-defined muscles that would have made Michelangelo drool and sharpen his chisel. She had never thought of a man as being beautiful before—it was a term usually applied to women. But in Max’s case it was entirely appropriate. There was a classical beauty about the structure of his face and body, the aristocratic lines and planes and contours reminding her of heroes—both fictional and historical—from times past.

Max gathered her close, his touch as gentle as if he were handling priceless porcelain. It made her skin lift and shiver in a shower of goose-bumps. ‘Are you cold?’ He frowned and glided his hand over her thigh.

Sabrina smiled and brushed her hand down the wall of his chest, suddenly feeling shy about touching him. But she ached to touch him. To caress him. ‘I’m not cold. I’m just enjoying being touched. You have such incredible hands.’

He brought his mouth back to hers in a lingering kiss that made her need of him throb deep in her core. Every movement of his lips, every touch of his tongue, every contact point of his body with hers made her desire build to the point of pain. There was a storm gathering in her feminine flesh, a tight turbulence that spread from her core to each of her limbs like all her nerves were on fire. There was a deep throbbing ache between her legs and every time his tongue flicked against hers, it triggered another pulse of lust that made it throb all the more. She moved against him restively, wanting more but not sure how to ask for it.

Perhaps he sensed her shyness, for he took one of her hands and brought it down between their bodies. ‘You can touch me.’ His voice was so deep and husky it made her skin tingle to think she was having such an effect on him.

Sabrina stroked him with her fingers, enjoying the satin-wrapped steel of his male flesh. He drew in a sharp breath as if her touch thrilled him as much as his thrilled her. ‘Am I doing it right?’

‘Everything you’re doing is perfect.’ His breathing increased its pace, his eyes dark and glittering with need.

She moved her hand up and down his shaft, enjoying the feel of him without the barrier of a condom. Skin on skin. The smoothness and strength of him making everything that was female in her do cartwheels of delight.

After a moment, he removed her hand and pressed her down so he was balanced above her on his elbows. ‘I don’t want to rush you.’

‘Rush me?’ Sabrina gave a soft laugh. ‘I’m practically dying here I want you so much.’

His slow smile made her heart trip and kick. ‘Slow is better. It makes it more enjoyable for both of us.’

She reached down to stroke him again. ‘Isn’t it killing you to hold on so long?’

His jaw worked as if he was reining in his response to her touch. ‘I want this to be good for you. Better than good.’

Sabrina’s heart was asking for more room inside her chest. He was the dream lover, the lover she had fantasised about for most of her adult life. A lover who put her needs ahead of his own. A lover who respected her and made sure she enjoyed every second of their lovemaking.

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