Stefano kept Francesca’s body very close to his as they rode the elevator up to his apartment, so close she could feel the heat of his body scorching her right through her clothes. The pads of his fingers continued to trace his name along the back of her thigh, up close to the cheeks of her butt, his fingertips brushing along her bottom as well. She’d worn a thong and he had a lot of skin to explore. He did so almost absently, while she was a bundle of nerves, her heart beating wildly out of control.
His arm was a steel band just under her breasts, locking her in front of him. His erection was long and thick and jerked hard against her back as the elevator ascended. He didn’t speak, but the hand tracing his name into her skin suddenly cupped her bottom, fingers pressing deep, almost to the point of pain, but it was an exquisite pain, sending darts of fire straight to her sex.
The elevator jerked to a stop and the doors opened. He caught her up without preamble, just swung her into his arms as if he couldn’t take another moment without her. He strode into the apartment straight to the nearest surface, the long, narrow, gleaming sideboard that jutted out from the decorative post to serve as a partial room divider. Sweeping the sideboard clean of the books, he laid her down, his body coming over hers to pin her there.
Stefano’s mouth found hers, and the kiss was unlike anything she’d ever known. Devastatingly sweet turned instantly hot, hard and demanding. The kiss continued to evolve, going rough and insistent before his mouth left hers and began to trail a path of kisses, nips and licks down to her chin. Francesca’s hands clutched either side of his skull, holding on in an effort to stay anchored and sane as he continued kissing his way down her throat.
He sucked gently at her skin and then laved the spot with his tongue before proceeding to the next spot as though he planned to cover every inch of her with teeth, lips and tongue. His hand slid up her inner thigh, the pads of his fingers like hot brands, tracing his name into her sensitive skin there. She squirmed, bucking her hips, needing more contact, feeling as though a fire burned out of control between her legs.
He caught at the front of her dress–the beautiful, exquisite designer dress he’d bought her–and ripped the thin material right down the front, so that her generous breasts spilled out. Instantly his mouth covered her right breast, pulling her nipple deep. The nearly painful pleasure had her arching her back, trying to come up off the narrow sideboard, a little cry of pure need escaping.
The hand at her thigh caught at her damp panties, tugged hard and tossed them away, onto the elegant floor of his apartment. Francesca could feel the hard, cool surface of the marble sideboard against her bare butt. His fingers went straight, unerringly, to her clit, and another strangled sound escaped, this one nearly a sob.
“Stefano.” His name came out low, needy, more of a whispered pant than anything else. “That feels . . . extraordinary.”
His mouth moved over the curve of her breast, suckling gently, and then he lifted his head, his fingers still working between her legs. His gaze was fierce, possessive, the blue so dark with hunger her womb spasmed.
“How many men have fucked you?”
Shocked, she let her eyes fly open and both hands went to his wrist, the one between her legs. She tried to pull his hand away, but he was far too strong. She couldn’t sit up, couldn’t move; he had her pinned there like a butterfly stretched out on a mat.
“Stefano.”
“Answer me. How many?”
She blushed. An entire body blush. Her body had melted until she fe
lt boneless, incapable of fighting the flood of need his fingers produced. He didn’t look away from her, his blue eyes boring into her, mesmerizing, demanding her response.
“That’s none of your business.” Her voice was low, shaky even. He was scaring her just a little bit. She was alone with him and her body had long since betrayed her. She knew she would never get over wanting him. His mouth. His touch. She felt empty, and she needed him to fill her.
“Fucking answer me now, Francesca.”
Even his voice was scary. She couldn’t imagine anyone disobeying him. He didn’t raise his voice; in fact, if anything he lowered it. She lay there, totally exposed, naked, his fingers inside of her, moving in a hard, stroking rhythm that sent her brain into total chaos.
She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue and capitulated. “One. I’ve had one man. Once.”
He stilled. Even his fingers. She writhed. Bucked her hips. Needing those strokes. She’d been close. So close and now it was all fading away. He was still in his suit, even his jacket, and she was naked, her bare butt on a marble sideboard. Her hips moved involuntarily, but he didn’t take the hint.
“One? Once? Did the fucker even get you off?” He sounded angry. As if her admission had enraged him.
Now even the fact that his finger was still pressed over her clit and another one had worked its way inside her, stretching her, causing a slow burn, couldn’t keep that feeling of terrible need going. She pulled desperately at his wrist, trying to remove his hand so she could sit up.
“Stefano, let me up.”
“Not a fucking chance in hell, Francesca. Now answer me. Did he make you come? Was it at least good for you? Did he take his time?”
“Why are you asking me?” This was so humiliating. He was pure stone, with the exception of his eyes. She hadn’t known blue could turn into a flame. That desire could be so intense it was stamped into every line of his face.
“Bambina.” He made an effort to gentle his voice. “My cock is as hard as a fucking steel spike. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m on the very edge of my control. I don’t want to hurt you and I need to know just how much you can take. I’m feeling rough, brutal even. I want to fuck you so hard you feel my cock all the way in your belly. In your throat. So please answer me, dolce cuore.”
One possessive hand swept down her body, from her neck to the vee at the junction of her legs. The finger pressing down on her clit moved. Circled. Sent waves of lightning streaking through her. Just like that she couldn’t see straight. Couldn’t move. She belonged to him. Would always belong to him.
Francesca shook her head. “No, it wasn’t good.” The admission came out a whisper. “You’ve made me feel more just now than I ever felt with him.”
There was a silence as his blue gaze moved over her body. “You’re mine, Francesca.” He made the statement quietly.
Her heart pounded. It was the way he said it. The way his blue gaze branded her, every inch of her.
“Your body is mine. No one touches you. No one else ever puts their hands or their mouth on you. I’m not easy, dolce cuore, but I’m yours. I swear that to you. I’m yours, and I’m going to make you feel so good.” He didn’t wait for a reply, bending to take her mouth.
Her heart stuttered as his declaration and kiss swept every bit of sanity out of her head. He kissed his way to the swell of her breast, sucking and nipping with his teeth until the little stings and soothing caresses had her gasping for breath and moaning low in her throat. His mouth and teeth trailed fire right down the center of her body, to her belly button, where he paused to swirl and dip his tongue, and then his mouth continued the journey, to claim every inch of her body. He sucked hard in spots, bit down until she jumped or cried out with the shocking bite of pain and then the soothing caress of his tongue. Just like that, he took her back to that place, surrounded by him, willing to be his, needing him.
He dragged her body closer to the edge, forcing her legs over his shoulders as he continued the assault on her senses, his tongue sweeping across her clit so that she nearly jumped right out of her skin. She heard her low, keening cry filling the room as his tongue began a dance over her most sensitive spot, flicking hard and then softly stroking until she thought she’d go insane with need. He began to suckle, a strong, hard pull, while his tongue continued to flick and tease until she was thrashing wildly.
Nothing had prepared her for his assault on her nerve endings. Not that first fumbling boy who had come too fast and left her hurting and embarrassed, vowing never to try sex again. Not her own fingers when she was desperate for something she didn’t understand, chasing a feeling that would never come.
Stefano was relentless, not giving her time to think or breathe. He just took over her body, his finger sliding into her wet tightness, curving, finding that perfect spot deep inside she hadn’t even known existed. The gathering tension coiled so tightly she knew a tsunami was coming.
“Touch your nipples, Francesca,” he ordered. “Pinch and pull, hard. Like I did. Don’t be afraid of being rough. You like that. Every time I bit down, I could feel how wet you got for me. So hot. So slick. I want to watch you.”
She’d never done anything like that, but she didn’t think to disobey him. Her hands slid up her body to cup the weight of her breasts in her palms and then she flicked her nipples experimentally. She wanted his mouth back. He was poised, right there. She could feel his breath on her clit, his lips so close. His eyes, those twin blue flames, burned into her, watching her, waiting for her to do as he told her. She knew if she didn’t, he wouldn’t give her what she wanted.
Her fingers pinched her nipples. Tugged. Rolled.
“Harder, bella.” His lips, when he spoke, teased her clit.
A moan escaped. His demands only made her body climb higher with need. She did as he said, tugging harder. Pinching and pulling. Streaks of fire raced straight to her center so that her inner muscles spasmed, contracted, so close, the terrible pressure building even more. His shoulders held her legs spread wide, while his mouth worked at her and his finger continued to push that need to the breaking point.
She writhed and tried to push against him. She needed a moment. Just one moment to catch her breath, to get back her sanity, to try to still her wild mind enough to think, but he pressed one hand flat on her belly, fingers splayed wide, easily controlling her, holding her in place so that she had no choice but to plead for release. She begged him as he took her close several times, but stopped or slowed before she could tip over the edge.
He plunged a second finger into her without any warning, simultaneously giving her an order. “Now, baby, come for me now.” She did, screaming, as her body shattered, fragmented, her back arching, her hips bucking, a sob welling up as the tsunami roared through her.
Stefano’s blue eyes were dark with satisfaction, arrogance stamped into every sensual line. He slowly straightened, taking her legs with him as he did so. He ran his hands over her body, from her breasts, down her narrow rib cage to her belly and then along her thighs. Francesca couldn’t move, her body so boneless she thought she might have melted into the marble she lay on.
He reached down and caught both her wrists in one hand, pulling his tie from around his neck with the other. He wrapped the soft tie quickly around her wrists and then pulled her arms above her head, securing the loop he’d made into a hook built into the wall at the end of the sideboard. He accomplished the entire thing with dizzying speed. She actually didn’t comprehend what he’d done until he stepped back from the table, slowly shrugging out of his jacket, his eyes never leaving her face. He smiled, a feral, predatory smile as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt while the fact dawned on her that she was his captive.
Francesca tugged at her hands, still dazed, watching him as his hand slowly undid his belt buckle and unzipped the fly of his trousers. “Stefano?” Her voice was weak with excitement and trembling with fear.
“You’re all mine, amore, and you’re going to have no doubts about that by the end of this night.”
She had no doubts already and watching him remove his trousers to reveal his heavy erection only
added to the scorching heat building so fast inside her. He was impressive and beautiful to her. She’d never thought a man could look so hot as he stepped in close again.
“You on birth control, Francesca?” he asked. His hand slid down her belly to the junction of her legs. His hands stayed right there, waiting for her answer.
She couldn’t find her voice, so she just nodded.
“I’m clean, dolce cuore. I’ve never fucked a woman without being gloved. Not ever.” He had her spread wide still, his body forcing her legs apart while his hand circled the girth of his cock. “You come when I tell you, Francesca. You understand me, bambina. When I say. I’m going to make this good for you, but you listen to me and do what I say.”
She shivered at the sheer arrogance, at the intense hunger in his hooded gaze. He bent to flick her nipple with his tongue and then he used his teeth, biting down while he rubbed the head of his cock over her clit, back and forth. She nearly exploded again, the bite of pain adding to the pleasure storming through her.
Francesca hadn’t thought it would be possible to be so needy again so fast, but within moments she was squirming, trying to impale herself on that teasing spike that rubbed so seductively over her very sensitive bud.
“Look at me, Francesca. Keep your eyes open and keep looking at me while I take you.”
The hard authority in his voice sent more liquid heat to bathe her entrance. He mesmerized her, captured her with his sheer personality. She couldn’t have looked away even if the room filled with people. She was well and truly his.
Stefano slid his cock inch by inch, as slowly as he possibly could, into Francesca’s scorching sheath, drawing out the moment as long as possible, savoring the feeling of her oh so fucking tight channel reluctantly giving way for him. He could feel every heartbeat right through his cock. He’d never been so hard in his life. So near the loss of control when control was everything to him.
It might make him the biggest bastard in the world, but he liked that she was his to teach all the things he liked, the things he needed. He was a jealous son of a bitch, although that trait was brand-new, just emerging since he’d found her, but the thought of another man with his cock inside her made him killing crazy. He could understand why he’d been taught discipline at an early age. One couldn’t hunt down some boy who had stolen his woman’s virginity from him and kill him, although he acknowledged the urge to do so was there. He didn’t ask his name because he didn’t fully trust himself to act in a civilized manner. He didn’t feel civilized when he was around Francesca. He felt primitive, a savage brute who would keep his woman away from other men by any means available to him.
He loved watching her eyes widen with shock as he pushed through those tight, scorching-hot petals. So tight she was strangling the life out of him, but he was going to die a happy man. It was a form of ecstasy, the pleasure and pain mixing until he wasn’t certain where one began and the other left off, but there was no way he’d ever stop. No. Fucking. Way.
Finally, he managed to bottom out, forcing her body to take all of him. He was long and thick and she was so tight that for a moment he had to fight for control to keep from spilling his seed right there and then. Fucking perfect.
He stared down at her, his cock swelling impossibly more at the sight. She was spread out like a feast, his marks all over her. Bite marks branding her as his, purple circles coming up where he’d suckled her delicate skin, forming a pretty necklace that declared to the world she belonged to a very possessive man.
Watching her eyes, he pulled back slowly, savoring the feeling of her tight muscles dragging over his throbbing cock as he withdrew. Blood pounded through the thick, heavy spike in time to his heartbeat, proclaiming his hungry, urgent need. Her eyes widened. Her mouth formed a perfect little O. He loved how she looked, her breasts jutting upward, nipples tight, arms stretched over her head, hands bound together, his marks all over her little curvy, smoking-hot body. His. All. His.
He tried for control. For careful. Mindful of her innocence. Mindful that she was new at this. But heaven help him, she started moaning. Whimpering. Mewling like a little kitten. Her body writhed and bucked and deep inside he felt the tremors, the way her tight muscles milked and gripped. It would have been too much for a saint and he was the devil himself, so there was no way to stop him from driving deep. Francesca let out a small scream that vibrated right through his cock, destroying his self-control completely.
He slammed home. Brutally. Rough as sin. Fire streaked through him. White lightning. She cried out as his fingers dug deep into her hips and yanked her into him as he hammered into her. Over and over. Not letting up. Taking her. Pounding without mercy for either of them.
His hands cupped her ass, that beautiful delectable, edible ass he loved to watch as she walked. He’d dreamed of her ass, had multiple fantasies about it. He dug his fingers into her and held her pinned, completely immobile while he lost himself in her. He’d never fucked so hard in his life. She screamed when he bore down hard over her clit. Thankfully that hadn’t been a scream of pain. He wasn’t certain he could have slowed down or stopped.
Francesca stared at him with dazed, shocked eyes. Obeying him. Remembering on her own to let him see what he was doing to her. How she was reacting. He was out of control, but thank fuck she gave him her eyes so he could ensure she was enjoying what he was doing to her. Her breasts jolted invitingly with every brutal thrust. Her breath came in ragged, gasping pants, adding to the music of her whimpers, screams and the sound of his name, so breathy he wanted to double his efforts to hear more. He’d never seen anything so fucking hot in his life.
Stefano couldn’t pretend he hadn’t been with a lot of women before Francesca. He’d felt momentary pleasure–a lot of pleasure. The truth was, he had an intense job, and fucking was release to him. It was good and he liked it, but being with Francesca wiped out every other time before her. He knew he would never forget this moment as long as he lived. The way she looked. The way he felt. His cock was in fucking heaven, the pleasure ripping through his body, until every nerve ending he had was a part of the fireball streaking through him.
He used his hands to control her hips, to place her in the best position, tilting her until he heard her gasp as his cock sawed over her clit and hit that sweet spot deep inside her over and over. The pounding beat thundered in his ears, roared through his body as he felt her shudder from the pleasure he created with his cock hitting that perfect spot. He wanted to feel her come apart from the inside.
He watched her face. Her eyes. Her head thrashed and she moaned continuously, her breath hissing out of her. She was close. So close. He wanted it all from her. Her orgasm, so strong she convulsed, her submission, so total she knew she belonged to him. He wanted her to know he gave that to her, an all-consuming rush of fucking heaven.
“Keep looking at me, dolce cuore–don’t look away. Stay with me.”
Her lashes had begun to drift down, her head turning to one side. At his command, she struggled to obey.
“Francesca, come now for me. I want to feel it. Let go for me.” He wasn’t asking. He poured steel into his voice as he hammered deep.
He rammed into her over and over, harder than ever, each thrust jolting her body. He was merciless, relentless, pounding his cock right into her G-spot. “Now, baby,” he reiterated. “Let go.”
Francesca’s gaze clung to his, and he knew the exact moment she gave herself to him. The submission. The trust. She let go and gave herself into his keeping. She screamed, loud and long, a wail that filled the room as her sweet, scorching-hot sheath clamped down on his cock like a fucking vise, taking him with her. Her body shook, breasts dancing, hips bucking, legs stiffening as she mewed, her inner muscles convulsing over and over, as her climax ripped through her. Jet after jet of hot seed pumped into her, filling her, prolonging and adding to the strength of her orgasm.
He stayed locked to her, feeling her body convulse around his, over and over, the aftershocks nearly as strong as the continuous climax. He had no idea until then that perfection could actually be achieved, but that moment was utter perfection. Looking at her. The dazed look in her eyes. Her flushed body covered with his marks and brands. He fucking loved that. His body joined with hers so that they shared the same skin. Her sheath, so scorching hot surrounding him, still milking his cock while his seed boiled inside of her.
He wished he had recorded it, so he could replay his claiming her over and over. If he could have, he would have ordered his name tattooed across her breasts. He’d have it branded on her ass. He wanted every other man in the world to see her like this, under him, in complete and total submission. He’d been a selfish bastard taking her like that, but he wanted her to know who he was, the kind of man she’d be living with. He’d been half terrified that she wouldn’t be able to take him, but she’d loved every single thing he’d done to her. Yeah. She was exactly what he needed in his bed.
His woman. A woman he never believed he’d ever have. Not. Fucking. Ever. He hadn’t believed he would have anything or anyone that was totally his alone. He’d lived his entire life knowing his life wasn’t his own and never would be. He’d been born a shadow rider and that meant he had responsibilities not only to his family, but to others. He couldn’t walk away from those responsibilities, not ever.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Francesca,” he said. “I’m not nearly finished with you. I’m going to take you in so many ways tonight you’ll be so sore you won’t be able to move tomorrow.” He wanted to come all over her beautiful breasts and rub his seed into her skin. Into her pores. Without unlocking himself from her body, he reached up and carefully unhooked his tie and gently pulled her arms down. The movement caused another powerful aftershock so that her sheath clamped down again, massaging life back into his cock.
She let out a small whimper and he immediately ran one hand down her body, from her throat to her belly in a soothing caress. “Relax, amore, let me get this.” He unwrapped her wrists and kneaded h
er arms, making certain the blood flow hadn’t been interrupted.
“Do you do that a lot?” The question was hesitant. Her voice trembled.
His gaze jumped to hers, trying to assess exactly what she meant. Exactly what was bothering her. “Do what?”
She gestured with her chin toward his tie. “That.”
“I would have used my belt, but the tie was softer.”
She took a breath, her face flushing. “Do you tie up all your women, Stefano?”
“I’ve never tied up another woman. Never. Why would I bother? They didn’t belong to me, bambina. You belong to me. Only you.”
Relief crept into her eyes. It wasn’t that he’d tied her hands that bothered her, only the thought that he might have done the same to another woman. He fucking loved that. Reluctantly he allowed his cock to slip out of her. For one brief moment he’d been sated. That was already gone. Just seeing her body spread out before him like a feast was enough to get him started again. Catching her ankles, he slowly lowered her legs from his shoulders to the sideboard and then he reached for her.
He swept her into his arms, cradling her close to his body. “Put your arms around my neck.”
“My clothes . . .” She looked around her a little helplessly.
“Sorry, bella.” He couldn’t quite help the laughter in his voice. “I destroyed them.” He strode through the large apartment to the master bedroom.
Her fingers clutched his shoulder. “My room is the other way.”
“This is your room. You belong with me.” There was no room for argument. She was sleeping in his bed and would for the rest of her life. “And you’ll sleep naked or in some hot little number that I’ll rip off you in three seconds flat. I want to feel your soft skin next to me, and know that all I have to do is roll over and push my cock deep inside you anytime I feel like it.”
He took her right through his bedroom to the master bath and set her feet on the tiles. With one arm locking her to him, he ran warm water over a washcloth and then crouched in front of her. “Widen for me, Francesca.”
She blushed. It was cute as hell, especially given the way he’d fucked her. He tapped her inner thigh when she didn’t obey him. She dropped a hand to his shoulder to steady herself but obediently spread her legs for him.
“I’d prefer to do that myself.”
She had a little snippy bite to her voice that made him smile. “You’re mine, bambina–that makes this my privilege.” He carefully washed her thighs and then pressed the cloth against her slick heat. “Did I hurt you?”
She shook her head. “You know you didn’t. It was . . . amazing.”
When he finished he leaned into her and pressed a kiss in the dark curls. “Go lie on the bed, Francesca. On your stomach.”
Her small white teeth sank into her lower lip. “Stefano . . .” She broke off when he gave her a hard look.
“I’m not fucking around tonight, dolce cuore. I waited too long for you. Go lie on the bed.”
She took a breath as he stood, deliberately towering over her, crowding her space. “Do you have any idea how scary you can be?”
He tipped her face up to his and leaned down to brush a kiss across her mouth. “Sadly, Francesca, you’ll get over that all too soon.” He turned her around, gave her a swat on her bare ass, at the same time giving her a small push toward the bedroom.
Francesca yelped and threw him a smoldering look over her shoulder, one hand rubbing at his handprint on her bottom as she made her way back into the bedroom. He threw back his head and laughed. She was everything. To the outside world, he had it all. But his brothers, his sister . . . He shook his head, his smile fading. His cousins in New York, the ones in San Francisco and those overseas, shadow riders, all of them had no life and no hope of one. Not one that belonged to them. Until Francesca.
Word had spread fast through the family that Stefano had found a woman and that not only was she capable of producing shadow riders, but he had fallen for her. They actually had real chemistry. It wouldn’t be a marriage of convenience, but a true love match if he could manage to make her fall for him. If he could keep her. For him, Stefano knew there wasn’t an if. He would keep her because now, for him, there wasn’t a choice. He couldn’t give her up. He wouldn’t have done so before he fucked her, but now, after having his cock inside of her, after feeling her tight, scorching body surrounding his, he’d move heaven and earth to make her happy. To keep her.
She represented hope for his cousins, for his brothers and sister. If Stefano could find Francesca, they had a chance. He glanced through the open doorway and his heart nearly stopped. His woman had done as he’d asked. She lay in the middle of the bed, facedown, nothing covering her bare body, just stretched out on top of the sheets, her face buried in the crook of her arm.
His heart swelled with pride. She was shy with him. A little scared. She had courage and had shown him more than once that she could stand up to him, but she’d chosen to obey his orders. She’d given him her trust again. He stood there a long time, one hip against the doorjamb, his gaze devouring her while emotions he’d never felt before threatened to overwhelm him.
He took his time cleaning his cock and thighs before going to her. She didn’t move when he put a knee to the bed and then straddled her thighs. “You asleep, Francesca?”
“Not yet. Just drifting.”
The drowsy note in her voice had his cock coming to attention. “Keep drifting.” He bent to press a kiss between her shoulder blades and then he reached down to run his fingers down her left arm. “Give me your hand, dolce cuore.” He shackled her wrist with his fingers and she turned it over.
Stefano pulled the ring out of the box sitting on the end table beside his bed and slipped it onto her finger. It looked good there. Perfect. A claim to the world that she belonged to him. If the world couldn’t see the necklace of love bites, or the brands he’d put on her skin with his teeth, then his ring would have to do.
She pulled her hand to her face the moment he released her. He felt the sharp inhale as she took in the exquisite diamond surrounded by glittering smaller ones, smaller, but no less beautiful. “Stefano, I can’t wear this.”
“You’ll wear it.” He began to massage her shoulders and back, using firm, hard strokes to ease the tension out of her muscles.
“It’s too expensive. What if I lose it?”
He liked that. She wasn’t afraid of wearing it to proclaim to the world she was his, only that she might lose it.
“Then I’ll buy you another one. You’re mine and it matters to me that everyone knows you belong to me. I don’t want other women like Janice or Doreen to make you doubt what I feel for you. When you’re not right beside me, I want you to have absolute confidence that you’re all I’m thinking about. You’re the one woman I care about.”
Her face was turned to one side, but he saw the small smile forming on her soft lips. He slid off of her, his hands catching her around her waist, pulling her up onto her knees and then pressing her chest to the mattress with one hand, leaving her ass in the air. He knelt behind her, his hands rubbing her bare cheeks. He was extremely fond of her ass, that firm, rounded, almost heart-shaped butt with a small dimple that he couldn’t help leaning into to bite.
She cried out, but she didn’t move from the position he’d placed her in, and when he pushed his fingers into her, he found her slick with her special brand of honey. “I love that you’re ready for me, Francesca,” he confessed.
“I think I’ll always be ready for you, Stefano,” she admitted. “Just the sound of your voice makes me wet.”
She couldn’t say things like that to him without his cock getting so hard it hurt like a bear. He pressed the broad, weeping head of his cock to her hot entrance and waited a heartbeat. Two. Savoring the moment. Loving the look of her. “I want my seed all over you and in you,” he declared fiercely. “I want to cover your back, your ass and your breasts, Francesca, and then rub it in. I want to fuck your mouth and come down your throat. I want you every single way I can have you. Does that scare you?”
There was a pause. A silence while his heart slammed hard in his chest and his cock throbbed with the need to be inside her.
“Only because I don’t know what I’m doing yet and I don’t ever want to disappoint you,” she replied softly.
He slammed into her. Deep. Watched his cock disappear into her and it was hot just holding himself there, very still, while his cock pulsed deep inside her. Taking her this way allowed him to go even deeper. She pushed back. Wiggled. Reminding him she wanted more. He laughed softly and swatted her heart-shaped ass just to see his handprint there, another brand. “Eager little thing. You can just wait. I’ll give you whatever you’re going to get when I’m ready.”
“Macho much?” she muttered.
He flexed his fingers on her hips. He loved when she defied him. Or talked back. He loved when she submitted her will to his. He loved her sexy body and the fire she surrounded him with. He really, really loved how fucking tight and scorching hot she was. He eased back, deciding to take his time and make this last. Then he heard her sharp gasp, the ragged little protest as she tried to chase him with her hips and he took her in another brutal, merciless assault. He hadn’t meant to, but her little sexy moans and whimpers, the pleas and soft little sobs, robbed him of control every time.
Stefano pounded into her, letting the thunder roar in his ears, hearing the music of her cries, feeling the absolute paradise of her sheath and he just gave himself up to that ecstasy. He took her up over and over, forcing her to shatter around him three times before he finally emptied himself in her. Before he collapsed on top of her, driving her down to the mattress with his heavy weight.
It took a long time before he could catch his breath enough to ease off of her. She moaned but didn’t move. He cleaned her up and then himself before falling into bed beside her.
“I swear, bella, a couple of more times and I’ll be able to find my gentle and take you slow and sweet the way I should have done the first time,” he promised, curling his body around hers. He pinned her by draping one thigh over both her legs and then cupped her breast in his hand, his thumb lazily strumming her nipple. He pushed his semihard cock into the sweet crease between her cheeks, so that it nestled there, all warm and happy.
“A couple of more times and I won’t be able to get up and go to work tomorrow,” she pointed out with a small, whispery laugh that played along his nerve endings. She pushed her buttocks back into the cradle of his hips, driving his cock deeper into her.
He fucking loved that. “I meant to talk to you about that, dolce cuore–there’s no need to work anymore. It might be a good thing if you let me tell Pietro that you aren’t coming back.”
She leaned down and sank her teeth into his arm. Hard.
“Dannazione donna! Seriously?”
“I’m working, and don’t you dare talk to Pietro. I mean it, Stefano. You do that, and I won’t be sleeping in this bed or this apartment. You don’t get to dictate to me.”
She didn’t lift her head from the pillow again; her tone was mild, but she meant it. That didn’t sit well with him.
“First, Francesca, don’t ever threaten to leave me. You won’t make it out the door. I want you very, very clear on that. Second, something matters to you, it matters to me, so just say so without the drama. The bite, okay, I get that, but not the threat. Are we clear?”
“Yes, honey, we’re clear,” she said softly. “Now I really have to sleep.”
“I was going to let you sleep,” he pointed out, “but now you fucking made my cock hard again with that bite. You have to take care of that before you can sleep.”
“You’ll have to do that work.”
“Fine by me. I wanted to fuck your breasts and cover you in me. That okay with you?”
“Everything you do is okay with me,” she said, and rolled over onto her back. “I might be a little afraid sometimes, Stefano, but I’m always willing to try.”
“Dio, bambina, you make me almost humble. I’m too fucking arrogant to actually be humble, but it’s there.”
He was rewarded with her laughter. He straddled her body, rubbing his balls along her belly. She felt so little under him. So soft. He cupped her breasts in his hands before leaning down to give them attention. “I’m going to see if I can make you come without doing anything but using my hands and mouth on your breasts and then I’ll fuck you right here. I won’t be cleaning you up, Francesca. You’re going to go to sleep with me all over you.”
“Why do I find that so hot? You’re making me wet all over again,” she accused. “Can you really do that?”
He proceeded to show her he could.
