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He lifted his head and smiled at her, his blue eyes staring directly into hers. “I love you beyond all reason, Nicoletta Ferraro. You are my sanity.”
He brushed kisses over her chin and then his palm fit around her throat like a collar. So gentle. Loose. Her heart beat into his hand. She knew they both felt it. The hand slid down the valley between her breasts to her belly, where it stopped, fingers splayed wide.
“Someday, tesoro, our baby will be right here. I’ve thought of that so many times.”
He slid lower on the bed while he framed her flat stomach with both hands, brushing kisses over her skin until she thought she might burst into flames. She hadn’t known she was sensitive there. His strong white teeth suddenly nipped her, stinging, and her hips bucked as her sex clenched hard, a wild spasm of need, and her clit throbbed and pulsed, so inflamed she thought she would spontaneously combust.
“Taviano.” She hissed his name.
His arm locked over her thighs, holding her to the bed while he licked at the sting. “I like to put my mark on you. It pleases me to look at it. Or just to know it’s there beneath your clothing.”
“I’m on fire.” It came out a wail. She hadn’t intended to sound so … desperate, but she was. Desperate was the only adjective she could think of. He was making her desperate for him. For something. For anything. But he had to do it soon or she might not survive.
“Are you? For me? Are you on fire for me, Nicoletta?” His palm slid over her belly as he moved lower on the bed, then right off of it. She felt his movements more than saw them because she’d slung her arm over her eyes. Her hips were uncontrollable now, sliding shamelessly over the duvet, bucking, desperate for relief only Taviano could give her.
“Yes.” Her breath hissed out in a long, painful admission.
His long, very strong fingers slid through her dark curls and found the betraying dampness she couldn’t hide. He stroked caresses there and then his hands were on her thighs, pulling them apart. She felt the air, now cool on her hot entrance. She wanted to protest the way her thighs were spread so far apart, the way she was so open to him, but then his tongue ran up the inside of her right thigh and a dark moan slipped out instead of a protest.
The sensation of that velvet tongue lapping at her thigh, coupled with the rasp of the bristles on his jaw, built that terrible coiling pressure to an almost brutal need. She couldn’t have protested if she wanted to. She needed more. She needed Taviano to do exactly as he’d promised, no matter the cost. She wanted to be devoured and eaten like candy. She wanted him to send her tumbling over the edge into a freefall. She could only hope that he would catch her.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Taviano listened to the singsong sob hitching in Nicoletta’s ragged breathing. It was difficult to keep himself under control enough to pay attention to minute details, but he reminded himself it was necessary. She tasted like heaven. He knew she would. His woman. Dio, but she was perfect for him in every way.
He took his time, savoring the liquid honey on her thighs, easing closer and closer to the heat emanating from her entrance. He put his mark there, several of them, on either side, both left and right. Strawberries with his teeth marks. Her gasps and groans, the addicting cream he captured in his mouth when he gave her those little reminders of who she was married to, made him feel a bit like a caveman.
Nicoletta was his woman. His. He had felt alone for so long. No one knew him. No one had ever accepted the real him. He knew that wasn’t fair to his siblings, because chances were they would have unconditional love for him, but he also knew the knowledge of what had happened to him as a young boy would change their relationship subtly. Nicoletta just loved him.
Almost from the moment she’d opened her eyes on that plane ride back to Chicago from New York, he had seen the growing adoration in her eyes. She’d tried to hide it. She’d tried to escape him. He’d done everything in his power to encourage it. He’d found he needed her.
A year into her being with the family, he had gotten to the point that the nights he shared with other women after being in the shadows weren’t nearly as satisfying as they had once been. He didn’t like to be touched. Usually, he fucked a woman hard, was generous with jewelry or his photographs with the media so she could further her career, and then he got away quickly. Now he craved Nicoletta’s touch. He wanted her hands—and her mouth—on him. He wanted his cock buried in her body. And this—he wanted his mouth on her, tasting what belonged to him.
He was careful at first, lapping at her, suckling, watching her reaction before using his teeth to scrape along her clit and then suckle more. He used his tongue ruthlessly like a cock, stroking and caressing, fucking her, and then loving her. She writhed wildly, so he locked her down with his arm, his mouth doing exactly what he’d promised: devouring her.
Her hands found his hair, fisting there. At times she pulled on his scalp, the pain adding to the sensations whipping through his body like lightning strikes straight to his cock. She wasn’t quiet, and he loved hearing her moans and her cries. The little sob in her voice as he took her up further and further and then backed off. She was so ready, but he hated to stop. He didn’t want to lose this moment of intimacy with her. He might never get it back.
Her body shuddered and he put one hand on her belly, fingers wide to feel the tension coiling so tightly there. She was fighting the sensations, afraid now, near panicked at that pleasure spilling through her, fear creeping in at the unknown.
He added his fingers, curling one deep, stroking the little bundle of nerves while he worked her clit with his teeth and tongue. “Now, amore mio, let go. Just let go. I’m right here with you. You have to trust someone. Let that someone be me.” He kept his voice gentle when he wanted to growl like a wild animal. His own body was making demands, so hard, full and painful, he feared he might make a fool of himself like some hapless teenager. He used his tongue, fluttering, probing, lapping, all the while keeping up that persistent stroking.
He knew the exact moment she chose to surrender to him. To give herself to him fully. To trust her body to him. One moment her entire body was shuddering, fighting the need to come, the tension in her making her almost rigid, and then she just gave in, relaxing, breathing, letting her body take over.
The orgasm swept through her like a tidal wave. Strong. Powerful. Sending shock waves through her. He felt ripples through her belly and down her thighs. He lapped at the hot liquid and then suckled, drawing that sweet honey out with his tongue so he could have more. He knew he should stop—her gift of trust to him was a tremendous one—but he couldn’t quite relinquish his place between her thighs. Not yet. Not when her taste was so addictive.
He sent another orgasm crashing through her and then a third. She screamed through the third one, and when he licked at her, she nearly sobbed his name, jerking at his hair. He lifted his head. “Are you too sensitive for more, because I love this. I could do this all night.”
He watched her face. She wanted this as much as he did. He could see the beauty there, the pleasure, the triumph. When he ducked his head and lapped at her again, he got the same reaction. The fist in his hair jerked hard, and this time her hips did the same. Yeah. She was too sensitive to continue.
Nicoletta flung her arm over her eyes, struggling for breath. “Dio, Taviano. If you kept that up, I think I would have died.”
He laughed softly and rubbed his face on her thighs before kissing his marks on her. He loved looking at them. His cock hurt like a bear and he needed relief desperately. Any movement made it known that he was going to have to hit the shower soon. He tugged down his zipper and managed to get his trousers off. They didn’t wear underwear in the shadows. It was one less thing to worry about. He took a deep breath the moment he was free of the confining material. He would have liked to climb on the bed with her, but not like this, not naked with his cock standing stiff and demanding. His fist circled the base. He gripped hard. Even that felt good.
“Taviano.”
He closed his eyes. Her voice. There was too much temptation, too much seduction, and he was too far gone. He shook his head, but he didn’t step away when she slid off the bed and went to her knees in front of him.
“Piccola, you did exactly what we’d hoped. We don’t want to ruin it.”
His fist slid up and down his cock. Dio, it felt good. He gripped harder, looking down at her mouth. Those lips. There was a faint mark on her lower lip where he’d bitten her. The thought of his cock in her hot mouth, his hand on her throat while she swallowed his come, all the while looking into his eyes—that would be sexy.
He dropped his gaze to her breasts. His mark was there as well. He could pump his cock and empty himself all over those beautiful breasts. Rub his essence into her like lotion. Feed her some with his fingers. Watch it drip from her nipples. The thought made him harder than ever, and drops leaked from the head of his cock.
He wished her thighs were open so he could see the strawberries he’d put there. Without thinking, he touched her knee with his foot, nudging just a little, his gaze still on her face. Her lashes fluttered, but her gaze remained on his fist sliding, pumping his cock. That fact that she watched him made him hotter than hell. She opened her knees wide and there was the evidence of his claiming, the bright chains of strawberries. She was slick; that addicting cream was all his.
Her hand brushed his heavy sac and desire shot through him like an arrow. She stroked and squeezed gently and then her mouth was there, licking and tracing every tight seam with her tongue. His breath caught in his throat. He knew he should stop her, but her hand was back, fingers splayed wide, and she was jiggling his sac. It felt as if the massaging waves rose in slow motion from his balls to the base of his cock, and then spread in a pounding ecstasy through his cock. He’d never felt anything quite like it.
“Dio, Nicoletta, you’re killing me, tesoro.”
A heartbeat went by. Two. Suddenly the gentle massage was gone, and she was doing something completely different, her fingers deftly rotating his large balls in her palm, at least it felt like that was what she was doing. That sent streaks of fire racing up his cock. Fast. The flames licked along the base, rushed along the shaft, burned under and then over the crown until he wanted to throw back his head and roar.
She moved then, her mouth sipping and then suckling at his balls, working her way up to the base of his cock. Her tongue flicked over his fist, teased between his fingers and then curled along his shaft. His heart nearly stopped as her eyes met his. His breath was instantly trapped in his lungs. He didn’t know what he expected to see in her eyes, but it wasn’t dark desire. It wasn’t stark lust. It wasn’t raw love. All three of those emotions were there, mingled together. Her gaze, her expression, was hot.
She licked her lips so that they gleamed at him. The little bite mark on her lower lip glistened. He couldn’t help himself. He rubbed the head of his cock over the mark, deliberately leaving drops behind. Her tongue came out, licked slowly, sensuously, along her lower lip until she’d lapped up every bit. Never once did her gaze leave his.
“I want more.”
“I think you’re getting greedy.” He loved teasing her.
“You took so much.” She pouted, the lower lip coming out even more.
Dio, he was going to come just looking at her. More hot seed bubbled up like lava. Her tongue glided up his shaft. Featherlight. Just the tip. She flicked the vee beneath his crown over and over and then licked at the leaking drops as if they were her favorite ice cream. He didn’t reprimand her. She was already back at his shaft, using the blade of her tongue, pressing into him, varying the pressure from one side to the other, until he was struggling to find his breath again. Her tongue was a wicked weapon and she wielded it with complete confidence.
Taviano pulled back. He needed some control. This was dangerous for both of them whether she knew it or not. She was enjoying herself and he was in paradise, but it could turn ugly in moments. He wasn’t going to let that happen for her.
“Baby.” It was a protest. “You had dessert. I get mine.” She had a beautiful pout.
“How do I taste?” He couldn’t resist asking.
“So good, the best. And all mine.”
That was the right answer. He was all hers. He rubbed his brutally aching cock along her lower lip and then pressed down in a silent command. She opened her mouth immediately for him, stretching wide to accommodate his size. He pushed inside slowly. A single sound escaped his throat. A low moan of pleasure.
Paradise. Hot. Wet. Exquisite. He narrowed his eyes, closing until they were mere slits. He needed to see her, but he wanted to savor the incredible feeling of her mouth turning into a vacuum. A tight suction. One moment, her tongue was lashing him, flicking hard, stabbing at him, then lapping and curling as she bobbed up and down his shaft; the next, she was hollowing her cheeks and sucking as if she meant to pull every bit of his boiling semen from his tight balls.
His hand dropped to her hair. He had been careful not to touch her, but he couldn’t stop himself. It was difficult not to feel dominant when she knelt at his feet, even though she was in that position voluntarily. He liked the way her gaze never left his face. He liked the expression of adoration in her eyes. She enjoyed what she was doing to him. She knew she was damned good at it.
Still, he needed to make it easier to stay in control. He felt for the bed. It was a good height. Slowly, he sank down, legs spread wide so she was between his thighs and he could push deeper. Just a little, watching her. Testing the waters to see if it scared her. She wrapped her hand around the base of his cock, freeing both his hands.
The tight erect buds standing up on her breasts called to him, and he reached down and caught her left one, first using his thumb to strum it, and then he flicked it before catching it between his finger and thumb and clamping down for just a moment. He watched her face the entire time. Watched the way she took the small sting and the blood rushing back when he let her loose. Color swept up her body and between her legs, fresh liquid glistened.
“You’re so perfect, Nicoletta. Can you take more of me?” He pulled back to let her breathe. She gave him a wicked smile and lifted her right breast as she leaned into him, widening her mouth as he pushed his cock toward her lips.
His thumb strummed and flicked and then he pinched her nipple, this time pushing deeper as her breath hitched. More of his cock slid into her mouth and he felt the narrowing. The roof of her mouth. The velvet of her tongue. The suction. The cage of teeth. His heavy vein pulsed with his heartbeat as his cock bore its way into that exquisite tunnel. Another inch.
“I’m not going to be able to stop in another minute, tesoro,” he admitted, his voice hoarse. He was barely able to control his hips. Already he was thrusting into her mouth. Small little pushes, but he had promised himself he wouldn’t take any control. His fingers had already fisted in her hair, holding her head tipped back and still. His other hand was wrapped around her throat so he could feel her heartbeat, that rapid rhythm that beat for him. It was possible, if she could do it, that he would feel the invasion of the thick bulge of his cock. The thought was exciting. His cock in her throat. Would she swallow him down? Swallow his semen? Take him that deep into her? Be that intimate with him?
He hoped he was man enough to stop when she said no. He needed her to tell him now. This minute, while he still had his sanity. Those dark chocolate eyes never stopped looking at him. Never once looked away. She didn’t hesitate. She actually swallowed, the sensation like a wet massage, constricting him like a vise, and then she relaxed and did it again and again. All the while she breathed through her nose. As she did so, he watched more of his cock slip into her mouth, and under his palm he felt that monster like an invader, working its way into her. Deep. His woman.
His balls drew up in a frenzy. The volcano was a fiery mass of hot magma and then he couldn’t think, only feel, as his body took over. He’d never experienced anything like she gave him, the release explos
ive, rocketing through his entire body, a wild ride that flung him somewhere into outer space. The orgasm encompassed every cell in his body, a violent, brutal eruption as jet after jet of semen was wrung from him.
Taviano was barely aware of anything but mind-numbing pleasure, that hot, wet cavern, the constriction, the ease and the lap of her tongue, so gentle, an exquisite torture. He collapsed across the bed, desperate to find his air, his lungs refusing to work, his mind nearly frozen. He was aware of Nicoletta moving, but he couldn’t even turn his head to see what she was doing, he was that far gone, something that had never happened in his life. He felt thoroughly drained, thoroughly sated—and he hadn’t even been inside her yet.
On that thought came another, his mind beginning to slowly function again. Too slow. He groaned, rolled over and buried his face in the duvet. This was supposed to be for Nicoletta. All for her. An introduction to lovemaking, not just sex, but real love between a man and a woman. He wanted to show her something selfless. Unconditional. Give her something, her first real orgasm, a beautiful, loving gift between a husband and a wife. She had admitted she had perfected her oral sex techniques—just as he had—in order to avoid anything else.
He groaned into the duvet and then hit it with his bunched fist. Thumped the mattress twice. Had he played right into her hands? He hadn’t planned to make love to her. He wanted her to choose when the time was right, but had she decided to ensure that he didn’t touch her by falling back on a tried-and-true method? He detested that. He didn’t want to be in the same category as her step-uncles, or Benito Valdez, a man she thought she had to control with her mouth.
The mattress dipped and he felt her crawling up onto the bed beside him. Her hand slid up his bare back. It was an intimate gesture and surprised him. Nicoletta rarely touched him of her own accord.
“What’s wrong, Taviano?” She sounded hesitant but determined. “Did I do something wrong? You need to just tell me if I did.”