Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Gino had never felt such tension before.
Born with an unswerving belief in himself, he’d gone through life like Midas, turning everything he touched into gold.
If he wanted something, he stopped at nothing to get it.
Often, he didn’t have to stop at nothing; the world bending to his will to make whatever he wanted to happen, happen.
The world wasn’t bending itself to his will now. He’d never been in a position like this. Never felt such a weight of responsibility pressing so tightly on him. Sickness roiled in his guts, so strong he doubted arousal would even be possible.
Lying beneath the duvet beside Francesca, he fixed his stare to the ceiling and tried to find breath.
He could feel the heat of her naked body just inches from his own.
Could feel the tension vibrating from it too…
except her tension felt different to the tension so tight in him.
In Francesca, he sensed smothered terror and nervous excitement.
Clearing his constricted throat, he turned his face to her. He caught a brief glimpse of her profile before she turned her face to his. Her cheeks turned into a flame as her bottom lip pulled in.
Her beautiful eyes were full of apprehension but also resolve.
He pulled in a breath through his nose.
In the shower, he’d game-played in his head how he would approach this. Francesca wanted him to teach her about sex, so he would adopt the mindset of a teacher. Of course, he’d done this mental game-playing whilst hoping he would leave the bathroom and find her in her own bed.
“How big a virgin are you?” he asked. It was possible she’d fooled around with boys when she went to university.
Only a slim possibility because her father had always driven her to her lectures and picked her up the moment they were finished.
It was also possible she’d caught the eye of a co-worker during the fortnight she’d worked at the chateau, or even one of the tourists.
Her laugh was low and shaky. “The biggest. I’ve never even kissed a man before.”
His heart sank even lower. “And yet you flirt so well.”
“I watch a lot of romcoms. And horrors,” she added. “Although there’s not so much flirting in the horror movies.”
“I shall try not to make this into a horror for you.”
“I know.”
He could laugh. His hostage had greater faith in him than he did.
“You are sure you want to do this?”
“Yes.” There was no hesitation.
“Okay, then it is my turn to propose a deal.”
Her eyes narrowed with suspicion.
“It will drive us both crazy if I check in every minute to ask if you’re comfortable or enjoying it or if I’m hurting you, so I want you to promise me that if you want me to stop, you tell me. Okay?”
Eyes widening, she nodded. “Okay.”
“I don’t care what the reason is; if you want me to stop, then you tell me, and we stop.”
She nodded again.
“Okay, now I want you to sit up.”
The line low on her forehead appeared.
“You’ve never kissed a man before, and now you’re lying naked beside one. If you sit up and keep the duvet tight around yourself, you will feel less vulnerable.”
Her cheeks reddened. “I don’t feel vulnerable.”
He half-smiled at this blatant lie. “Yes you do. Now do as you’re told and sit up for me.”
Only once she was upright with the duvet held tight beneath her armpits did Gino sit up too, dimming the overhead bed-light to its lowest setting before facing her.
With Francesca now cast in a soft, golden glow, he was reminded of the glorious paintings by the old masters who’d used the light-dark chiaroscuro technique to such dramatic effect.
But even Caravaggio would struggle to capture the full luminescence of her beauty, he thought as he lifted his hand and gently touched her cheek.
It was as soft as the glow illuminating her.
As still as a statue, she made no reaction, and yet he would swear he could feel the pounding of her heart vibrating through her skin. If she were to touch him, she would feel the strength of his own heart’s beat, too.
Skimming his fingers over her skin, he captured her chin and carefully brought his mouth to her succulent lips.
Their mouths lightly moulded together, Gino slowly moved his, trying to draw her trembling but stubbornly resistant lips with him.
“Relax,” he murmured, sliding his hand from her chin to the side of her slender neck. “And remember to breathe.”
She made a snuffly noise that could have been a choked laugh.
Gently knotting his fingers in her hair, he whispered into her mouth, “Follow my lead, Chicca. Close your eyes and remember there is nothing to be afraid of. I will take care of you.”
Her lips trembling even harder, her whole body now shaking, he was about to withdraw completely and suggest that she take the lead and set the pace when he felt the pressure of her mouth compressing on his.
They stayed like that for the longest time, their lips touching but not moving, doing nothing but breathe each other in until he judged the time right to move his mouth in another caress… and this time felt the slightest movement in response.
Little by little, with a patience he hadn’t known he possessed, he coaxed Francesca’s lips apart, and when her breath seeped into his mouth, he felt its sweetness infuse into his senses before it swirled and melded with his own breath.
So many sensations were firing through Francesca that her mind was in danger of melting from the overload.
There was a tingling warmth in the pit of her stomach, spreading in tiny increments with every gentle caress from Gino’s mouth, slowly melting the paralysis that had gripped her at the first touch of his hand on her cheek when panic had set in that she didn’t know what to do.
The vulnerability she’d denied only moments earlier had embraced her in a chokehold until his murmured words of assurance had gently chiselled through it, bringing her back to herself, and when his tongue slid slowly into her mouth in a beguilingly gentle exploration, the last of the paralysis fell away.
The kiss slowly deepening, the fingers nestled in her hair drifted down her neck and brushed over her shoulder to trail lazily down her arm, trailing tiny darts of electricity through her flesh.
When he reached her fingers, he threaded his through them before sliding back up and skimming along the line where the top of the duvet met her chest.
His mouth breaking away, he rubbed his cheek to hers. The soft bristles of his beard scratched deliciously into her skin.
He pulled his head back to gaze into her eyes.
Whatever he was searching for must have been answered, for he brought his mouth back to hers and, as he bestowed her with another slow, dizzying kiss, he pinched the top of the duvet and began to push it down, skimming it leisurely enough that she could stop him if she wanted.
Her heart beating faster than any hummingbird’s, thick, squirming excitement was building in her…
on her… through her… but when she felt the air on her exposed breasts, the erotic pictures of all those beautiful women hung in his den swam into her mind, and she swallowed back an unexpected swell of shyness laced with fear at what he would think of hers in comparison to all the others he’d enjoyed over the years.
Not just her breasts but her body as a whole. Her as a whole…
An arm wound around her waist, and, his mouth still fused to hers, she was gently lowered back down.
Her head resting on a plump pillow, the duvet now down to their waists, he propped himself on an elbow and gazed down at her.
Certain her heart was now trying to thrash its way out of her chest, she stared into eyes that were like black liquid, waiting with sick anticipation for what came next.
Stroking her cheek, he whispered, “You are allowed to touch me, Chicca.”
Touch him…
The thought was as dizzying as his kisses, and suddenly she became aware of the tingling yearn in her fingers and tried to summon the courage to lift her hand.
As if sensing her shyness, he smiled and took her hand.
Lifting it to his mouth, he pressed a kiss to her fingers before placing it on his chest, right above his heart.
Her eyes widened as the thuds reverberated through her palm, widening even more at the tremor she felt wrack through his magnificent body.
The strong column of his throat moved as he lowered his head to kiss her again.
Closing her eyes, she sighed into the kiss, parting her lips and entwining her tongue with his, her senses infusing with his taste that was so dark and compelling it made her crave more of it.
If kissing was all they did, she dimly thought as she timidly skimmed her hand over his chest, feeling the fineness of the dark hair covering it as a whisper on the pads of her fingers, then it would be enough, because kissing Gino was an experience in another realm to anything she’d yearned for…
It was a thought that vanished in a haze when his hand skimmed her breast, and she froze, her mouth no longer able to move, unable to draw breath.
“It’s okay, Chicca,” he murmured, gently kneading her breast. He brushed his lips to her ear. “Remember what we both promised.”
She swallowed, trying to breathe, trying to speak. “I… I…”
He lifted his head. His forehead furrowed as he gazed into her eyes. “Do you want me to stop?”
She trailed her shaking hand up his neck and grazed the short hair at the back of his head. Somehow she managed to force her whispered words out. “No. I just… I didn’t know I would feel like this.”
There was no mockery in his stare. “Like what?”
“Like a virgin.” A burst of laughter rose up her throat. It came out like a sob. “It’s terrifying, but…” Her lips curved into a wobbly smile. “I’m not scared.”
“You’re not?”
“No.” She took a shuddery breath and swallowed again. And then she smiled again. “It’s only terrifying because I’ve never done any of this before, but I’m not scared because I know you won’t hurt me.”