Chapter Nine #2
He dragged her into his embrace, to capture the thundering pulse in her neck with his lips, sucking the soft skin. Finding the curve of her bottom, he caressed the warm flesh, rocking her against his throbbing cock, to ease the pain.
The need swelled. And hardened.
He boosted her into his arms. ‘Wrap your legs around my waist,’ he demanded, his voice harsh—his need harsher.
She didn’t hesitate, cupping his cheeks, raining kisses over his face as he carried her into the bedroom, the ache in his leg for once obliterated by the throbbing agony in his cock.
He ground the turgid length against the juncture of her thighs…
Desperate to bury himself so deep inside her, he could make the pain go away.
For tonight, at least.
Tali sobbed, her lungs seizing, as Dario tossed her onto the huge bed.
The fire in her blood became an inferno as he towered over her.
His dark eyes remained fixed on her face, making her skin feel tight, and the swelling heat in her sex ache.
He threw off his jacket, then ripped open his shirt, making buttons pop.
‘Take off the dress, Tallulah,’ he demanded as he tore the shirt free of his trousers and tugged it off. His voice was surprisingly calm and controlled, but the feral harsh command had her racing to obey him.
She tugged the zip under her arm, shimmied out of the expensive satin.
But her lungs seized again, her gaze devouring the sight before her when he slung the torn shirt away.
His naked chest was as magnificent as the rest of him, the muscles bulging and flexing as he bent his head to unhook his trousers.
His pecs were contoured with dark hair that trailed down in a thin line past ridged abs, accentuated by the delicious V of his hip flexors.
He grimaced as he transferred his weight to his bad leg to drag off his trousers.
Sympathy echoed in her heart as the crisscross of scars on his thigh was revealed.
And she recalled the boy she’d known, lying for weeks in the bedroom in Westwick, insisting the drapes remain closed, often refusing to even acknowledge her presence.
She shook off the sentimental thought when he straightened, her gaze fixing on the thick outline of his erection distending the black briefs.
‘The dress, Tallulah,’ he said, his voice husky with need.
She scrambled to finish taking it off, aware of his hot gaze skating over her bared breasts in the half-light.
She folded an arm over her chest, suddenly brutally aware of her nakedness.
But when she stood, intending to fold the dress, he grasped her wrist.
‘Leave it,’ he murmured.
The rich satin dropped from her numb fingers as he lifted her chin with his other hand.
‘You are beautiful, Tallulah, you must not hide yourself from me.’ The words were gruff, and as commanding as always, but somehow also unbearably romantic, the hunger in his eyes making the hot spot between her thighs burn as he eased her arm down, to expose her fully to his gaze.
His thumb skimmed under a rouged nipple, sharpening the ache between her thighs.
‘Bellissima,’ he whispered, scooping the heavy flesh into his palm and bending to capture the tender peak with his lips.
She sobbed, grasping handfuls of his hair, her breath sawing out in ragged pants as he worked the engorged nipple—with his teeth, his tongue—sucking, stroking, nipping, tormenting…
The heat rose and twisted, becoming desperate.
He pressed the heel of his hand to her vulva, rubbed her through the sodden lace, then found her swollen flesh, to torture her there, too.
One finger, then two, stretched her, stroked her, locating a devastating spot which made her buck against his hold, trying to ride that delicious torment, her body no longer her own.
He murmured something in Italian, his tone gruff.
She clung to him, the pants turning to broken sobs, as the storm built, burned, forcing her closer to the abyss.
Her body quaked, but he kept her on that brutal edge, sucking her tender nipples in turn, holding her suspended, tormented, as his fingers drove deep, stretching her, possessing her, retreating to tease and circle her swollen clit but not taking her over.
‘Please, I need…’ she begged. Too close and yet too far.
‘Shh, bella, I have you,’ he soothed, his voice fierce with the same need tearing her apart.
Then he brushed his thumb over the swollen bundle of nerves. She cried out, breaking into a billion glittering shards of exquisite pain, furious pleasure.
She was still shivering, still shaking, the cloud of afterglow almost as brutal as the titanic orgasm, as he pushed her onto the bed.
She watched him—dazed, dizzy, disorientated—as he dragged off the briefs and freed the massive erection.
She lifted up on her elbows, the desire to stroke him, there, where he was so beautiful, as instinctive as it was unfamiliar. She’d had sex before, but it had never been like this—so stark, so wild, so elemental.
But when she reached for him, he snagged her wrist. ‘Do not touch me, Tallulah, I need to be inside you now.’
She swallowed, and nodded, the ache in her throat almost as vicious as the one between her thighs. Why did this feel like so much more than just sex?
‘Do I need a condom?’ he asked. ‘I am clean, I have never taken a woman without one—before you.’
It took her a moment to realise what he was asking—the urgency in his voice an even more powerful aphrodisiac than her recent climax.
‘I—I’m clean, too, my only boyfriend was in college, two years ago. And we used a condom, too.’
His eyes flared, the possessive gleam unmistakeable as he hooked his thumbs into her soaked panties and dragged them off. ‘And contraceptive?’
‘I—I have a coil…’ she said, barely able to breathe now, the anticipation building as fast as the emotional storm inside her. And never more grateful in her entire life for the heavy periods which had made the contraceptive device necessary.
‘Grazie a Dio,’ he murmured.
Grasping her hips, he spread her legs to position himself between her thighs. The huge head of his erection butted her sex. She braced, her fingers digging into his broad shoulders as his heavy length slid deep in one devastating thrust.
She groaned, the penetration so huge it was overwhelming. He was wedged to the hilt, stretching her unbearably. But when he pulled out, then rocked back, he went deeper still.
He cradled her cheek, hooked the hair behind her ear from the collapsed chignon. ‘It will be okay in a minute,’ he coaxed, his tone husky with tension. ‘You are very tight.’
She shifted beneath him, trying to ease the pressure, but brutally aware of the licks of pleasure starting to build again, despite the shocking intrusion.
‘And y-you’re very big,’ she moaned.
The erection twitched inside her as he let out a chuckle.
She writhed again, and his hands tightened on her hips, holding her still, her sex throbbing now in time with her heartbeat, the discomfort receding to be replaced by the driving need to take him even deeper, if that were possible.
‘Do not move, Tallulah,’ he groaned. ‘I do not wish to hurt you.’
She clasped his cheeks, the evening stubble abrading her palms as she stared into eyes as dazed with lust as her own.
‘I can’t be still. I can’t stand it…’ she gasped. ‘I want you to move.’
He grunted, then pressed his lips to hers, the fierce hunger on his face as glorious as the heavy weight inside her. ‘Va bene, bella,’ he murmured, the sound rough with relief.
He eased out then back, hitting the spot deep inside her he’d already found with his fingers. But this time, the thick stroke felt hasher, deeper, more devastating, her body’s reaction even more powerful, and overwhelming.
‘That feels so good,’ she moaned.
‘Sì molto buono,’ he groaned back.
Hard hands clasped her hips, the devastating thrusts becoming sharper, stronger, more furious, shooting her towards that desperate peak now with a speed that left her breathless.
She clung to his sweat-slicked shoulders, her fingers digging into the muscle to find purchase so she could lift into his thrusts.
She moaned as the brutal orgasm slammed into her at last, her exhausted body shattering, battered by the storm of sensations bursting free. And flew over the edge, as he shouted out his own release, his hot seed pumping into her as he followed her into the abyss.