Chapter Three
HIS LIPS DESCENDED onto hers and Lily simply ignited.
She wrapped her arms round his neck, fingers spearing into his thick, coarse hair.
Gripping tight because she needed something to hold on to.
Her mouth opened beneath his, the kiss hard and taking, but giving at the same time.
The way his tongue slid slick over hers, his hands coming up to pull her close against his powerful body …
the strength with which he held her. It was dizzying.
‘Show her to me,’ Medici murmured against her lips.
How could she show him the real woman when she didn’t even know who that woman was?
The first thing had to be her hair, then some clothes.
She took a shaky step back and reached up, pulling out the pins that held her updo in place and letting them fall to the floor.
Her hair dropped down, curl by curl. Once free she raked her fingers through, and it spilled around her shoulders.
The man made a noise. A sharp exhale, almost like he’d been punched.
‘Sei bellissima … If you were beautiful before, you are a thousand times so now.’
The intensity of his gaze left her breathless. Ravenous, like he wanted to devour her.
What would he be like in the throes of passion? How would his large, muscular body feel over hers? But she didn’t want to be passive here, taking only what was given to her. She wanted to demand something for herself as well.
She cocked her head, trying for a look that was a little flirty. ‘So, are you going to just stand there looking, or are you going to do something about it?’
He threw his head back and began to laugh—deep, throaty, low. The sound rumbled through her, setting off tremors everywhere, igniting fires deep inside.
‘I believe we need you less dressed.’
‘What about you?’
The look of entertainment left his eyes, replaced entirely by naked desire. The heat of it was like a laser pointed in her direction.
‘As they say, ladies come first. Take a seat.’
Lily glanced behind her to the end of the bed, where a large ottoman was placed. She sat, and he knelt before her.
Medici reached down and gently gripped her ankle, lifting her foot off the ground and removing her shoe.
He slipped his hand up her leg, slowly easing higher and higher, his touch singeing through her as she was trapped by his intense brown gaze.
She’d dressed the part in all ways for tonight, including her underwear.
Her heart thumped against her corseted ribs, wondering what he’d think.
His searching fingers reached the top of her stockings. Halted.
‘Lift your skirts.’
Another command. She grabbed the fabric, moving it to the top of her thighs. He muttered something in Italian.
‘What did you say?’
‘Sarai la rovina dei miei sogni—you’ll haunt my dreams.’
A rush of blood swelled to her chest, like her heart was going to burst. She shouldn’t enjoy his sentiment so much.
That after tonight he might remember her, even if only in sleep.
Then all thought fled as he removed her other shoe.
Rough hands stroking her legs, the soft skin where the lace of her stockings ended.
He undid the garter stays, gently rolling down one stocking then the other, tossing them behind him. They drifted to the floor.
His head dropped to her upper thighs, kissing.
His hands at her knees, easing her legs further apart.
His lips teasing against her sensitive skin.
In delicious contrast, his stubble prickled at her flesh.
His kisses drifted higher to the centre of her, then away.
A slow, controlled tease that had her panting in increasing desperation for him to finally land where she needed him most.
She ached deep inside. The delicious agony of it, this anticipation. She’d thought he’d want fast, the way he’d pushed her up against the back of the lift. She’d expected tearing at clothes and a kind of ferocity.
This was an exquisite, excruciating undoing, like he was pulling her apart at the seams. He reached up and hooked his fingers into her underwear, slipping it down her legs.
Her panties came away from her, wet from her own arousal.
Then he sat back for a moment, staring at the centre of her, completely exposed.
Heat rose to her cheeks. Her breaths, shallow gusts.
What was he thinking? She wasn’t waxed bare like so many other women seemed to be nowadays.
Was there something unusual about her? Medici simply breathed in deeply, hot hands on her knees.
A sense of shyness overcame her. Lily moved to shut her legs, but he increased the pressure.
Though she was sure that if she really wanted, he’d relent.
‘Allow a man to admire heaven, bella.’
A flood of heat flooded over her. Heaven?
She relaxed her legs even more. He removed his left hand from her knee, took a finger and stroked it through her folds.
The shock of the touch sharp yet electrifying.
She gasped at the pleasure as he explored.
Circling her clitoris. Dipping in and out of her with just the tip of his finger. She dropped her head back and moaned.
‘So wet for me. So responsive. I need to taste you now.’ He looked up at her, his eyes sparkling. His mouth curled with wicked intent. ‘Sit back and enjoy.’
He’d stolen all her words so she could only nod.
Medici kissed her inner thigh again, tracing her flesh with his tongue.
Then higher till the warmth of his breath caressed between her legs.
His tongue followed, finding her centre immediately and circling like a marksman with bullet-point accuracy.
Concentrating on the very heart of her pleasure.
It was like being hit by a bolt of lightning.
The flash of pleasure, the incendiary heat of him.
She dropped her hands back to the mattress.
Gripping the soft accent blanket which had been placed on the bed.
Trying to anchor herself though his sensual assault.
The man was relentless the way he licked into her.
His tongue working magic on her body. She could barely hold herself up, her arms trembling.
The pleasure intense and all consuming. The sensation like being drizzled with warm honey.
A liquid sweetness that centred in her belly and flooded outwards.
Then he eased a hand between her legs, teased at her entrance with a finger, dipping into her body once more.
The way it searched inside. Delving, retreating.
Pushing further. Then another. The whole of her concentration narrowed to a pinpoint between her legs.
The ache of it growing and growing till she shifted trying to ease the increasing agony.
This man didn’t relent. He twisted her tighter.
Deep inside, he did something. Touched a spot that caused her vision to fade in a shower of sparks.
His lips wrapping round her clitoris. The sensation exploded as she cried out in ecstasy.
Torn apart like she was tiny pieces of confetti, tossed up into the air and fluttering to the ground.
Wondering as her arms gave way and she collapsed onto the bed, how she was ever going to recover. Because she hadn’t been put back together by this. She’d been cracked apart even further.
Rocco licked his lips. The intoxicating taste of Lily, sweet and salty on his tongue.
She was magic, how she’d opened to him. Blooming like a parched desert plant at the first drink of rain.
Now she lay back on the bed. Hair in a tangle of curls behind her.
Legs still spread wide, the centre of her slick and gleaming in the low lights of the room.
Skirt ruched up round her waist. She looked ruined and it was with intense satisfaction that he’d been the author of her demise.
The front of Rocco’s trousers pulled painfully tight but he relished every moment of it. The pounding ache in his groin. The anticipation of the night ahead. He stroked Lily’s thighs with his thumbs as she lay there, her chest heaving. Replete because of his efforts.
He stood and leaned over her. Lips brushing Lily’s. She returned his kiss lush, soft and open. Like the rest of her body, welcoming him.
‘You have too many clothes,’ he murmured against her mouth.
‘And so do you. Whose fault is that?’
He smiled. ‘I was more interested in devouring you than what clothes we were both wearing. You seemed satisfied with my efforts.’
She flung her arm over her eyes. ‘Given it feels like all my bones have melted, yes.’
He smiled, something warm and bright igniting in his chest. This banter between them was fun in a way he’d forgotten sex could be. It only inflamed him even more. He wanted to make love to her till neither of them could speak. Till they were nothing other than feeling rather than thinking.
Rocco crawled over her, began undoing the tiny buttons at the bodice of her magnificent dress.
Everything calling for him to go fast, when what they were wearing forced him to be slow.
The corners of her lips arched in a sultry smile as he peeled the front of her dress open to reveal a magnificent corset.
The sight of the stockings and suspenders had made his heart stop in his chest. This?
It plumped up her beautiful breasts. Accentuated her curves.
It was as if he was in some kind of fantasy from another time where they were different people entirely.
Which was just what he’d been looking for.
‘Dio. I think you can’t be more beautiful and you prove me wrong.’
She lifted her arm from her face. Reached up to the cravat at his throat and untied it with trembling fingers. Unbuttoned his waistcoat. Ran her hands over his chest. Scraped down the fabric of his shirt with her nails.