“Did you pick all the furnishings?” I ask him.
He smiles softly as if imagining what I must see through my eyes. “Yes.”
What are you doing here, Olivia? This is out of your league.
His eyes come to mine. “Do you want to see my bedroom?”
Butterflies flutter deep in my stomach. “I don’t know, do I?”
He steps forward and takes my face in his hands. “Your body told me earlier that you do.”
“You shouldn’t listen to her. She’s…” I stop talking, distracted by his big lips that are suddenly on mine.
“She’s… what?” he breathes.
“She’s good to go and trying to get me into trouble.”
He chuckles, and it’s deep and raspy. “I like that about her.
“She doesn’t know what’s good for her.”
His eyes dance with mischief. “I have no doubt about that.” He kisses me again. “Although, I’m sure she knows what does feel good.” He gently bites my bottom lip and stretches it out. My sex contracts at the feel of his teeth on my skin.
He pulls back and looks at me. His eyes are dark, and he licks his lips in anticipation. “My bedroom is this way, Olivia.”
He takes my hand and leads me up an expansive hall. I’m sure I’m supposed to be taking in my surroundings right now, but I can’t concentrate on anything other than the beautiful man holding my hand.
The Devil himself, leading me to his den.
My heart is beating so fast that I have to concentrate on my breathing. I don’t want it to sound like I’m running a marathon, although it totally feels like I am.
His bedroom is big, modern, and minimalistic. The walls are a dark gray, almost navy blue. The linen on the huge bed is white, and white chunky sofas surround another bluestone fireplace. The artwork on the walls is all monochrome photography. It really is something else.
“Wow. You have impeccable taste.”
He steps forward, bringing us closer. “I do.” He kisses me with such passion that I can’t keep my eyes open.
Damn this man and his magic tongue.
Our kiss turns frantic, and my hands go to his hair, while his hands go to my behind. Suddenly, he lets me have it both barrels. We slam up against the wall as we lose control. He turns me away from him and unzips my dress. It falls to the floor and I stand before him in a black strapless bra and lace panties.
His eyes drop as he drinks me in. When they rise to meet mine again, they’re blazing with fire.
He wants me. Every inch of him wants me.
I can feel it.
He undoes my bra and tosses it to the side. My large breasts fall free. He slides my panties down my legs. His chin rises, and he hisses in appreciation. His dark eyes burn holes in my skin.
“Hmm, there she is.” His voice is deep and guttural-a hushed whisper.
My sex begins to throb. “Take it off.”
He holds his hands out. “If you want me, you come and get it.”
Suddenly I’m frantic. I tear his T-shirt off over his head and I throw it. I’m met with the sight of his broad chest, scattered with dark hair, and his muscular shoulders, too. His skin is a beautiful honey shade of tan.
Oh, God, yes. Spurred on by the sight of him, I unfasten the zipper on his jeans and push then down-his boxers, too.
His stomach is washboard hard, his legs muscular and strong, and his black pubic hair is short and well-kept. His large cock hangs heavily between his legs.
Thick veins run down the engorged length of it. Rico is rock hard and ready to go. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.
Good grief, this man is one hell of a specimen.
He stands still, his hands by his side as my eyes roam over his skin.
My chest rises and falls as I struggle for air. I place my hand on his chest, and then retract it quickly and close my fist as if he burned me.
Maybe he did.
This man is white hot. The kind you read about in romance books… the kind that breaks your heart.
“Rici.” My eyes drop lower. “You’ve become even more beautiful,” I whisper to myself. “How is this even possible?”
His eyes hold mine and if I’m not mistaken, he seems nervous. Is he waiting for my approval?
“Baby,” I whisper as I step forward. I rise up on my toes and softly kiss him. His hand curls around my waist. “Show me,” I breathe against his lips. “Show me what I’ve been missing.”
His eyes close and he moans against my lips as our kiss reaches a new level.
As if that’s the green light he’s been waiting for, his hands grab my behind with force, and he grinds his cock against my pubic bone and walks me back to the bed. His dark eyes hold mine as he lies me down and arranges me exactly how he wants me.
On my back with my legs wide open.
His hand moves to his cock, and he strokes it slowly as he looks down at me.
Pre-ejaculate drips from the end of his cock, and my back arches as I begin to lose control.
This is ridiculous. He’s hardly touched me, and I swear, I could orgasm at any moment by just watching him pull himself. His grip on his cock tightens, and he gives himself three hard jerks, and then drops his head and kisses my inner thigh with an open mouth. I buckle beneath him.
The sensation is too much.
He holds my legs open and kisses his way up to my sex.
I stare at the ceiling as I gasp for breath, my rib cage rising as my lungs search for air. Oh God.
He spreads me apart with his fingers and hisses in approval. Then his thick tongue swipes through my flesh with force.
Holy fucking fuck…
He begins to suck, his eyes closed, and I begin to shudder. Oh no.
Not this again.
He reaches up and kneads my breast. “Watch,” he commands.
I lean up onto my elbows and watch him suck and lick on my most private parts.
His eyes are dark, his tongue a perfect pink, and I watch the muscles in his jaw contract as he eats me.
I’ve died and gone to Italian Heaven.
I know now why the men I’ve been with over the last two years couldn’t get over the line with me. They were all shit-very poor substitutes for the real thing.
Nobody came close to giving me the high of Rici Ferrara. He’s a designer drug all of his own.
The best kind of high.
He bites my clitoris, and I buck off the bed as a freight train of an orgasm tears through me. I cry out in ecstasy and grab the back of his head.
Both his hands are splayed on my stomach as he holds me down, but his tongue doesn’t stop. He hasn’t finished. He wants to suck every last drop of the orgasm from my body.
My legs are quivering, and I try to close them. I’m too sensitive. “Rici,” I breathe. “Now. Give it to me… please.”
He stands, takes a condom from the drawer, and I watch as he rolls it on.
Thump, thump, thump, goes my heart as he climbs over me.
“Olivia. My beautiful Olivia.” His lips take mine and his tongue moves in a slow, erotic dance. I can taste my own arousal in his mouth.
My heart freefalls from my chest.
No. No. No.
This is wrong. This isn’t supposed to feel special. This is supposed to be brutal fucking. A getting him out of my system kind of fuck.
With his lips pressed tenderly against mine, he lifts my left leg and puts it around his waist.
“Open for me, baby.”
I do as I’m told, and in one strong movement, he pushes forward and slides in deep. My mouth falls open as his possession takes over. I exhale slowly.
“You all right?” his deep, hushed voice whispers.
“Yeah.” I close my eyes to try and deal with him-to block him out-because, hell, this man doesn’t just make love. He fucks my soul.
He pulls out slowly and then pushes back in. I wince at the size of him. What the hell kind of man is he?
He clenches his jaw. Dark eyes hold mine, and I know he’s clinging onto his control.
His breath is quivering and his tongue is sliding between my lips, begging for me to let him in fully.
What a beautiful, virile beast he is.
Sexual perfection has a name, and it’s Enrico Ferrara. The king of fucking.
With his knees wide on the bed, he pulls out again. This time with purpose, he slams back in, and I cry out.
“Ahh!”