Alessandra
The door clicks shut behind my back as Quinn pushes me against it. I had an amazing time with him tonight, which is no surprise because I always enjoy his company, but what he just did to me in the limo-his mouth moving over me like that-proves he’s so much more incredible and way more experienced than I deserve.
My coat falls to the floor in a puddle as Quinn runs his fingers under the straps of my dress, lightly massaging the muscles of my back and neck. His warm hands are a welcome buffer between my skin and the cool door. Quinn Kingsley is ever the gentleman, seeing to my comfort-and to my pleasure-before his own. And there’s no mistaking his bulging manhood, which is pressing into my belly.
I bite down on his lip, trying to tame the girlish smile threatening to give away my infatuation with this creature. He groans, and I swear I could die on the spot and be a happy girl. This man, with his firm, muscled body under my searching hands. This man, with his tongue tangling with mine in a hot, powerful kiss. This man, whose self-control is driving me a little bit mad.
As soon as I can free him from his shirt, that bare, chiseled chest is under my palms. I claim it with my fingernails, dragging them lightly down his chest, feeling the soft hair there. I need to see him. I push him away from me, giving myself just enough space to really get a good look.
Quinn Kingsley stands before me in all his sexy, indescribable glory. His tie is loose around his neck and his shirt is half-open from my impatient tugging. His face is flushed, his eyes dark and clouded with lust.
Impatient with my scrutiny, Quinn tries to step back into my arms but I hold him there-on display. I want to see him, to soak in the sight before me, to run my gaze up and down the angles and contours that have quickly become my new obsession. His stomach is lined with muscles, and his chest is broad and firm with sexy pectorals. He looks every bit a man.
I have never been this wet for anyone in my life.
“What?” He sounds gruff, clearly grieving the loss of contact. “Why do you laugh?”
I didn’t even realize that I was.
“I want-” I try to conjure up words for the wild, twisting desire I have for him, but find I’m unable to. “I want-”
Speechless, I drag my hands down his chest again, as if I can find the words somewhere in the inspiration of his perfectly toned abs. He grins at me then, covering my hands with his and drawing me close.
“You want…” His lips brush along my temple, the warmth of his breath stealing mine away.
I may faint. I’ve got to take control. In one swift tug, I rip off his shirt and tie and toss them on my discarded coat. The surprise on his face makes me feel stronger and more experienced than I am.
“You and me. On your bed. Adesso.” Now.
Quinn is on me in seconds.
Are my feet even on the floor? No, his arms are holding me up, one under my legs, the other securely behind my back. I kick off my shoes with a flourish and wrap my arms around his neck, weaving my fingers through his hair as he carries me across his apartment.
A moment later, I’m lowered gently onto the plushest, silkiest bedspread I’ve ever felt. The reminder of Quinn’s lavish lifestyle doesn’t escape me. How did I end up here? How did this exquisite Adonis of a man-
I must have a perplexed look on my face because he tilts his head in concern. Shut up, Alessandra, and be with this man who wants to be with you.
I give him a smile-full, open, and honest. “Come here,” I say, my arms outstretched for him.
He smiles at me, almost with an uncharacteristically boyish sincerity. His body arches over me on the bed, one hand propping himself up while the other cups my cheek.
“Never. Stop. Smiling,” he commands me, punctuating each word with a soft kiss.
I pull him closer to me with what can only be described as a purr. He’s more than happy to oblige.
The sensation of silky sheets doesn’t compare to the feeling of Quinn’s half-naked body sliding up against mine. I immediately spread my legs so he can stake his claim on the space between them. We fit perfectly together. His lips find mine again, and every firm grind of his pelvis against mine makes me want to be even closer.
“Take it off,” I plead, tugging at his belt.
He groans. “Pazienza.” Patience.
“No more patience,” I whisper in his ear. One of my hands feverishly combs through his hair while the other slides over the front of his pants, grasping his manhood greedily.
He grunts as I slide my hand over him. “Take off your dress.” It’s a command, not a question.
I rise to my knees on the bed, unzipping my dress. When I let it fall away, I’m left in only a scrap of lace. Time comes to a stop as Quinn’s hot gaze rakes over my skin, and he groans.
“Jesus. You’re exquisite.”
I swallow a wave of nerves. No one has ever described me that way. But here, on his bed, in the moonlight, I feel beautiful. Maybe it’s the way he looks at me, but I really do feel like the most exquisite woman in the world.
“Your turn,” I whisper, reaching for his belt. I give it a tug and Quinn seems amused, pleased to just watch me as I undo his button and then tug down his zipper.