Loving Venus (Sally-Ann Jones Sexy Romance) (16 page)

     Afraid of yielding to it, he quickly looked away, using the excuse of wanting water to avoid her glittering, demanding gaze. He felt for another bottle in the hamper and was relieved to find one. He drank thankfully, avoiding her eyes, then passed it to her and, as she had done, feigned sleep.

     The nocturnal hours dragged past and, finally, both of them did doze a little, lulled by the gentle night noises of the birds in the forest and the soothing swishing of the branches in the breeze. But, in the hour just before dawn, when the air grew cold and they each slept soundly, one reached for the other without realizing it.

     Alessandro surfaced to semi-consciousness enough to marvel at how real his dream seemed. They were in each other’s arms, her hair soft against his lips, her strong arms returning his own embrace. Through the summer cotton of her dress he felt her taut nipples against his chest and he thrilled to the moan of desire she gave when, unable to contain himself any longer, he brought his mouth down on hers.

     Was this really a dream? he wondered, revelling in its sensuality. Before he had time to realize that Annabella really was in his arms, his wine-sweet tongue was flirting with hers, echoing the act that his whole body longed to perform with a hunger that was undeniable.

     He couldn’t stop now, although she was still asleep, perhaps also believing it was a dream. Would it be so bad to make love to her here on this lonely country road? His mind flew back to her first moment at Casa dei Fiori a few short weeks ago and the kiss she’d given him when they met again after all those years. She had wanted him then, certainly. And he wanted her now, he was certain.

     With a sob, he felt for the zipper in the small of her back and tore it down to reveal her beautiful, heavy breasts in the snowy white, innocent bra. Too impatient to unclasp this modest garment, he hurriedly pushed one strap off her shoulder and lifted one breast from its confines before dropping his head and taking the erect nipple into his mouth.

     He sucked and licked hungrily, thrilling at her groans of pleasure. He felt his own body harden even more and knew he wouldn’t be able to wait much longer. Usually, he could temper himself, timing his lovemaking to allow his partner to build up to a crescendo of delight before climaxing with her. But with Annabella, all notions of control were out of the question.

      He lifted the other breast from its cup and began to tease the rosebud pink nipple when he, too, heard a moan escape from deep inside him. Annabella’s hands were under his shirt, her fingers tantalizing the lean, hard torso. He brought his mouth up to hers as she slid her fingers down his back and felt the blood pulse through him as she sucked unashamedly on his tongue.

     He forced his eyes open at the very moment she did and both knew that this was very much a reality. A reality they both wanted more than they’d ever wanted anything before.

     As her hand pushed down, between his layers of clothes and the hot, bare skin of his firm buttocks, Alessandro allowed his to tangle in the red triangle of hair below her navel. Hungry guttural sounds filled the air as he fondled her there, tantalizing her by not touching her where she most wanted him to be.

     Annabella squeezed the flesh of his buttocks, pushing herself up and against him so their pelvises met and she could feel him bucking and throbbing against her belly.

     “We shouldn’t be doing this,” Alessandro rasped, now letting his fingers touch her where she was damp and hot.

     “I know,” she panted. “We must stop.” But, even as she whispered these words, her fingers were on his trouser button, then on his zip.

      With a hoarse groan, his own hand clamped over hers.

     “This is madness!” he breathed, with every intention of forcing her hand away from him.

     But instead, their fingers linked and even they seemed to mimic the lovemaking they both wanted so badly.

     He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her palm, as if giving it unspoken approval for what he knew it hungered to do.

     For a moment, she lifted her face and their eyes met. It was a moment of calm in a frenzied, desperate few minutes. Annabella looked into his blazing eyes and knew that he wanted her. She let her gaze rest on the strong features of his face – a face she
’d loved since she was twelve, a face that had hardly changed, except that, impossibly, it had become even more devastatingly handsome. He
was
her Alessandro, deep, deep down inside himself, no matter how cold and unfeeling he pretended to be. And she’d been in love with him since she had begun her journey to womanhood. Now she’d reached the destination. With certainty, she lifted her lips to his again and they kissed tenderly.

     Alessandro, too, felt as if they
’d reached a kind of truce. She may have taken from him everything he held most dear, but she was, essentially, his beloved Annabella. An exquisite, grown-up version who knew exactly what she wanted.

     The calm was not to last for long. During that long, sweet kiss, her hand slid down to where he throbbed for her and his returned to its maddening, teasing of her body’s most precious secrets.

    “Bella!” he sighed, his breath entering her mouth.

     He pushed her damp panties down and slid her beneath him so that she stretched helplessly on the seat, every pore of her longing for him. With shaking hands and her heart hammering so hard she was sure he could hear it, she helped him tear his boxer shorts and trousers off, her eyes widening at the sight of him. Wanting to take in all of his hard, muscular body, she ripped at the shirt he was still wearing and there he was, bending over her in all his beauty.

    “You’re fabulous!” she cried hoarsely, reaching for him and arching her back so she could take his arousal in her mouth and feel his hardness against her tongue. She sucked and licked at him, his ragged breathing proof that he was not shocked by her behaviour but delighted by it. But spiralling deep, deep down in her was a wild yearning to have him there, filling her yawning, burning emptiness.

     “I want you inside me,” she begged. “Now, Alessandro!”

     With a deep sigh of contentment, he lifted himself from her lips and slid down, teasing her for just a few more seconds with his knee pushing hard against her dampness. Her body convulsed once, twice, as if molten electricity were slamming through her veins and she sobbed with longing for more.

     “Do you want me?” he demanded, although she was beyond speech.

     “Tell me you want me inside you,” he insisted.

     For answer, she took his rigid shaft in her hand and guided him down, lifting her hips to meet his.

     He thrust slowly, tentatively, his almost black eyes never off hers.

     She gasped as pain wracked through her at her body’s initial resistance to his onslaught then a cry of utter joy escaped her as he broke through.

     Ever so gently, he pushed, watching her face intently as she responded to his lovemaking with little sobs of delight and cries of disbelief that her body had such a capacity for pleasure.

     “Harder, Alessandro!” she begged, clutching at him and forcing him down so she could feel the weight of him on her.

     He was transfixed by her. He had no idea, until now, that she’d never done this before. He was her first lover. The knowledge made him desperate not to hurt her.

     “More!” she cried, instinctively knowing he was holding back.

     “Are you sure?” he asked tenderly.

     “Yes!” she rasped.

     The hunger in her voice inflamed him. She loved being loved by him. That was obvious. She was more beautiful than any woman he had ever known and she wanted him. The knowledge made him feel almost superhuman and he swelled inside her, immediately provoking a purr of satisfaction deep in her throat.

     No woman, and he had known many, had ever responded like this. She was completely natural and unselfconscious and he knew he
’d never be loved so well by anyone else.

     With an almost animal growl, he gave in to his instincts. He thrust deeply and slowly, watching with satisfaction as she writhed beneath him, delighting in his power.

    “I can see you’re enjoying this,” he whispered.

     “More than anything!” she laughed, amazed that lovemaking could be so utterly, completely wonderful. That Alessandro was, as she had always suspected, a god.

    “Bella!” he cried, as she smiled adoringly up at him.

    His own body seemed magical to him, a source of unimaginable joy and pleasure for both of them, it was obvious. With rising passion, he was acutely aware of her growing ecstasy and, when she cried aloud as yet another ripple of bliss flooded her whole being, he gave in to his own overpowering need with a triumphant growl. They clung to each other as wave after wave after wave of heart-stopping sensations swamped them, their fingers entwined, limbs in a tangle, bodies bathed in each other’s sweat.

     For what seemed an eternity, each clutched the other until their heart-beats slowed to a normal rate again, until the slowly diminishing wavelets of pleasure began to ebb.

    “That was wonderful!” he rasped, his body exhausted, his mind afire with the memories of all the sensations she had provoked.

     When Annabella did not answer, he looked down at her, where she was cradled in his arms. She was fast asleep, her breathing as relaxed as a child’s, a rapturous smile on her lips.

     What had he done?, he asked himself. He
’d never be free of his obsession for her now. How would he ever stand by and watch Umberto Esposito marry her after the night they’d had? How would he attend the church and allow him to slip his ring over her finger, then walk with her down the aisle and into the sunshine, sunshine that would last forever for the lucky man who was her husband? How would he survive the honeymoon night, when the fair-haired doctor was, perhaps for the first time, tasting the unearthly delights he’d just delighted in?

     He sighed so deeply she stirred against him, calling his name sleepily and nestling her turned-up nose into the dark matt of hair that outlined his pectorals.

     He’d have to go away. Or he would go mad, he was sure of it.

Alessandro didn’t have the heart to wake her. He lay naked against the warm leather of the seat, savouring every second of her deep sleep. Her hair lay like a shawl across his shoulder and over his back, her soft body moulded into his as naturally as a key fits a lock.

     The bright dawn light, flooding into the car, made her stir and she gradually surfaced to consciousness, although she made no attempt to untwine her fingers from his nor to move away from his rock-like chest.

     She half opened her limpid eyes and gazed up at him sleepily, then her eyes widened in disbelief when she realized where she was and with whom, simultaneously taking in the fact that they were both completely naked and that the man against whose body she was reclining was again aroused.

    For a moment he read sheer panic in her eyes, then glad acceptance of their circumstances.

    “I  … I thought I’d been dreaming,” she began. “But, it was real, wasn’t it? It really was like being in heaven.”

     “It must never happen again,” he told her gruffly, willing his betraying body to calm down.

     “I think you want it to,” she said cheekily, sliding her hand down proprietorially.

     “No,” he bit out, forcing her to ungrip her fingers. “I don’t want it. Not rationally. Last night was…” he stammered, desperately seeking the words with which to lie to her when the truth was burnt into his very being.

     “Fabulous,” she supplied, her eyes full of tears.

     “No. It was just a way of passing the time. And now we must get dressed and find our way to the nearest village so we can buy some petrol.”

     “But last night you…” she stammered helplessly. He had already begun to dress, pulling on underwear, trousers, socks, from the jumble of clothes strewn everywhere.

     He handed her her bra, wordlessly.

    As she fastened it, she became angry. He
had
enjoyed last night. She was sure of it. The endearments he’d whispered during the intensity of their passion, the gentle kisses and licks, the lazy, loving way his tongue had caressed the whorls of her ear, the tenderest places of her body. And she’d given herself to him utterly, holding nothing back. How dare he toss all that back in her face!

     “You stay. I’ll walk for the petrol,” she said, flinging open the car door and stepping outside, still only half dressed. “I want to be alone.”

    “But you don’t know where you are,” he protested, not wanting to be parted from her, although he would never admit it.

     “I think you’re the one who’s lost,” she retorted.  

                        CHAPTER TWELVE

“I’m not letting you go alone,” he replied, throwing on his shirt but neglecting to button it.

      She caught her breath at the sight of his flat, muscular torso, the dark chest hair that emphasized his strength. It was impossible for her not to recall in every perfect, minute detail what his body had only just finished doing to hers and the recollection sent a tremor of pleasure through her, causing her to blush under his scrutiny.