Ringing in Love (17 page)

Holding her close with one arm, with his other hand he trailed his fingers down her throat to the first button on her silk shirt and popped it open. Then the second button. And the third. His fingers grazed the top of her breasts.

“Your skin is so soft. It's as silky as your shirt,” he whispered into her ear before taking her ear lobe between his teeth and sucking gently.

“That feels good.” Her arms tightened around him, and she pressed her body against his.

He finished unbuttoning her shirt and slipped it over her shoulders so it fell to the floor. “What else feels good? Does this?” He ducked his head and transferred his attention to a nipple, suckling it through a lacy, ice blue demi-bra. But it was still too much barrier for him and, from her response, for her. With a flick of his fingers, the bra was unhooked and on the floor with her shirt.

Saying, “I want to feel your skin against mine,” she began to unbutton his shirt. She fumbled with the buttons but was taking too long for him, so he helped her finish the job and added his shirt to the growing pile of their clothes on the floor.

And then they were kissing again, her breasts tight against his bare chest, her fingers at the back of his neck, urging him with her mouth and her tongue to go on.

He whispered, “I need you naked. Now. First, this …” He unbuttoned and unzipped her pants. They slithered down her hips and fell onto the floor. When she stepped out of them, he said, “Give me your foot,
cara.
”

She raised one foot and he slipped off her stiletto.

“And the other.”

Holding onto his arms to keep her balance, she obliged. When both shoes were off, she stood in front of him, her eyes downcast, suddenly seeming to be aware of how naked she was, clad in only a pair of light blue bikini panties. He took her hands when she tried to cover her breasts with her arms, saying, “You're even more beautiful than I imagined you'd be.” He drank in the sight of her breasts with dusky pink nipples now peaked with desire, the flush of arousal on her olive skin. He wanted to be inside her, to hear her cry out his name as he made her his.

But he wasn't going to rush her. She may have been aroused by their kisses, but now, standing exposed in front of him, he could see from the nervous way she was glancing around the room and the rigid way she held her shoulders that she was more tense than aroused. So he slowed down, kissing her softly, nibbling at her mouth, skating his hands over the soft, soft skin on her back and hips, pulling her closer to him.

Breaking from the kiss, he guided her the two steps to his bed and lowered her onto it. He released her long enough to toe off his shoes, unbuckle his belt, unzip his pants, and in one motion, remove both pants and boxers. She averted her eyes as if to avoid looking at his body. When he joined her in bed, he could feel the tension in her arms and fisted hands. “Turn over,
cara
.”

“Turn …? Why?”

He wasn't sure if she was curious or frightened. “I promised myself I'd touch every inch of your soft skin tonight. I want to start with your shoulders and back.”

He didn't add that he wanted to massage away her anxiety so they could both enjoy what they were doing.

“Oh, I thought …” She didn't finish the sentence but obliged him and turned onto her stomach.

He began slowly, rubbing, massaging, then kissing her shoulders, moving down her spine to her hips and over her bottom. He could hear her breathing begin to hitch as he kneaded her tense muscles first into relaxation then arousal. He followed the massage with kisses along the backs of her legs to her knees. Then he went back to rubbing again, this time, the soles of her feet. Now fully aroused, she began to moan and move restlessly.

“Dominic, please, I want to see you; I want to kiss you.”

“So you shall,” he said as he helped her turn onto her back. He played with the lace at the edge of her panties, teasing, taunting until she raised her hips and pushed them down. He finished the job and pulled them off. Reaching for him, she brought his mouth to hers for an incendiary kiss. His legs tangled with hers, their bodies were as close as he could get them from shoulders to feet.

She was impatient in his arms, caressing his shoulders and back, her body pushing against his, one leg over his hip giving his now almost painful erection a cradle between her legs.

“Oh, God, Dominic. You feel so good.”

“We haven't gotten anywhere near good yet,
cara.
”

“Soon, please. Can we get there soon?”

“I'll do anything you ask me except that. There's no ‘soon.' I intend to take my time, find out everything you like, enjoy how your body feels.” He matched his words with his actions, surfing his hand over her from her breast to her hips and thighs. He didn't think he'd ever felt anything so soft, so smooth.

A moan was the only answer she gave, which he took as permission. He began another round of kissing, tasting his way from her mouth to her neck, to the pulse in her throat and then to her breasts where he lingered. With one hand, he lightly pinched a nipple into a peak while he did the same to the other nipple with his mouth.

As he moved from her breasts to her belly, circling her navel with his tongue, taking little love bites along the way, he felt her grind her hips against him. He thought she was close to orgasm, and he knew exactly how to take her over the top.

His kisses finally arrived at her sex, but as he settled himself between her legs, ready to finish what he'd started, she clenched her thighs together. When he looked at her, she was frowning slightly.

“Don't you like being kissed here?” he asked.

“I don't know. I've never …” She let the sentence die off, averting her eyes again. He had deduced from their earlier conversation she wasn't the most experienced woman he'd been with, but he was surprised at her awkward admission. He could feel the tension return to her body, when seconds before she'd been on the verge of coming apart in his arms.

“I'll stop then.”

“No,” she said after a moment's hesitation. “No, don't stop.”

“Only if you promise you'll tell me if you don't like it.” When she nodded, he began again, kissing from her breasts to her belly and then to her sex. This time, she didn't close her thighs, although he could still feel a slight tension in them. Gently, he pushed them further apart and touched her. She was so wet, so ready for him. The scent of her arousal was so sweet.

He looked up at her again and she nodded. He covered her with the flat of his tongue, tasting, licking, watching her for her reaction. When she canted her hips up, her eyes closed, her face softened with passion, he used his fingers to separate her labia and uncover her clitoris. With the tip of his tongue, he circled the already swollen bud, slowly at first then urgently. She was whimpering now, breathing his name over and over, clutching the sheets with both hands, moving against his mouth, reaching for release.

And when he inserted a finger into her now wet and ready channel, when he massaged inside her, she found it. With a cry, she climaxed.

• • •

Oh, my God. What had just happened? Sex had never been like this. It had always been arousing, and she'd usually had an orgasm, but this? His mouth, his hands, his body were beyond any experience she'd ever had. It was all so overpowering, so … there weren't any words she could come up with to describe it.

And he wasn't finished yet. There was the erection pressed against her hip still to be satisfied. But instead of pushing at her to take care of it, Dominic held her, stroking her back as she came down from the most amazing climax of her life. She felt dizzy, adrift in a place she'd never imagined existed, but safe and secure in his arms.

“Do you know how beautiful you are right now,
cara
?”

She didn't answer, couldn't answer.

With some concern in his voice he asked, “Catherine? Are you okay?”

“Not okay. It's the wrong word. There must be a better one. But I don't even know what it is.”

He smiled against her face as he kissed her jawline on the way to her ear where he whispered, “Is it a good word, at least?”

“It would be the most amazing word I could think of, if I could think. You're the most amazing man. The most amazing lover.” She sighed. “Tell me to stop before I say amazing again.”

“I like the word.” He pulled back and took her chin in his hand. “We're amazing together.”

“I hardly think I had anything to do with it.”

He took her hand and drew it down to his penis. “This is what you had to do with it. This is what you do to me. There's a connection between us, a chemistry, that's astonishing.”

“Chemistry. Yes, we have chemistry. But it's because you're so …”

“No, it's because
we're
so … whatever it was you were about to say.” He began to move her hand up and down on his member, and she felt the swirl of desire begin to build in her again.

“I don't think I've ever wanted anyone as much as I want you,” she whispered.

“I don't have to
think
about it—I know I never have.” He began again to caress her breasts and use his leg to part hers. Then he was crouched between her legs, holding her by the hips, pressing his erection against her sex, making her moan again with the need to feel him inside her. She was ready, wet and aching for him.

He pulled away. She made a small noise to protest, but when he grabbed a condom from the bedside table, she quieted.

“Here,
cara,
help me put this on.” He handed it to her.

She fumbled with the packet, almost dropped the rubber when she got it out of the wrapper, but eventually, between the two of them, they sheathed him. Then slowly, very slowly, he entered her. But she didn't want slow. She wanted all of him. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him into her completely. It was the most wonderful feeling in the world. He filled her; all the empty spaces in her body were now full of only Dominic.

Slowly at first, then with increasing speed, he moved in and out, in and out, repositioning himself so he was rubbing his pubic bone against her clitoris, bringing her once again to the brink of climax and then, in one last thrust, bringing both of them over the top.

They lay together, arms and legs in a tangle with the sheets. The spicy smell she associated with him was now mixed with the mingled scent of sex and her perfume. Whatever she had thought being with Dominic would be like was a gross understatement of how good it had been. But she had no idea what to say to him or how to go on with their evening.

However, her stomach did. It grumbled and rumbled. Loudly. Dominic laughed. “So, you're hungry,” he said, as he kissed her sweaty forehead.

“Apparently.” She nestled into his chest. “But I don't want to leave here. It's so comfortable.”

He drew back and smiled. “Ah, one more thing I won't do for you this evening. I won't serve you pasta Bolognese in my bed.”

She pouted at him. “Why? I'm very neat. Remember? I didn't get one bit of the cioppino on my dress.”

“That may be, but I'm not taking the chance.” He tweaked her nose. “The sauce should be ready by now. Let's go cook pasta and make a salad.”

“I guess this means I have to get dressed.” She sat up on the edge of the bed and bent over to pick up her bikini panties.

“You can wear my shirt, if you'd like. I know I'd like. There's something very appealing about the idea of you wearing my shirt and that lacy bit of underwear while we sit in my perfectly ordinary dining room eating dinner.”

“I'm not sure there's anything ordinary about you, Dominic, even your dining room.” With one finger she lifted the shirt from the pile of clothes on the floor and swung it back and forth. “If I wear this, what will you wear?”

“I have other shirts,
cara
.”

“Of course you do. How silly of me. I don't think you've worn the same suit twice in all the time I've been in the building. You must have an enormous closet to accommodate all the suits and shirts and ties and everything else. Exactly how large is it?”

“My closet? Why are you asking?”

“I want to see if I was right. I picture it being the size of one of the smaller states. Maybe sometime you'd let me look inside so I could count your suits.” She was now in his shirt and her own underwear, wearing no shoes.

“You have interesting ideas of something fun to do. I'll try to remember it if I can't think of anything else to do with you in my bedroom. However, I doubt you'll have the chance to count suits any time soon.” He'd pulled on his pants and grabbed a Polo shirt from a drawer. Taking her hand, he led her toward the kitchen. “If you can drag yourself away from contemplating my wardrobe, I think dinner's about ready.”

Although Dominic didn't usually want anyone around when he cooked, having Catherine in the kitchen with him seemed exactly right. As he finished up the sauce and put water on to boil for the pasta, she tore lettuce for the salad and diced fresh tomatoes he'd brought home from the rooftop garden. Together they added green onions, mushrooms, cucumbers, and black olives to the lettuce in a wooden salad bowl. Dominic mixed olive oil and balsamic vinegar and tossed the salad. Catherine sliced bread.

Working easily around each other, it was impossible for him not to touch her every chance he had—a caress on the back of her hand as he took a knife from her, a casual hip bump as they changed places around the cooking island, an accidental shoulder rub standing side-by-side tossing salad. She looked amused. He didn't care that she seemed to know exactly what he was doing.

When the pasta was cooked and the salad ready, they took it all to the table.

Dominic loved watching Catherine eat. She didn't pretend she didn't like food; she savored every bite. But then, she was raised in a good Italian family. And if the Alessandros were anything like the Russos, enjoying meals together was an integral part of being a family.