Читать книгу Italian Maverick's Collection - Кейт Хьюит - Страница 31

CHAPTER TWELVE

THE LIFT DOORS had barely closed before Marco pulled Sierra to him, her breasts colliding with his chest as his mouth came down hard on hers. He couldn’t have waited another moment, not even one second, to touch her, and the feel of her lips on his wasn’t the water in the desert he’d thought it would be; it was a match to the flame, igniting his need all the more.

He backed her up against the wall of the lift, his mouth plundering hers as his hands fisted in her hair. Diamond-tipped pins scattered across the floor of the lift with a tinkling sound. Marco couldn’t get enough of her. He moved his hands from her hair to her hips, yanking up a satiny fistful of her dress, needing to touch her skin.

He found the curve of her neck with his mouth and sucked gently, his desire knifing inside him as Sierra groaned aloud.

‘You’ll ruin the dress...’ she gasped.

‘I’ll buy you another. I’ll buy you a dozen, a hundred others.’

The doors pinged open and Marco stumbled backwards into the penthouse, pulling Sierra with him. She came with him, laughing and breathless, clutching his shirt as she tried to pull it away from his cummerbund.

‘I need to see you,’ Marco said. He tugged at the zip at the back of her dress. ‘Now.’ He tugged harder at the zip and the dress slithered off her, leaving her in nothing but a scrap of lace pants. Marco inhaled sharply at the sight of her pale golden perfection, the lights from the city gleaming on her smooth skin.

She stepped out of the dress, chin lifted, smile shy, wearing nothing but lace and stiletto heels. Marco had never seen a more magnificent sight.

‘This feels a bit unequal,’ she said with a little uncertain laugh. ‘I’m in my birthday suit and you’re completely dressed.’

He spread his arms wide. ‘Then maybe you should do something about it.’

‘Maybe I should.’ She stepped closer to him so he could breathe in the lemon scent of her hair; it had come undone from the pins he’d pulled out in the lift and lay in twists and curls about her shoulders. She pursed her lips slightly as she fumbled with the studs on his shirt; her breasts grazed his chest every time she moved.

Finally she’d managed to release the studs; she tossed them aside with a breathless laugh and then tugged his shirt out from his cummerbund and parted it, smoothing her hands along his chest. Marco closed his eyes, his breath hissing between his teeth. It amazed him how profoundly her touch affected him. He’d been with plenty of women over the years, gorgeous women with experience and expertise and plenty of confidence, but Sierra’s hesitant touch reduced all those women to a pale memory.

‘You’re very beautiful,’ she whispered, and tugged his shirt off his body before undoing the laces of his cummerbund. He wore only his trousers now, and he saw the hesitation in Sierra’s face and wondered what she’d do about it. Sometimes she seemed so innocent and inexperienced he wondered how many lovers she’d actually had. But it wasn’t a train of thought he enjoyed dwelling on, and so he made himself stop thinking about it. It didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that she was with him now.

‘Well?’ He arched an eyebrow, his mouth curving in a salacious smile. ‘I’m not naked yet.’

‘I know.’ She laughed again, a soft, breathy sound, and then tugged his trousers down. Marco kicked them off his feet, and followed with his shoes and socks. Now all he wore was a pair of navy silk boxers and his arousal was all too evident.

Sierra’s gaze darted up to him and she licked her lips. Marco groaned. Then she reached out a hand and touched his shaft through his boxers, her fingers questing uncertainly and then wrapping more firmly around him.

Marco clenched his jaw against the almost painful wave of pleasure that crashed over him. ‘Sierra...’

‘Is this okay?’ She jerked her hand back as if she’d hurt him and he laughed, albeit shakily.

‘More than okay. What you do to me... But I need to do some things to you.’ He reached for her then, because he needed her next to him. The feel of their naked bodies colliding made them both gasp aloud, her breasts against his chest, their legs tangled.

Marco kissed her deeply and she responded with all of her clumsy ardour, tangling her hands in his hair as he fitted her body more closely to his. Marco backed her towards the wall, pressing her against the sheet of glass as Sierra let out a soft laugh.

‘Half the world now has a glimpse of my backside.’

‘No one can see you from up here,’ he promised her, ‘but, if they could, it would be the most splendid view. Not,’ he added in a growl as his mouth moved down her body, ‘that I want anyone to see you but me.’ Ever, he silently added, and then pushed the thought away as he turned his attention to her breasts. Her skin was pale and gleaming in the moonlight; she looked like a statue of Athena or Artemis, naked and proud.

Sierra’s head came back against the glass, her hair tumbling about her shoulders, and her legs buckled as Marco lavished his attention on each breast in turn and then moved lower.

She gasped, a ragged pant, as he parted her thighs. ‘Marco...’

‘I want to taste you.’ Was she thinking of before, in the villa, when he’d touched her like this? Then it had been confused, born of both need and anger, a twisted revenge he hadn’t wanted to articulate even to himself. Now he felt nothing but this deep physical and emotional connection he needed to act on. To show her how important she was to him. ‘I want to feel you come apart beneath me,’ he muttered against her. ‘I want you to give me everything, Sierra.’ For ever.

* * *

Sierra sagged against the window, Marco supporting her with one arm, as he plundered her centre. She didn’t know how she could have, but she’d forgotten how intense and exquisite and intimate this was. Marco’s hands were cupping her bottom as pleasure spiralled inside her, up and up, tighter and tighter until she felt as if she were apart from her body even as she dwelt so intensely in it. When she came, she cried out, Marco holding her to him as she slid into boneless pleasure.

A few moments passed while he cradled her and her breathing slowed and then he scooped her up in his arms and took her up the spiral staircase to his bed.

He deposited her on the navy silk sheets tenderly, like a treasure, and Sierra lay there, gazing up at him with pleasure-dazed eyes as he stripped the boxers from his body and then stretched out next to her.

Completely naked, he was magnificent, every muscle perfectly sculpted, the hard ridge of his abdomen begging for her touch. She slid her hand down his toned stomach, a thrill of wonder and pleasure shooting through her at Marco’s ragged gasp. It amazed her that she affected him so much. That she had that much power. It was a heady feeling but a serious one, too, because she knew all about the abuse of power.

‘You’re amazing,’ she whispered, and wrapped her fingers around his shaft. His skin was smooth and hot, and it thrilled her.

‘You’re amazing,’ he muttered and pulled her to him, sliding a hand between her thighs, where she was still damp from his touch. ‘I want you now, Sierra. I want to be inside you.’

‘I want you inside me.’

He rolled on top of her, poised at her entrance as a frown furrowed his forehead. ‘Birth control...’

She blushed even as she opened herself to him. ‘I don’t... That is, I’m not on anything.’

In one swift movement Marco rolled off her. Sierra felt the loss of him keenly. ‘Marco...’

‘I’m sorry. I should have thought of it sooner. I was so wrapped up in you...’

Disappointment made her feel as if she’d swallowed a stone. ‘But don’t you have anything?’

He arched an eyebrow, a wry smile twisting his lips. ‘I wasn’t expecting to need anything on this trip.’

‘You didn’t think you’d get lucky?’ she teased and his expression turned serious.

‘I didn’t dare hope, Sierra.’

‘Even so...’

‘I’m not quite,’ he said, ‘the super stud you seem to think I am. But thanks, anyway.’

She laughed softly. ‘But you must have had plenty of women...’ Even if she felt like scratching their eyes out just then.

Marco’s expression closed and he shook his head. ‘Let’s not talk about that. The past is in the past, for both of us.’

She nodded and Marco left the room. He came back seconds later, condom in hand. ‘Fortunately, the penthouse is admirably stocked. Now, where were we?’

She arched her body against the sheets, eyebrows raised as a provocative smile curved her mouth. ‘Right about here?’

His gaze darkened with desire as he watched her move. ‘Yes, I think so. But I’d better check.’

He rolled on the condom and Sierra watched, transfixed by the sight, by the sheer beauty of him. Now would probably be a good time to tell him that she hadn’t actually done any of this before. The feel of him in her hand had caused her a twinge of alarm, wondering how he was going to fit inside her. Wondering how the mechanics of this actually worked.

But she didn’t want to break the moment, and she knew any explanation she gave would be clumsy and awkward. Marco had said the past was in the past. Better to leave it there.

He lay down next to her again, stirring up the embers of need into roaring flame with just a few touches, his mouth on hers, his hand between her thighs. She arched against him, a sound like a kitten’s mewl emerging from her lips.

He laughed softly and then rolled on top of her, braced on his forearms as he nudged at her entrance. ‘Are you ready...?’

‘Yes,’ she panted. ‘Yes.’

He moved inside her and Sierra stiffened instinctively at the entirely unexpected feeling. Her gaze widened and her mouth parted on a soundless gasp. She felt so...full. Invaded, yet in an exciting way. He moved again and she let out a little gasp as the first twinge of discomfort assaulted her.

Marco froze, his face twisted in a grimace of shock and restraint. ‘Sierra...’

‘I’m all right,’ she assured him. ‘Just...give me a moment.’

He stared at her in disbelief as she adjusted to the feel of him, her body expanding naturally to accommodate his. The twinges of discomfort receded and she arched upwards to take him more fully into herself. ‘You can move,’ she whispered. ‘Slowly.’

He slid deeper inside and she gasped again, the sensation acute and overwhelming. He froze, and she let out a shaky laugh. ‘This isn’t quite...’

He touched his forehead to hers, his biceps bulging with the effort of holding himself back. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘I don’t know,’ she confessed. ‘I didn’t want to ruin anything. It seemed so...’ She laughed again, softly. ‘I don’t know.’ Maybe part of her had liked the idea of Marco thinking she was experienced, worldly. Maybe part of her had wanted to match him for sophistication and expertise, even though she knew she never could. In some unvoiced corner of her heart she’d wanted to make their positions more equal.

‘Are you okay?’ he whispered, and she nodded. It hurt more than she’d expected, but within the hurt were flickers of pleasure, and her body arced towards those, seeking them out of instinct. Marco moved again, sliding deeper inside and then out again and Sierra tried to relax. He was so big, and he filled her so completely. It was overwhelming, both emotionally and physically, to be completely conquered by another person. She felt him in every nerve, every cell of her body. There was no part of her that he did not possess, and it was a complex and frightening feeling.

‘Okay?’ he asked again and she laughed, a hiss of sound, as she clutched his shoulders.

‘Stop asking me that.’

‘I don’t want to hurt you.’

‘You’re not.’ Except he was, and in a way she hadn’t expected. The physical pain was nothing compared to the emotional onslaught, the sense that Marco Ferranti was battering every defence she had, leaving her completely bare. Exposed and vulnerable and wanting.

And even as these feelings crashed over her, pleasure came, too. Tiny at first, little whispers that promised something greater, and her body responded instinctively, arching up towards his as she wrapped her legs around his waist and drew him completely into herself. She could feel him everywhere, and it made tears start in her eyes.

Marco was moving faster now and Sierra found his rhythm and matched it, awkwardly at first and then with more grace as the sensations whirling inside her coalesced and drove her body onwards. The pain had receded and pleasure took its place, so she clutched him and threw her head back, letting out a ragged cry as she climaxed, the feeling more intense than anything she had ever experienced. Marco shuddered on top of her, his body sagging against hers even as he bore his weight on his arms.

He kissed her temple, his lips lingering against her skin. ‘That was incredible.’

‘Was it?’ she asked, her voice trembling a little with everything she felt.

‘You have to ask?’ He smiled tenderly and smoothed the hair away from her flushed face.

‘Well, I don’t have much experience of this kind of thing. As you know.’ She let out a shaky laugh and averted her face. She was, quite suddenly and inexplicably, near tears and she didn’t want Marco to see.

‘Sierra...’ He trailed his fingers down her cheek, the gesture so tender it brought a lump to her throat. In a few seconds she’d be bawling. ‘You should have told me.’

‘It didn’t feel like the right moment.’

‘I’m not sure when a better moment would have been,’ he said wryly, and then pulled out of her, rolling away to dispose of the condom. Sierra took the reprieve from his scrutiny to tidy her hair and wipe quickly at her eyes, wrapping the duvet around herself.

Marco glanced back at her, eyes narrowed. Was she so obvious? Could he see the torment and confusion in her eyes, her face? ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ he asked, and she nodded. ‘You don’t...you don’t regret this?’

‘No,’ she whispered, because that much was true. Mostly.

He stretched out next to her, unabashedly naked, and tucked a few stray tendrils of hair behind her ear as he studied her face. ‘Then why do you look like you’re about to cry?’

‘Because it’s so much.’ The words burst from her and a few rogue tears trickled down her cheeks. She batted at them impatiently. ‘I wasn’t expecting to feel so much. And I don’t mean physically,’ she clarified quickly. ‘I’m not talking about the pleasure.’

‘I hope you felt that, too.’

‘You know I did,’ she said, and she sounded almost cross.

Marco frowned, shaking his head. ‘Then what?’

Did he not get it? But then maybe Marco hadn’t felt the emotional tidal wave that had pulled her under. Maybe she was the only one who felt so exposed, so vulnerable and needy. She felt as if Marco had stripped away everything she’d had to protect herself and left her reeling, wondering how to recover. Wondering how she would ever live without him even as terror clutched her at the thought of living with him. At being this vulnerable again, ever.

‘I need to use the bathroom,’ she muttered and wriggled away from him, the duvet snagging about her body.

Marco reached for her arm. ‘Sierra—’

‘Please, Marco.’ She finally freed herself from the bedcovers and hurried towards the en suite bathroom. ‘Please just let me be.’

* * *

Marco watched Sierra barricade herself in the bathroom, a frown deepening on his face. What the hell had happened? He’d had the most incredible sexual experience of his life, and he’d reduced his lover almost to tears. It didn’t make sense. He knew, despite the initial pain, she’d enjoyed herself. He’d felt her climax reverberate through his own body. And he knew she’d been touched emotionally, too, but then so had he. Sex had never felt so important as it did right then.

But Sierra seemed to think that was a bad thing. She’d been tearful, cross, even angry—and why? Because she didn’t want to feel those things? She didn’t want to have that kind of connection with him?

The answer seemed all too obvious. Swearing under his breath, Marco rose from the bed and reached for his boxers. The intimacy they’d wrapped themselves in moments before was already unspooling, loose threads they might never knit back together, which was just as well. This was a fling, nothing more. No matter what he’d felt moments before.

And yet it still stung that Sierra was withdrawing from him. The possibility that she might regret what had happened filled him with a bitter fury he remembered too well. This time he’d be the one to walk away first. He’d make sure of it.