Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 51166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
Fiero’s looking down at me, waiting for an answer, his cheeks red from the cold.
The wine has made me bold enough to send him my own version of a sultry smile. “I would like that.” I let him take my hand and lead me into his house.
Every Place Our Bodies Touch
Inside, Fiero’s house is comfortably but minimally furnished with a neutral-colored couch and chairs and nondescript landscape art on the walls. It looks very much like a temporary abode rather than someone’s longtime dwelling. There are enough items scattered around to make it look lived in, but only just. I see no laptops or papers, nothing to suggest that Matteo stays here too.
He lays his coat over the back of a chair and helps me remove mine. “Would you like coffee?”
“I’m fine.” I’m still a little buzzed from the wine, in fact, and hoping it doesn’t wear off too quickly. I know where things are headed with this sexy man, and I could use both the bravery and the soothing effect that the alcohol provides.
I’ve never been with a man who looked like this, or had this effect on my body and mind. I’ve never been with a man who satisfied me, either. If I could pick jerks who were good in bed, I’d at least get some decent sex out of it, but they’ve all been disappointing in that regard, too.
I can’t imagine Fiero will disappoint me. But without the wine, I might get in my own head and worry about disappointing him.
The sculptor doesn’t leave me alone with my thoughts for long. When he comes to me, I put my hands on his chest and tilt my face up expectantly. My heart beats faster as he lowers his head.
His lips are soft, and the moment they touch mine, I melt into his arms. He gathers me close, his powerful arms coming around me. One hand glides up my spine, igniting tiny fires as it goes, and curls around the back of my neck. The other moves down, with equal assurance, to shape the curve of my ass.
He’s not groping me, just resting his hand there, as if that’s where it’s always belonged. He’s smooth, a million times more self-assured – and with good right – than any man who’s ever touched me before.
Then he deepens the kiss and his hand flexes, squeezing slightly.
Electric heat sparks through me. My panties are soaked. I’ve never felt so branded, claimed, owned, and all this from a few seconds of contact?
I’m not sure how I’ll survive everything I want to do with Fiero, but I’m more than ready to find out. And if I die, it will be with a big smile on my face.
I wrap my arms around his neck, my fingers burrowing under his hair to stroke the nape of his neck. Up close, he smells amazing, an enticing mix of orange, spice, and amber, and I’m possessed by the need to taste every inch of him.
My lips open under his, and I moan into his mouth as our tongues tangle. As if I’ve given him a signal, Fiero scoops me up, and my legs wrap around him reflexively. Without breaking the connection of our kiss, he walks us over to the couch and falls back onto it, bringing me down to straddle his lap.
My chest is pressed against his and my nipples are so hard that I’m surprised they haven’t poked holes straight through my blouse. When Fiero shifts my hips, I find that a part of him is very hard as well.
I gasp against his mouth as he presses my hand onto the bulge in his jeans. My arousal dials up fifty more notches as I explore his clothed erection, but I have to break our kiss when I become confused. There’s so much of him – so wide and so long – that I can’t make sense of what I’m feeling. My eyes take in the shadowy hardness under the denim and my breath catches in my chest.
Fiero is huge.
My eyes feel as big as saucers when I look up at him.
There’s no smugness or pride on his beautiful face, only a lust-filled look as he pulls my head back to his, as though his lips have missed mine in the seconds since we last kissed. “Don’t worry, bella,” he murmurs.
When he reunites our mouths, the whole world vanishes. There’s nothing else except for him and me and every place our bodies touch. I’m lost in his strength, his scent, the roughness of his stubble against my skin, the heat he radiates. Nothing matters but the two of us and what we can make each other feel.
The faint sound of a door closing barely registers on my lust-hazed senses. I ignore it, because it has nothing to do with me, or Fiero, and the little heaven we’re creating between us. We don’t stop what we’re doing until a voice says, “Dani?”