“More, please. Everything you have, V,” she demanded, her core contracting and releasing him, her thighs slapping against his hips with every damp slide of his body against her.
Every tiny pulse of her body hit him as he pulled out and then thrust back in again. Every muscle in his body curled against the next, bracing for the surfeit of pleasure.
But he knew Alessandra’s surrender did not come without a price.
Even if she didn’t ask it, even if she didn’t demand her due, Vincenzo knew there would soon be a day when he would not be able to pay it.
* * *
How had Alex forgotten how transformative sex was between Vincenzo and her? The magic that seemed to be created when they came together? The rightness of it?
It was what had driven her to marry a man who’d been a complete stranger.
Alex whimpered at the emptiness as he pulled out completely but was rewarded not a moment later, when he climbed up onto the bed, on all fours, a primal need etched onto his stunning features. A drop of sweat dripped from his forehead and plopped onto the swell of her breast and his hungry eyes followed it. As if she were prey, and he meant to consume her.
And then he was back on her again, over her, inside her, around her. His weight on top of hers both a safe haven and a vortex of thrill at the same time.
He yanked her closer and thrust inside her, a deep growl rumbling out of him. Alex cried out at the welcoming hardness, at the incredible friction. She was lifted off the bed, hands on her buttocks pulling her up until she was astride his lap. The bare economy with which he arranged her to his liking, the strength in his lean corded limbs only amplified the thrall he had her under.
Alex wrapped her arms around his damp back, feeling him everywhere inside her in this position. The rub of her breasts against his chest, the intimacy of locking gazes with him deepened her pleasure to an unbearable level.
He was so hard and pulsing inside her, his breath warming every inch of her neck, his scent—a sweaty, masculine combination that filled her very senses. Their mouths locked again in a devastatingly hungry communion that she knew now would never be enough. She held on to him as if she could hold his heart to hers this way. She wanted to stay like that forever, in his arms, surrounded by him, and let time stretch from this moment to the next and the next.
Alex buried her face in his shoulder. Damp, soft, warm, he was an explosive taste on her tongue.
“Look at me, bella.”
She squeezed her eyes closed tighter, afraid of what he would see in them. Afraid of the wide chasm of need that opened up inside her when he held her like this, when he moved inside her.
“Please, V. Finish me off, won’t you? I want to come so desperately I feel like I’ll die if I don’t,” she said, imbuing every inch of want that thrummed through her into her words.
“I won’t move inside you while you hide away from me, bella,” he growled, a vein of tension in his voice. Every inch of him was taut under her fingers. He strummed a line of music on her bare back, his mouth at her temple. “I have become used to seeing myself in your eyes, Alessandra. I have become used to drowning in your gaze.”
Her head jerked up at the pure need in those words.
So she let their mouths tangle, their tongues lap at each other, their teeth nip at each other until it was hard to tell where she ended and where he began. His heart was a violent drum against her breast, his body a damp, sleek fortress of demand as he thrust up.
With each grunt of his, Alex moved up and down while need corkscrewed in her belly.
She let the sounds and scents that their bodies created together lead her on and on until no rational thought was possible. Vincenzo murmured, “That’s it, Alex. Stay with me.”
And then he was pressing her back into the bed, and holding her down with the thrust of his hips. Alex gave herself over to it as he rode her body hard, chasing his pleasure.
Alex opened her mouth against his bicep and dug her teeth in, knowing what he liked. Wanting him lost to this madness like her. “Faster, please, V,” she sobbed, her release an ephemeral breath away.
Her legs draped over his shoulders, his pelvis rubbed sinuously against her in exactly the right place every time he thrust.
“Touch yourself, bella. Come with me,” he commanded, and Alex moved her hand down from his chest to the apex of her thighs.
Eyes wide-open, she held Vincenzo’s gaze, and the emotion she saw there pushed her over the edge. “Oh,” she whispered, on and on, again and again, into his damp skin as her release flung her open wide.
There was nothing like the magic of her climax when he was inside her, something he made them both work for every time. Nothing like being swept up by the storm of pleasure that drove him toward his own.
Her release continued in short pulses. Vincenzo deepened his thrusts—once, twice, thrice—and fell onto her with a fierce growl. Her name on his lips was a crooning whisper that settled like a blanket of contentment over her naked skin. Alex wrapped her arms around him and held on, as if the physical act somehow guaranteed more than that. As if…
No, she wasn’t going there. This was all she needed. She’d chosen this path, she’d chosen him, and she’d stick to it come what may.
He stayed on top of her like that, for long, perfect moments. “You okay?” he asked finally.
Alex turned toward him and smiled. “More than okay,” she whispered, and he took her mouth in a rough,
