Page 63 of Dario DeLuca

I lunge, pressing him against the wall. Our lips meet—no, they crash—with a feverish hunger that speaks of desperation. The taste of him—like bitter espresso and a hint of danger—invades my senses, damn near branding me.

My breath comes ragged as I break away, my fingers tangling with his. There's no need for words. The language of our bodies is far more articulate. I lead him by the hand to the sanctity of the bedroom, where shadows dance across the floor, cast by the light filtering through the blinds.

I begin to shed my clothes, but he stops me, his hands covering mine.

"Let me," Dario murmurs, his voice a low rumble that resonates in the hollow of my chest.

He undresses me slowly, reverently, as if unwrapping a precious gift. He starts with my shirt, and with each piece of clothing he removes, he kisses me the newly exposed flesh. Inch by inch, item by item, until I’m bare before him. When his mouth meets the arch of my foot, a shiver rolls through me, delicate yet fierce.

In this charged silence, I feel the weight of his gaze on me once more. It holds a ferocity, a possessiveness that should frighten me, but instead, it feels like coming home. I catch a glimpse of the outline of his arousal straining against the fabric of his pants, and my body responds with an eager ache.

But before I can reach for him, Dario is there, lifting me with an ease that speaks to his hidden strength. He carries me to the bed as though I’m something precious, something irreplaceable. Gently, he lays me down, and in this moment, the world narrows to just him and me.

Dario hovers over me, bringing his lips down on mine again with an urgency that steals my breath. This kiss is a promise, a claim, sealing our silent vows to each other. He trails those kisses lower, marking his territory with each touch, leaving a trail of heat down my neck.

Mia, I think, even as I lose myself in the sensations,you chose this man, this moment. And oh, how right you were.

He worships my body with a devotion that leaves no room for doubt. Even as desire coils tighter within me, I can't help but marvel at the man who holds me in thrall—the chiseled lines of his form, the controlled power in his movements.

Dario DeLuca, the man who commands men, now devotes himself to my pleasure. His hands are calloused, yet they move over me with a gentleness that belies their appearance. His body is sculptured perfection, and I intend to praise every line, every curve, with my eyes and with my touch.

Dario moves down my body, stopping only centimeters from my throbbing core. His dark eyes smolder with hunger, and he parts my legs, exposing me fully to his gaze. Anticipation builds in me, and I squirm while tilting my hips towards his mouth.

He chuckles at that, wetting his lips while looking at me tauntingly. My whole body tingles as his breath fans over me. But he doesn’t kiss me there. Instead, he leans in and brushes his lips against my belly button before finally giving my sex the attention I crave.

Dario places open-mouth kisses all over my mound, and his lips touch every inch of skin but my lower ones. He’s teasing me, or more like savoring me.

A whimper slips from me as he finally rubs both thumbs over my folds. Over and over, he strokes my lips, pulling me apart just a little each time. At last, his thumb glides over my clit and down to my slit.

“Mmm,” I moan, my back bucking.

When Dario pulls his hand away, there’s no ignoring my arousal coating his finger.

“Mm Mm Mm,” Dario mutters. “Già così dannatamente bagnato, Bella.”So wet already, Bella.

Then he puts his thumb in his mouth to taste me.Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.What is this man doing to me right now? And suddenly,I remember his words more clearly…what he had actually said was that I would beg him.

So he’s teasing me, making sure I do just that.

“I can’t believe I’ve made it this long without tasting you.”

He thumbs my clit again, circling my bud torturously slow.

“If I knew you tasted this sweet, I would have a long time ago.”

“Dario,” I whisper. “Please.”

“You know, watching you angrily take my dick is amazing, but I think I quite like you begging for it more,” he continues while still rubbing tight circles.

This time he traces my slit and pushes the tip of his thumb into my entrance. Slowly he fucks me with his thumb, his eyes glued to my expression the entire time.

“You have such a pretty pussy, Bella.”

In and out goes.

“So fucking sweet.”

Quickly, he leans forward, taking my clit into his mouth and teasing it with his tongue before pulling back.

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