Page 30 of Ciao, Amore

Closing the bedroom door properly, for his sake, she crossed the carpet to his bathroom under the disapproving glare of yet another D’Alessio ancestor, an older man with jowls and a hawkish profile, and knocked.

She swore she heard a moan, but maybe she was imagining things and it was a response she hadn’t understood. She knocked harder.

“Nico, it’s Dani. When you’re done, I need to use your bathroom,” she called.

“What?” he shouted back.

“I said I need to use your shower. Mine is leaking and gross,” she shouted back.

He mumbled something, and the water shut off immediately. When he came out minutes later, her heart stopped in her throat. Fuck, he looked hot with the tips of his hair dripping water down his face and the column of his throat. It formed a sinuous river that ran down the pale gold carved chest and that six-pack through that delicious smattering of dark hair on his belly, lower to the cock she’d dreamed about riding all last night. It was standing at attention right now, tenting the towel wrapped around his waist, and his face was red not from hot water but from…passion? Embarrassment? Had he just been…?

“Did you say your shower is leaking?” he asked. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, and he sounded a little out of breath. “It’s a shower. There’s supposed to be water coming from it.”

“Brown water? Unless that’s how water here is supposed to look, um, no.” She couldn’t help the slow grin that spread across her face. “What were you just doing?”

Nico twisted his lips at her, but his eyes ran from her mouth down her body, and she realized that her robe was on the thin side, like her pajamas. No bra confined her breasts, and they suddenly felt heavy, needy for the fingers and mouth that had teased them just a day ago.

Nope. Not happening.

He moved closer, and she backed away, but dammit, she couldn’t move fast enough.

“I can either tell you, or I can show you,” he said. Nico reached out before she could take another step back and wrapped his arms around her waist, jerking her toward him so their hips crashed together. His body felt good. Too good. The sculpted beauty of his face was too damned close. “Buongiorno,bella.”

God, hepurredthose words and sent another stream to running, this time between her legs.

“Hey. You’re wetting up my robe.” Her voice? Weakened, like her will.

Before she could keep complaining, he growled, “That’s not the only thing I need to get wet.”

Then his mouth,those lips,descended on hers. This kiss was hungrier than last night’s; where that was sweet, this was that spicy stuff.

“I couldn’t sleep all night, thinking about you right across the hall in that big bed without me,” Nico murmured against her lips. “Tell me again why we’re in separate rooms?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, not feeling very sorry at all. “But that was the agreement. Separate rooms, no more fucking. That’s the dealyouinsisted on, remember?”

“Clearly, I’m shit at making deals. I think we need to amend that contract one more time.”

Nico rolled his hips into her core, and the ridge of his erection rubbed a line of pure sin right up the middle. His breath hitched. She remembered how his face looked when he came, and her legs were almost useless holding her up. She wanted to see him do that again—wanted to hear the sounds he made when he released inside her.

“My lawyer says it's airtight,” she moaned.

By then, his mouth had moved to her neck, stroking her skin with a soft, lapping tongue that hit all the right spots. He bit her there gently, and she dizzied.

“But I’m dying. My hand on my cock is nothing compared to being buried in your sweet pussy. Let me get a taste. Just the tip, I swear. You can save a life. Be a humanitarian.”

Dani’s laugh was a hiccup caught in her throat when his hand squeezed her breast, palming the nipple and rubbing till it pebbled. Nico did the same to her other breast, and she looked down at his hands, those strong fingers pinching and pulling, each tug mirrored by a pulse of her clit every time his cock and that rough cloth bumped against it. Was he able to make her come just by playing with her like this?

“Stop being so dramatic. You’re not dying,” she managed to say.

But she might suffer for eternity if she never felt him inside her again. She couldn’t help the soft gasp that escaped her when the hand moved lower to cup and squeeze her ass, bringing her even tighter against him. Involuntarily, her legs widened to feel more of his hardness as he rocked against her.

“I am. Really. Save me…”

The scent of his sage soap washed over her. The taut skin under her fingers was soaked and warm. His cock grinding against her pussy through her shorts and that nubby towel was about to send her sailing over the edge into release.

Fuck it, why not? It was too good to stop at this little taste. When his fingers moved to tug her robe fully open, she couldn’t keep pretending she didn’t want this. The robe was open, and her fingers were hooking on his towel, and—

Nico pushed her hands away and stepped back. The kisses, the friction, all ceased at once, and the high tension of her close orgasm came crashing down to a screaming low.

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