Page 5 of Thorns of Death
My nostrils flared. He probably considered me a chick that flirted and had sex with strangers all the time. I wasn’t, but it didn’t really matter. I’d probably never see him again.
“No more questions,” I answered. “You may proceed,Enrico.”
Dark amusement flashed in his eyes, and something about seeing his mouth curve into a half-smile made my insides clench. Maybe I’d waited way too long to give sex another try, and now everything about this man made me want to orgasm. I wasn’t a prude by any means. Nor shy. I’d been on plenty of dates, but the touching and kissing left me feeling flat. Until now. Nobody had ever sparked this flame within me and then fanned it into a full-blown inferno like this Italian stallion.
No wonder women went bananas for Italian men.
He cupped me through my dress and I whimpered, my body arching against the wall behind me. His thumb found my clit and dug its way through the fabric, pressing hard and massaging it in lazy circles.
A moan climbed up my throat and filled the space between us.
“Fuck, you’re eager,dolcezza,” he murmured, his lips skimming my throat.
“My name is Isla,” I snapped back. “Not dolce-whatever.”
A dark chuckle vibrated in his chest. “It means sweetheart in Italian.”
“Oh.” Fuck, if all Italian men looked like him, I should definitely learn the language.
He pulled away, studying my face as he removed his blazer. He kicked off his shoes next, and I anxiously waited for his shirt and pants to come off. They didn’t. Not yet, anyhow, and his next move made me forget everything.
His body slammed against mine and our lips fused together. He was so much taller than me that it felt like I’d been swallowed whole by him. My eyes rolled into the back of my head from the pleasure that shot through me. Stars exploded behind my eyelids, and I wrapped my hands around his neck, clutching the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer. Needing more of him.
He hoisted me into his arms, and my legs wrapped around his waist. My heels fell against the hardwood floor with a thump. His fingers dug into my ass as I ground against him, lust igniting in my lower belly. When he rubbed his length against me, I lost all control. His body was like marble under my touch. I moaned, sinking my claws into him, needing so much more from him.
Enrico’s lips were as soft as velvet when he slipped his tongue into my mouth. Another moan bubbled in my throat and he swallowed it, his hips rolling against my hot core. And by the feel of his hard—very hard—cock, he was well-endowed.
Each roll of his hips against my slit sent a shot of pleasure through me. We kissed like two needy humans. Maybe he’d been just as starved for touch as I was. Or maybe he just gave it his all when he fucked. Right now, it didn’t matter to me. Like a greedy woman, I took everything.
He bit my lower lip hard before sucking the pain away. I cried out for more, grinding my body shamelessly against his. He slipped his hand between us and under my dress. He nudged my panties aside before slipping two fingers into me as my head fell back against the wall. An obscenely erotic noise filled the room. A noise that came fromme,from howwetI was.
He growled, murmuring something in Italian. I was so far gone that I couldn’t have cared less what he said. I just needed him to see this through. An involuntary groan escaped my lips when he dug his fingers deeper into me. Each time he thrust them in, he curled them and hit my G-spot.
He pulled his fingers out, and a whimper escaped me. My eyes shot open to find him staring at me. He looked put together, almost unaffected, but there was a dark gleam in his eyes that had my soul shaking from its dark promises.
His other hand traveled up to my breasts, twisting one nipple roughly through the thin fabric of my dress. “Isla,” he drawled, bringing his fingers up and smearing my desire over my bottom lip. “Is that Russian?”
“Yes,” I breathed. “No.” I couldn’t think straight. My brothers always insisted on keeping my Russian heritage a secret. “I grew up in California.”
He returned his fingers to my pussy while he tasted me on my lips. “Your mouth tastes like sweetness, mydolcezza.”
He skimmed his mouth over my lips, my jawline, and then down to my neck. Ignoring my inexperience, I brought my hand down to his zipper and pushed my palm against his huge cock. Jesus H. Christ.
There was no way he’d fit. He was built like one of those dicks in my favorite alien romance novels.
He must have sensed my panic, because he purred, “I set the pace, but you get the pleasure first.”
It sounded like a good deal. Fuck if I knew. I was still hung up on his huge alien cock.
He slipped another finger into me—most of his hand—and I was so full I thought I was going to explode. He swallowed my moans with our filthy kiss as he kept thrusting his fingers into me until pleasure shot through me like a lightning bolt. I came all over his hand, shudders rolling down my spine, my body quickly turning into mush.
Enrico steadied me, taking my chin between his fingers and holding our gazes locked. “We have barely gotten started,” he growled. “Are you ready for the next round?”
I watched him through half-lidded eyes. “I was born ready,” I murmured, my voice hoarse.
“Bene.” He seemed pleased with my answer, his eyes lasering in on me. “Now, I’m going to eat your pussy. You better taste as good as you look.” Then he smiled smugly. “Although judging by the sweetness on your lips, I won’t be disappointed.”
Before I could even process his words, he braced me securely against the wall, then slid to his knees. Effortless and agile, like he was in his prime. Well, duh. The manwasin his prime. In one swift movement, he flipped my dress up and pulled my panties down my legs and tossed them aside. He threw one of my legs over his shoulder and drove his tongue into me.
