Page 31 of The Italian's Pregnant Enemy (A Diamond in the Rough)

“Yes. You’re beautiful. The most beautiful man that I’ve ever seen. And I have found that confronting all this time. You’re right. I did want control.”

“And now you’ll surrender it,” he said. “I don’t think I’ll take my clothes off. Not now. Now, I think you have to wait. But I think you will get naked for me.”

His high-handed tone should irritate her, but instead she felt herself growing even wetter with her need for him. She’d already had an orgasm, but she could feel another one building. He wasn’t even touching her, it was just because of the way he was looking at her. And suddenly, her body felt more beautiful than it ever had. Felt powerful. Because she could see the need in his eyes, the need to see her. The need to touch her.

She moved into a sitting position, reached behind herself and took off her bra. The chains made a soft sound as she flung it to the floor. She watched as his gaze fell to her breasts, and then she stood up, pushing her underwear down her legs, all the way to the floor, stepping out of them. “Is this what you had in mind?”

He got up on his knees and growled. Then he cupped her ass with his hands, and brought her forward, taking a long, slow stroke of the cleft between her thighs, tasting her like she was ice cream.

She let out a shocked sound, forking her fingers into his hair as she widened her stance so that he could have greater access to the most intimate part of her.

He stroked her, the wetness there easing his passage.

She was almost embarrassed by it, but... This was her night.

So instead she held his face there, moving her hips in time with the stroke from his tongue.

“Come,” he commanded.

“I just did,” she panted.

“Come again,” he growled, his teeth scraping against her sensitive skin before he slicked his tongue over her body one more time and she came apart.

She shuddered and shattered, her whole world reduced to sparkling shards.

She was remade beneath that mouth. That beautiful, glorious mouth.

If she had the potential to be shocked by it, it wasn’t here. Not in this moment.

“Dario,” she whispered.

He rose to his feet and picked her up off the ground, moving his hands down her thighs and lifting her and encouraging her to put her legs around his waist.

She moaned, and he laid her down on his bed, rising up over her, and leaning down to kiss her mouth. She could taste her own desire there, the force of her own need.

She felt like perhaps that should embarrass her also. But there just was no embarrassment here. There was nothing but want. Nothing but need.

It was cascading glory, and she wanted to capture each and every glimmer.

He moved away from her, and stripped his shirt up over his head, revealing his glorious body. His dark, heavily muscled chest with dark hair sprinkled across. She watched the shift and bunch of his muscles, the glory of his abs.

Then he pushed his sweats and underwear down his legs, leaving him entirely exposed to her gaze. She had never seen a naked man in person before.

He was... He was incredible. Just beautiful.

If they wanted to make a real, impressive classical statue, then Dario would be the perfect model.

But he would leave all those other Italian sculptures shamed in his wake.

“I’m on the pill,” she blurted out.

She took a low-dose birth control pill to help with her periods. And she had thought that it was probably a handy thing, for when she did become sexually active. And, she had always intended to use it in conjunction with condoms, since that was responsible. But she was stuck in a house with Dario, and she imagined he hadn’t brought any. She was not about to let that disrupt the moment.

“Good,” he said, short and sharp.

He moved back to the bed, back to her, kissing her deeply, pressed against her body, the heat of his skin, all that bare skin, leaving her breathless.

“Dario,” she whispered.

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