Married For Revenge: Roccanti's Marriage Revenge / A Deal at the Altar / A Vow of Obligation. LYNNE GRAHAM
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enlargement but had feared that with so slim a body she might end up looking top heavy and unnatural. Now all of a sudden she wanted to be perfect—she wanted to be perfect purely for Vitale.
‘What is it?’ he prompted, crossing the floor to grip her taut shoulders.
‘I’m feeling horribly shy,’ she told him in a rush.
He lifted her off her feet and set her on the side of the bed and then he kissed her, knotting one hand into the soft silky fall of her hair to hold her steady. It was a hungry, demanding kiss, his tongue flicking against the sensitive roof of her mouth to fire a response that raced through her like an explosive depth charge. She forgot who she was, she forgot who he was, she even contrived to forget that she was a virgin. Her palms skated up over the hard muscular wall of his powerful chest and with a groan deep in his throat he caught her hand and, in a stark expression of need, brought it down to the thrust of his erection beneath his trousers.
Pleased to recognise that he wanted her that much, Zara stroked him and struggled to run down his zip. Her slim fingers skimmed beneath the fabric to find the long, thick evidence of his arousal. He pushed against her hand, hard, eager, and hungry for her touch and it fired her up, finally convincing her that in spite of her inexperience she was sexy enough to turn him on hard.
Vitale yanked off her T-shirt with impatient hands and kissed her again while pushing her back across the bed. His urgency, as he dispensed with his trousers while exchanging hard, driving kisses that stoked her hunger higher and higher, was undeniable. He couldn’t get enough of her, couldn’t get close enough. Zara knew exactly what she wanted for all her lack of experience. She wanted him on top of her, she craved his weight, but instead he found the petal-soft pink tips of her small breasts and used his mouth on those delectable buds with a skill that wrung a gasp from her parted lips.
‘You’re very sensitive there, gioia mia,’ Vitale breathed thickly, raking her dainty breasts with eager, admiring eyes.
No longer concerned about the size of her attributes, Zara trembled, insanely conscious of the wet heat building at the heart of her, but for an instant, when he skimmed off his boxers and she saw the powerful upstanding proof of his excitement, her nerves almost betrayed her. Her body craved him but she was afraid it might hurt. Irritated with herself, she suppressed that fear and then all such thoughts fled her mind as he explored her most private place that she was tempted to hide from him. But the desire was too strong, the sensation he gave her too intense to be denied by modesty.
He lay on the bed teasing at her lower lip with tiny little bites that only inflamed her more while he touched her most tender flesh with a skill that made her back arch and her hips lift off the mattress. He eased a finger inside her and groaned against her swollen mouth.
‘You’re so tight, so wet …’
Her face burned and an ache bloomed between her thighs, an unbearable yearning for much more. With his thumb he found her clitoris and all thought and awareness fell away, reducing her to a much more elemental level. She pushed up to him and kissed him wildly for herself, shivering when the straining buds of her nipples grazed his warm hard chest.
All masculine dominance, Vitale leant over her, dark golden eyes ablaze with desire as he kissed her long and hard. ‘I want you so much I’m burning …’
‘So what are you waiting for?’ Zara urged breathlessly, because he had brought her to an edge of anticipation that was intolerable and without her volition her hips were shifting up to him in tiny needy movements.
He tore the foil off a condom and eased it on while she watched, madly curious about what she had never known but rather apprehensive as well, although she was striving to suppress that feeling. He would fit, of course he would. Nature had designed men and women to fit. He leant over her, strong and sure, and she felt the head of him against her slick, damp entrance. Her body trembled with expectation when he plunged into her.
It hurt and a moan of protest escaped Zara. When he froze, staring down at her, his eyes full of enquiry and confusion, she was mortified.
‘Zara?’ he began, ‘I hurt you. I’m sorry—’
‘I don’t want to discuss it,’ Zara told him hurriedly. She could feel the tension draining away, the pain already receding, and suspected she had made a lot of noise about nothing. ‘You can continue …’
It was that prim little command now, in the most inappropriate of circumstances, that nearly sent Vitale into a fit of laughter. With difficulty he restrained his amusement, for her lovely face was a picture of disquiet and embarrassment. ‘But I hurt you—’
‘Some things are just too private to talk about,’ Zara assured him.
‘You really want me to continue?’ Vitale queried in a strained undertone, wondering why no other woman had ever made him want to laugh as she did.
‘You might as well now,’ Zara pointed out prosaically, abandoning all hope of receiving much enjoyment from the act now.
Just as she thought that, Vitale sank into her up to the hilt and an erotic thrill sizzled through her like the touch of a firebrand on naked skin. As he began to move she struggled to swallow back a gasp of surprise. She felt truly extraordinary, as if her body were directly attuned to his. A sweet torment of pleasure built as he withdrew and then thrust deep again, jolting a low cry from her. She no longer had the ability to rein back her response. Intense, all-consuming pleasure gripped her and she panted for breath, her urgency rising in exact proportion to her need. Her excitement climbed higher and higher, spiralling through her like a bright light fighting to escape. Then, just when she thought she couldn’t bear it any more, she reached a peak and fell apart in an exquisite agony of sensation, eyes opening, lips parting in wonderment as he shuddered over her in the throes of his own climax.
Eyes brilliant with gratification, Vitale claimed her mouth one more time. ‘Ebbene … now then, you amazing woman,’ he growled hoarsely. ‘That was a worthy continuance.’
Feeling wonderfully at peace, Zara pressed her lips gently against his satin-smooth shoulder. He lifted her wrist and let his tongue glide along the pulse there, making her quiver helplessly. She glanced up at him from below her lashes, recognising that this was a guy who knew every button to push. He kicked back the sheet and got up to stride into the bathroom, and she turned over onto her side, still stunned by the power of what she had experienced in his arms.
The aftermath of that wondrous pleasure was still engulfing her. Great sex, she labelled dizzily, but she wanted more and was already wondering if Vitale planned to continue what they had begun. Or was she just a little weekend distraction? That humiliating possibility had to be considered. After all, theirs had been a chance attraction, rather than a more conventional one. Ironically she had sacrificed so much more to be with him, she recognised ruefully. There was no question of her marrying Sergios Demonides now. Furthermore she could barely believe that she had been so blind to the risk of temptation when she agreed to marry a man she neither loved nor cared for simply to please her parents. How immature and foolish was that? Oh, how much easier life would have been now had she paid more heed to Bee’s warnings and told Sergios that she was very sorry but she had changed her mind!
Well, she supposed wryly, a change of heart weeks before the wedding invitations even went out was better than a marriage that failed. No doubt Sergios would be annoyed with her for wasting his time. She had wasted everyone’s time and no doubt the cancellation of all the wedding arrangements would cost her parents a great deal of money. She had been very foolish and shortsighted about her own needs. But what was done was done and now everything had changed. There was no going back to the mindset she had cherished before she came to Italy and met Vitale Roccanti. He had blown everything she thought she knew about herself to smithereens. She wanted more from a marriage than Sergios could ever have given her.
‘Join me in the shower,’ Vitale husked from the doorway.
She slid out of the bed as though he had pulled an invisible piece of elastic that had her attached to one end. Being naked without even the coverage of a sheet or his body was a challenge for her,