Rising Stars. Maisey Yates
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made her body tighten with new desire.
As her body accepted him fully, Alessandro moved with increasing roughness, riding her harder and deeper, holding her hips with his hands. Her breasts swayed with the increasing force of his thrusts, the headboard slapping against the wall. The pleasure—the pain—made her writhe, her back arching off the bed as she panted for breath, her body desperate with the need for new release. He held her down as he pushed inside her, and he was so huge, so deep, and it felt good, so good. She held her breath, closing her eyes. Her head tilted back and the tension inside her coiled—and coiled—then sprang.
She gave a silent, mindless scream as explosions ripped through her, shaking her whole body as at, the same moment, she heard his growl rise to a shout and he slammed into her with one final, cataclysmic thrust.
When Lilley opened her eyes, she found Alessandro lying on top of her, holding her protectively. She closed her eyes. For no reason she could explain, she suddenly felt like crying. Except he’d taken her to a whole new world.
Why had she ever been so afraid of something so magical?
“I hurt you. I’m sorry.”
At the sound of his low voice, she looked up at his face. The shadowed mystery of his dark eyes held regret and barely satiated desire and something more.
“You didn’t,” she lied.
He gave her a skeptical look.
“A little,” she admitted, then, tossing her arms above her head against the soft pillow, she sighed happily. “But would it be cheesy to say it hurt so good?”
He tenderly kissed her forehead. “Horribly cheesy.”
Then he kissed her mouth with something more than tenderness. His kiss deepened, his tongue twining with her own as his hands cupped her cheeks. She sighed with pleasure, then gave an involuntary wince as he crushed her bruised lips.
“I’m hurting you.” He started to roll over, but she stopped him.
“You’re not.”
“You’re lying.”
“So let me,” she whispered.
A sensual smile curved his lips. He kissed her again, his mouth hot and hard against hers. She felt him move against her, and sighed with bliss.
He suddenly rolled her over on the bed, pulling her on top of his naked body. She gave a little squeak of surprise as he looked up at her with dark, wicked eyes. “Your turn.”
Lilley stared at him. He expected her to lead in bed? To ride him? Her heart pounded in her throat. She was so clumsy. She’d make a fool of herself. “I … I don’t think I can do this. I don’t know how.”
“You will.” Looking straight into her eyes, he put his hand on her cheek. “I can teach you.”
Alessandro leaned up to kiss her, and she forgot to be afraid. Holding on to him, letting him guide her to find her own rhythm, she allowed him to teach her to follow her own pleasure, and lead him to his. She rode him, and joy and freedom filled her soul. For the first time in her life, Lilley was the fearless woman she’d always wanted to be.
Alessandro had never known sex could be like this. Lilley was an intoxicating combination of innocence and fire.
He’d never been so insatiable before. He knew that for the rest of his life he’d remember how he’d had the honor of being her first lover. He’d remember teaching her to control the rhythm and pace as she rode him, timidly at first, then with rising reckless confidence.
Afterward, sweaty and sticky from lovemaking, they’d showered in the enormous, gleaming marble bathroom. Alessandro had watched her as she’d tipped her head back beneath the water. The sight of her arching body as water poured over her breasts and streamed off her tight, pink nipples had been too much for him. She’d flicked him a teasing glance, and he’d suddenly realized she was playing with him. With a growl, he’d pushed her against the cool marble of the shower and made love to her against the wall as hot water sprayed all over them both.
Lilley was a very apt student. No wonder each sexual encounter between them was more explosive than the last.
His innocent virgin was transforming into a wanton sex goddess in front of his eyes.
Rosy-skinned and exhausted, they’d fallen into bed a few hours before dawn and woken up starving a few hours later. They’d made love a fourth time, fast and hot, then ventured downstairs for breakfast.
Alessandro found himself wanting to impress her. He’d given his staff the weekend off, so he made her his signature breakfast dish, a sausage frittata. As he cooked, she scooted around the kitchen wearing an oversized robe, gathering ingredients for her French toast, a delicious confection of nutmeg and cinnamon sugar. They sat together at his kitchen table, basking in the morning light, drinking freshly squeezed orange juice and feeding each other bites of food.
For the first time in Alessandro’s adult life, he had no desire to check in with work, or catch up on the morning news. All he wanted to do was look at her, touch her, be with her. He couldn’t get enough of her exquisite skin and her curvaceous, soft body.
But it was more than just her body.
Being around Lilley made him feel … different. Made him feel his own heart beating. After so many years of being empty and bored, playing the game, making money to keep score, sleeping with women he barely knew and dodging the constant onslaught of people begging for his attention, he could let down his guard. Lilley asked for nothing. She would never hurt him or lie to him. Her openness and honesty reminded him of the person he’d been long ago, before everyone he loved had betrayed him.
For some reason, Lilley liked him. Not his money or his title or even just his body. She liked him. The man inside. And looking at her in the morning light, Alessandro realized that whatever he’d promised her yesterday, he had no intention of giving her up. He didn’t care if it was selfish.
He wanted more than a one-night stand.
“This is delicious,” Lilley murmured, leaning forward at the breakfast table. Her oversized robe fell open to reveal her delectable breasts as she took another bite of frittata. She gave him an impish smile. “To be honest, I didn’t expect cooking to be one of your talents.”
A moment before, he’d been finishing his last piece of French toast, licking the crumbs off his plate. But looking at her state of undress instantly made him want her again, made him want to sweep their dishes to the floor and make love to her on the table. He swallowed. “I usually don’t cook. You inspired me.”
She smiled at him, her trusting warm eyes the color of deep, dark caramel, her beautiful face suffused in the soft glow of morning light as she whispered, “Not half as much as you inspire me.”
Alessandro stared at her, lost in her gaze. He could no more stop himself from wanting her than he could stop breathing.
But keeping her would be wrong. Very wrong.
I have no reason to feel guilty, he told himself fiercely. He’d tried to let her go once already. She’d made her own choice. He’d told her up front he could never marry her or love her. She could protect her own heart.
Reaching his hand out to her cheek, he slowly stroked down her neck to her swelling breasts half revealed by the gape of her robe. Her lips parted in surprise and he could not resist the invitation. Leaning over the table, he kissed her. He felt her soft lips move against his, matching his passion, and nearly groaned. Selfish or not, nothing on earth could make him give her up. Not now. Not yet.
Rising to his feet, Alessandro pulled her from her chair.
Untying her sash, he dropped her robe to the floor, leaving her naked skin glowing in a pool of morning light. He gave a shuddering intake of breath. “Walk ahead of me,” he said hoarsely. “So I can see you.”
Her eyebrow quirked. In a quick movement, she jerked