Claimed by the Sicilian. Kate Walker
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heated point of contact burned like a searing brand against her skin, for all it was so soft and gentle.
‘Bellissima…’ Guido murmured against her spine, kissing his way down each vertebra, tracing the path his fingers had followed earlier. ‘Amata…’
Amber felt as if she was melting. As if every part of her was being flooded by the heated honey sensation between her legs, reaching out to set the rest of her body on fire.
‘Guido…’
She didn’t know if she actually spoke his name aloud or if it was just part of the litany of need inside her head. Every part of her was focused on the spot where his mouth wreaked a devastating magic on her skin.
‘Amber…’
She had forgotten the way he spoke her name when in the heat of passion. Forgotten the way that the syllables were long-drawn-out, the way that the final R was rolled until the sound became just a tiger’s purr.
Amberrrrr…
‘Amber, tesora—turn round. Turn to me—let me see your face.’
She had no power to resist the murmured enticement, had no will but to do as he said. Why not, when it was what she most wanted in the entire world too?
And so she turned, slowly, sensuously, feeling his gaze on her as she moved. And when she finally came full circle, when she was facing him, still within the confines of his arms, she saw the fierce burn of need that glittered in the darkness of his eyes.
‘The dress…’ he said harshly, the rawness of his voice scraping over highly sensitised nerves.
He didn’t complete the sentence, but Amber needed nothing more. Slowly uncurling her fingers from their hold on the white silk, she let it fall, softly slithering its way down her body to land in a glistening pool around her feet. Without its covering, she stood, proudly exposed in just the white basque and a sliver of lace beneath that, covering the chestnut curls between her thighs. The finest, most delicate whispers of stockings were supported by a matching suspender belt.
‘Cara…’
It was just a whisper of sound and Guido closed his eyes briefly. Just for a moment. But it was quite long enough for Amber to lose her mind completely. Lose her mind, lose her restraint, lose any last remaining shreds of common sense and self-preservation. She didn’t know what drove her, didn’t understand what pushed her forward, only knew that it was an impulse, a need she couldn’t resist.
She was hungry, yearning and empty inside, aching with a need that his touch had awoken, his kisses had brought spiralling to the surface. She had felt his mouth on her skin, his touch on her body. Now she needed, so desperately, to kiss and touch and taste and feel for herself.
Needed to kiss and touch and taste and feel the essence that was purely Guido.
Before her brain had even registered the thought, she had taken the couple of steps forward that brought her up close to him. Her breathing fast and shallow, her mind spinning, she lifted her head, pressed her mouth to the hard plane of his cheek, feeling the raw scrape of stubble against the sensitive flesh of her lips.
He smelled wonderful; he tasted even better. She let her tongue slip out; let it touch against his skin. Tasted the slightly salt flavour of him.
And saw his eyes fly open, look down into hers.
If she had thought that they seemed to have been turned black by desire before, now they were even deeper and darker than ever. But they gleamed like burnished metal, burning into hers with hungry fire.
Just for a moment that hunger startled her, made a quiver of something that was close to fear run through her. Never before, even when they were married, had he shown so openly, so shockingly, the searing passion he felt for her. It terrified her in the same moment that it excited her, so that she made to take a step back…
And stopped dead as his arm came out, fastening around her neck, pulling her closer. His mouth came down on hers, crushing it, taking it, making her his again.
That was the only thought that went through her head before her mind stopped functioning and sensation took over. I’m his and only his. I don’t want anyone else. Don’t want to be with anyone else. This is what I want—this is what I need.
This is what I am.
But the next kiss drove any rational thought from her head. The fierce, sizzling strength of it took her mind and shattered it, left her only able to function on the most basic, most primitive level. The level of pure physical need and nothing more.
Her mouth opened under his, allowing the silken heat of his tongue to invade and plunder, taking, tasting, teasing, tantalising. And she went right with it. Giving back everything she could in return, matching need for need, hunger for hunger.
She barely noticed when Guido snatched her up. Wasn’t aware of the way that he shrugged off his jacket as he carried her towards the bed. Her arms were clasped tight around his neck, her mouth locked with his as they fell together onto the goldcoloured covers, her shoes tumbling to the floor as they did so.
‘It’s been too long…too long…way too long…’ Guido muttered as he kissed his way along her jawline, over her cheek, back to her mouth.
He didn’t stop to ask if it was what she wanted too. Didn’t need to. They both knew the question had been asked, the answer given in that first moment when she’d turned to him. And again when she had let the dress drop. And when she had stepped into his space, kissed him on the cheek. From that point on there had been no going back and both of them knew it.
‘I have waited too long…’
‘Mmm…’
It was all that Amber could manage, the unformed sound catching in her throat as he came down on top of her, his mouth taking hers again, hands roaming over her body, seeking, stroking, finding pleasure spots she had forgotten existed, ones she could have sworn that even she hadn’t known about before. Excitement rushed through her, fizzing, burning, stinging like an electric current, making her tug hard at his shirt, wrench the buttons from their fastenings.
‘I’m wearing too many clothes…’ It was a moan of complaint, of protest, and she felt rather than heard the dark laughter that shook his long body.
‘Too many clothes, perhaps,’ he told her huskily, ‘but then again, I think I like it. I like this amazing contraption you’re wearing—love the way it pushes your breasts out—everything on display for my eyes…’
They burned into her skin, his gaze almost a physical touch in itself.
‘My hands…’
Hot fingers stroked the exposed pale flesh of her breasts, curving over them, cupping them above and then below, lifting them even higher.
‘And my mouth…’
Suiting action to the words, he bent to the soft skin, letting first his lips, then his tongue slide over her quivering breasts, finally letting his teeth graze the delicate curves, making her moan aloud in excitement.
His hands were at her sides, moving over the boned bodice, shaping the narrow curve of her waist. Then up again, his touch growing heavier, more urgent, hard fingers slipping into the lacy cups, finding her swollen nipples, rolling them between a forefinger and thumb.
‘Guido…!’
His name was a gasp of shock, a sound of delight, a moan of encouragement all in one. ‘You like that, mia bellezza?’
Guido punctuated the words with hot kisses over the curve of one breast and then the other, then back again.
‘You want more?’
‘Oh, yes…yes…I want…I want you.’
‘Soon, carissima, soon.’
Another kiss took her yearning mouth, giving