by Lucy Monroe
“Yes, I have.”
“No regrets?”
She almost asked him again how he could possibly doubt that, but stopped herself. He wanted a direct answer. No chance for any misunderstanding between them. “None.”
“Bene.” He began to draw lines down her body with his fingertips. “I am going to touch you.”
“Okay.”
He smiled. “Close your eyes and feel, amore.”
She did and he touched her. Everywhere. Alternating between soft skimming caresses and pressure that massaged muscles she hadn’t realized were sore in her post-orgasmic bliss, he mapped every centimeter of her skin.
From the top of her head, which he massaged with adept, masculine fingers, making her moan in pleasure, to her toes, which he sucked one by one, sending carnal delight zinging up her legs directly to that place in between, to all spots in between, Vincenzo claimed her body with his fingers, lips and tongue.
She was vibrating with the need to climax again when he was done. The leaking tip of his sex said he was feeling the same ache for completion, but he did not move between her legs.
Instead he lay back, his blue gaze holding hers hostage. “Do you want to touch me?”
“Yes.” Even more than she wanted that ultimate pleasure.
“You have ten minutes. You may touch me anywhere, any way you like.” He waited a beat. “But you cannot make me come.”
She nodded her understanding, reaching out immediately to caress his chest. She didn’t worry that she should start somewhere else. He wanted her hands on his body and that was all that mattered.
He’d taken the pressure off needing to bring him to climax by ordering her not to do so. And he’d shown her that every inch of skin could be an erogenous zone.
All she had to do was follow her own desires and he would like it. She wasn’t sure how she knew that, but it was an absolute certainty within her.
Maybe she was just too close to the edge sexually to stress about knowing how to do this right, but her lack of practical experience simply didn’t matter right then.
She traced the lines of his face, letting her fingertips trail down his neck. “You are so handsome.”
“Thank you, bèdda.”
She shook her head. How could he thank her for the truth? She used her whole hands on his chest, rubbing her palms over the small brown disks with tiny hardened nubs in the center before mapping each line of his six-pack.
If she let herself touch his arousal she wouldn’t touch anything else, so she skipped his pelvic area altogether and moved down his legs. She wanted to see if she could bring goosebumps to his flesh like he’d done with hers.
His olive skin did not pimple with sensation, but he shivered for her, his muscles jumping. She was pretty sure she was close to time when she bent over his weeping erection and licked the moisture drops right from the tip.
That got her a groan and the restless shifting of his hips.
She laved his entire shaft, returning again and again to the sweet, nearly clear fluid welling in his slit. She bathed him with her tongue, taking in his intimate flavor, breathing deeply of the male musk emanating from the heated skin.
She was so lost in her own pleasure at tasting him she did not register the hand gently pushing her head.
Not toward the masculine treasure, but away. “Your time is up, my Audrey.”
She lifted her head, her eyes unfocused so that he was a blur for the seconds it took her pupils to contract. “Another time I want unlimited minutes to taste and touch you.”
“Not tonight.”
She inclined her head in agreement. She’d promised him her trust tonight. That she would follow his lead.
“Come here.” He put his arms out in invitation.
She didn’t hesitate, but dove for that embrace, her body landing on top of his. She kept her legs together, the disparity in their heights making his truly impressive erection settle in the seam of her thighs, just brushing the apex.
“You are delightfully sensual,” he praised as he traced her lips with his fingertip.
“I’m not like this with anyone else.” Never had been with Thad, and no other man had tempted her out of her self-imposed isolation into anything like this.
“Then it is a precious gift I will treasure.”
The reminder that this was a test-drive for the job of his convenient wife flickered through her mind, but passion smothered it.
He rolled them, one strong thigh pressing hers apart.
Was it time? She was ready. More than ready. All trepidation at what was to come was drowned in the waves of bliss being touched by and touching him sent crashing through her body.
She allowed her body to soften under him, spreading her thighs to ease his access.
He leaned up, his hand reaching down to her moist intimate flesh and one finger slipping inside her very slick channel.
“You are very wet, biddùzza.” There was a wealth of satisfaction in his voice.
She just hummed her pleasure at the very intimate touch.
He spread the wetness up over her swollen clitoris until all of the sensitized flesh between her thighs was slippery with the inescapable proof of her pleasure.
He shifted his body, adjusting their positions so the bulbous tip of his erection sat against her clitoris. Then he pressed down with his pelvis and thrust upward, causing his entire length to drag against her slick folds and pleasure center.
“What…? This isn’t…” She couldn’t finish a thought, not with him stimulating her most sensitive spot the way he was.
“This is exactly what I wish to do right now. I will make it very good for you. Sì, amore?”
“Yes.” There could be no other answer.
He continued thrusting until she met him, movement for movement, pressing upward, the ball of pleasure building and centering inside her and then just hovering there, on the edge of bliss as he continued the maddening frottage.
“Please, Enzu! I need…” she begged, her body supplicating along with her words.
He thrust three more times, each glide of his hardened flesh against hers slower and conversely more powerful than the last.
Then he reared back, his hand going down, two fingers sliding inside her without warning, pressing deep.
She winced, her body jerking when they hit the barrier inside, but she told him, “Don’t stop.”
“I will not.”
He massaged her inside, pressing inexorably against the thin membrane that protected her sexual innocence. His other hand slid up her thigh and he cupped her mound protectively. “Mine.”
She nodded, her throat too tight and dry to speak.
He pressed his thumb against her clitoris, drawing tight circles over her aching nub.
Suddenly the pleasure inside her was acute, the climax that had hovered so close but just out of reach on the verge of exploding. Her body went rigid, every muscle contracting in anticipation of pleasure so big it would have frightened her with anyone else.
“Now, my Audrey. Come for me again,” he instructed as his fingers thrust deep inside her.
Ecstasy detonated and fireworks went off inside her, making her womb contract and every nerve-ending in her body explode. This time she screamed so loud and long her throat was raw with it.
His fingers pressed through the barrier of her body. The pain was there, but unable to break through the astonishing pleasure for dominance of her senses.
He had taken her virginity, but kept his promise. Vincenzo had not lost control, his beautiful sex had not breached her body, stretching her and tearing through the fragile membrane with inevitable pain.
He knelt there, between her legs, and took himself in hand. Once, twice and then his face twisted in a rictus of ultimate delight while he ejaculated onto her body.
When he was done, he used the same hand he’d touched himself with to rub his seed into her skin like lotion. The look in his Mediterranean-blue eyes made the act one of primal claim-staking
she was not even sure actual intercourse could have rivaled.
For tonight Audrey Miller belonged wholly to Vincenzo Tomasi. Full-stop.
They cuddled together in the warm humid air and she slid into a doze. Not sleeping deeply, but not fully alert, either. Tonight had been nothing like she could have ever expected or even dreamed about.
Maybe Toby had been right. Maybe Vincenzo was a superhero. He was certainly more man than any other she knew.
He woke her from dreams born of memories they’d made only that night with a kiss. “We must shower and return to our rooms to dress. Your brother will be arriving in less than hour.”
Nothing else would have convinced her it was a good idea to leave the security of Vincenzo’s arms. But at his words she forced herself to sit up, drawing away from him.
She shivered at the cold not touching him sent through her soul, despite their balmy environment.
He seemed to understand, putting his hand out to take hers. “Come, we will shower together.”
She wasn’t about to argue at the continued opportunity for closeness.
He led her to a shower tucked into an artfully arranged group of oversize leafy green plants between the pool and the grotto with the hot tub.
The hot water felt wonderful on muscles that were not used to the rictus of extended and multiple orgasms. Even more soothing were Vincenzo’s hands as they lathered and washed her body, gentle between her legs as he rinsed away the smears of blood left behind by her torn barrier. He let her wash him as well, his semi-erect manhood growing into full hardness even though it had not been her intention to turn him on.
He laughed when she apologized. “Do not worry about it, biddùzza. We will arrange a night when I can lose myself in your body until we both pass out from exhaustion.”
She gasped, a zing of desire sparking through her in response to his promise.
They donned their robes after they dried off, but Vincenzo tossed both of their suits with the used towels into a laundry bin.
He held her hand as they made their way in companionable silence along the path back to the sliding glass doors.
A happy yowl sounded, before two balls of fur streaked across the path only to collide into one mass of rolling, spotted fur.
Audrey yelped, but Vincenzo merely laughed. “Finally they decide to show themselves.”
“What in the world are they?” she asked, her heart still lodged somewhere in her throat.
Vincenzo grinned, his expression more open and relaxed than she’d ever seen it. “They are ocicats—a feline similar in coloring to the ocelot, but smaller and fully domesticated.”
“You have pets?” she asked in absolute shock.
“They were both damaged when their breeder’s facility was broken into.”
“Damaged? In what way?”
“I will show you.” Vincenzo whistled like he would to a dog.
Strangely enough the cats stopped their play and came trotting over. One had only three legs; the other had an ear that had been torn and had healed with ragged edges.
Audrey dropped to her knees and put her hands out for the animals. “You poor lovelies. What are your names, hmm?”
“Spot lost his leg to a glass shard. It was either amputate or lose the cat. Rover’s ear was either the result of his brethren’s stress at the breakin or more glass. The breeders didn’t know which.”
“How awful. Dog’s names, though?” she asked with teasing disbelief.
“Devon insisted.” Vincenzo’s lips twitched. “The ocicat is known for acting more canine than feline.”
“Your majordomo found them?”
“He learned the breeders planned to euthanize them. Spot and Rover cannot be shown competitively and therefore could not be sold for the usual exorbitant rate. They had already been spayed in preparation for transferring ownership, so there was no hope of using them to breed.”
“That’s terrible.”
“Devon agreed.”
“You must have, too, to take on pets.”
Vincenzo shrugged.
“They live down here?” she asked.
“They will not leave, though they have been given many opportunities to roam the rest of the house. They suffer a version of agoraphobia. The animal psychologist believes it is the result of their trauma during the breakin.”
“You took them to an animal psychologist?” she asked, giving up the fight against loving this complicated man to bits.
If there had ever been a question that he would own her heart completely, there wasn’t one any longer. She was head over heels.
“Devon had the psychologist come here.”
Audrey laughed as she straightened, having made friends with the two ocicats. “Of course he did.”
No wonder Vincenzo didn’t keep any birds down here. Even a contained aviary wouldn’t be safe against these two. “Are the cats the reason you don’t allow your family down here?”
“It is not my entire family. Only my parents.”
“Why keep this place from them?” Vincenzo gave so much to his family, even if he didn’t recognize that fact. “That just seems so out of character for you.”
The look he gave her was hooded. “Do not begin to think you know all that I am. At the most basic, I am ruthless and determined to have my own way.”
“What does that have to do with your parents coming down here?”
“My mother would insist the temperature, which is perfectly modulated for the plant life, be changed, that the air be dehumidified. My father would use this place as a way to impress his playthings.”
“He would bring his other women here? To your home?” Never mind just to the jungle paradise. That was sick—and not in the good way.
“His opportunistic gene is highly developed.”
“You make me happier and happier that we opted out of dinner with your father.”
Vincenzo nodded, but then sighed. “If you become a permanent part of mine and the children’s lives you will have to learn to deal with my parents.”
That tiny little if hurt in ways she didn’t have the emotional stamina to examine right then. “Are the cats safe with the children?” Audrey asked, needing to focus on something other than that two-letter word.
“Spot and Rover are as affectionate as puppies. Devon informs me that both children adore them, though Angilu cannot chase them down like Franca.”
“Devon informs you? You have never brought the children down here?”
Burnished color streaked Vincenzo’s sharp cheekbones. “No.”
“Why not?”
“I did not know how.” Vincenzo’s jaw locked, his tall body going rigid with tension.
The admission had not come easily.
“Enzu, even brilliant billionaire tycoons are not born with an instant manual on how to be a parent.”
“I had practice.”
“How?”
“Pinu. He was ten years younger than me. Frances and Giovannu had no interest in parenting. His nanny was not a warm person. I held him when he cried, fed him, played with him, taught him what I knew of family and life.”
“You were a good brother.” No wonder Vincenzo was so determined to offer Franca and Angilu something more.
Again with the shrug. “But the world looks very different from the eyes of a thirty-six-year-old man than that of a ten-year-old boy. What I felt qualified to do as a child is more daunting than any business venture as an adult.”
She reached up to brush a hand along his jaw and brought her other hand up to his cheek. The familiar touch drew their surroundings in until it was just the two of them. “You are doing fine, Enzu. Franca and Angilu are thriving.”
“Now they are.”
“You cannot change what their life was like with their parents.”
“No, I cannot.” Pain laced his tone and guilt she did not understand dulled his gorgeous blue eyes.
“Enzu, give yourself a break. Do you have any idea how incredible it is that
you turned out so responsible and caring, considering the way you were raised?” Considering just how badly he’d done in the parent gene pool.
He jerked his head away from her, moving back, the openness and relaxation from just moments ago completely gone. “Do not be fooled, Audrey. I do not deserve either accolade.”
“How can you say that?”
“I knew. I knew and I did nothing about it.”
“What did you know?”
“How like our parents Pinu had become, and still I left Franca in his care.”
“She was his child.”
“But at the very least I could have been a more involved part of her life.”
Audrey could not argue that reality, but it wasn’t right for Vincenzo to take it all on himself, either. “You trusted your brother to follow your example, not that of your parents.”
“Why should I have been so blind? He followed their example in every other way.” Vincenzo shook his head, self-disgust lacing every word. “Franca barely knew me when she became my child six months ago. I had only seen Angilu once, right after his birth.”
She could have argued that Vincenzo had been busy earning a living for his entire family, his brother included, but Audrey thought it was more than that. “Maybe you stayed away because you couldn’t stand to see the truth of how your brother had turned out.”
“I am not a child, to hide from the truth.”
“You’re also not perfect, Enzu. No one is.”
“I have no excuse.”
“But you do have reasons and you’re doing your best to make it right.”
“Now that you are here I am making headway.”
“What do you mean?”
“I have gotten to know the children more since you have come into their lives than I did in the first six months they lived in my home.”
Well, that was because they hadn’t actually lived with him. But she didn’t say so. She had a feeling Vincenzo would just make that another guilt implement to flog himself with.
“Come. We cannot change the past and talking it to death is of benefit to no one.”
“Enzu—”
“Your brother will be here soon,” Vincenzo interrupted her. “Do you wish to meet him in your robe, with your hair a tangled mess on your head?”
