Melanie Milburne - The Italian's Mistress

by The Italian's Mistress (lit)

  He broke the kiss to stand up and remove his clothes, his eyes never leaving hers. She watched him as he tossed his shirt aside and heeled himself out of his shoes before reach­ing for his belt. Her eyes widened as he stepped out of his trousers, the black undershorts stretched by the thickened male flesh.

  He tore the sheet off the bed with one intensely masculine movement of his hand. ‘You make me mad with desire,’ he growled as he came down over her. ‘I want to bury myself inside you.’

  She sucked in a ragged little breath as he nudged her thighs apart, her inner flesh tingling with anticipation of the urgent glide of his body within hers.

  ‘Tell me to slow down,’ he groaned against her mouth. ‘I don’t want you to slow down.’

  ‘I will hurt you.’

  ‘You won’t hurt me,’ she gasped as he thrust into her deeply.

  He moved within her urgently, carrying her along with him on a raging tide of spiralling desire, his guttural groans of need like music to her ears.

  With every surge of his body she felt herself move closer to the highest point of rapture, the entire surface of her skin lifting in tiny goosebumps as each muscle in her body tensed for the final flight into paradise.

  She arched her back beneath him, unable to contain the torrent of urgency as it clawed at her to be assuaged. She clutched handfuls of the sheets either side of her, desperate for an anchor in the raging sea of want that was sweeping her away.

  He drove her on relentlessly, his breathing hectic, his body slick with fine beads of perspiration as he urged her on.

  She felt him fighting for control, felt the tight clench of muscles and the slight decrease in pace as he brought him­ self back from the brink in an effort to stall his pleasure in order for her to take hers.

  She felt herself tipping over the edge in an explosion of sensation, making her feel as if her body had shattered into a thousand tiny pieces, each one free-falling into space, leaving her spent in the tight embrace of his arms.

  He gave one last deep groan, his expression above hers contorted with pleasure as he emptied himself, sending af­tershocks of delight through her still quivering flesh.

  His weight was a blessed burden as he sank with relax­ation against her, his head buried into her neck, his breathing still hurried.

  She lay in the circle of his arms without moving or speak­ing, content to feel his warm presence still within her as if he didn’t want to break the intimate contact.

  She stroked the smooth skin of his back, her fingers mov­ing over the contours of his muscles as if committing them to memory, her thoughts drifting forwards to a time when perhaps memory would be all she would have of him.

  The fire of his passion would surely burn itself out and where would she be then? He would secure custody of any children they had, including Sammy, leaving her to a life­time of lost hopes. Her love for him wasn’t a currency he’d be interested in, even if she were to offer it to him. His primary motivation had been revenge for the hurt she’d caused him in the past. But she mustn’t let him know just how very successful his plan for revenge had turned out.

  She felt him stirring, his weight shifting as he leaned on his elbows to look down at her.

  ‘You look pensive,’ he said, brushing a strand of hair off her cheek. ‘What are you thinking about?’

  ‘Nothing much.’

  ‘Are you thinking about Carlo?’

  She tensed at the seemingly casual question. ‘No, of course not.’

  ‘Do you ever think about him?’

  ‘I try not to.’

  ‘He’s the father of your child.’

  ‘I don’t think of him in that way.’

  ‘What way do you think of him?’ he asked.

  She felt uncomfortable under his intense scrutiny. ‘I don’t want to talk about Carlo.’

  ‘You still care for him, don’t you?’

  ‘Don’t be so ridiculous.’ She tried to roll away but he held her beneath him with a strength and purpose that un­nerved her.

  ‘Your passionate response to me is a clue, you know,’ he said. ‘You hate me but you suffer my touch by pretending I’m my brother.’

  She gaped at him in shock and outrage. ‘I do no such thing!’

  ‘How can I believe you?’ he asked. ‘You went from my arms to his. How else can I explain it?’

  ‘I don’t wish to continue this discussion,’ she bit out and tried to free herself again to no avail. ‘Let me go, Lucio.’

  His rumble of amused laughter was her final undoing.

  She freed one hand and swung it at his face with all the force she could put behind it but somehow he avoided it.

  ‘I overlooked the hammer but this I will not excuse,’ he said.

  ‘You asked for it!’ She glared at him.

  ‘I will not tolerate violence from you.’

  ‘What are you going to do about it?’ she threw at him challengingly.

  His dark eyes speared hers as the silence lay thick and heavy between them, the intimate throb of his body still encased in hers reminding her of the very uneven playing field she was on.

  ‘Would you like to take a wild guess?’ he asked with a subtle movement of his lower body.

  ‘No...’ she croaked, her spine weakening and her legs going to mush.

  ‘Then perhaps I should show you instead,’ he said and lowered his mouth to hers.

  CHAPTER NINE

  ANNA woke during the night to find herself in the warm embrace of Lucio’s arms, her back curled into his stomach, his masculine hair tickling the sensitive skin of her bottom.

  ‘Can’t you sleep?’ he rumbled near her ear as one of his hands glided from her waist to cup her breast.

  ‘I...I was asleep,’ she said, tensing as his growing erec­tion came between her legs. ‘But something woke me.’

  He nuzzled on her earlobe and she gave a little shiver of reaction.

  ‘Are you cold?’ he asked.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Do you need anything?’

  Only you, she said silently. ‘No.’

  ‘Go to sleep, Anna.’ He pulled her up close, one of his hands on her stomach, the other still on her breast.

  ‘I can’t sleep with you touching me like that,’ she said after a restless pause.

  His hands fell away as he rolled away to the other side of the bed. ‘Goodnight, Anna.’

  She listened to the sound of his breathing for endless minutes. ‘Lucio?’

  ‘Mmm?’

  She turned her head to look at him but his back was still towards her. ‘Are you asleep?’ she whispered.

  ‘I was asleep,’ he mumbled into his pillow, ‘but someone just woke me.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  She heard the bedclothes rustle as he reached for the bed­side lamp, the soft light casting his tanned body into a golden glow. He turned to face her, the sheet slipping to reveal the dark arrow of masculine hair from his navel downwards. ‘What’s on your mind?’ he asked.

  ‘Nothing.’ She lowered her gaze.

  ‘Are you worried about Sammy?’

  She felt ashamed to admit she hadn’t once thought of her son; her mind had been too full of Lucio.

  ‘No, I know he’ll be fine. He never usually wakes at night.’

  ‘Then what’s troubling you?’

  She took a shaky breath and met his eyes. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you properly for what you did for Sammy.’

  He gave his pillow a soft punch and lay his head back down. ‘Couldn’t you have waited until morning to thank me?’

  ‘No ...I wanted to do it now.’

  He turned his head to the bedside clock. ‘It’s four a.m., Anna. I won’t even remember what you say.’

  ‘I still need to say it even if you don’t remember it.’ He shut his eyes and sighed. ‘Say it if you must.’ She stared at his still figure for a moment. ‘Lucio?T ‘Mmm?’ He opened one eye as he turned his head on the pillow.

  ‘Thank you.’
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  ‘My pleasure. Now go to sleep.’

  He reached for the bedside lamp but she counteracted the movement of his arm with a restraining hand on his wrist.

  ‘What it is now?’ he asked.

  ‘Thank you for the beautiful clothes you bought Jenny.’

  ‘It was nothing, now—’

  ‘And the toys you bought for Sammy.’

  ‘He deserves them. Now will you please be quiet and go to sleep before I lose my temper?’

  ‘Sorry.’ She flung herself to the other side of the bed and turned her back. The lamp clicked off and she shut her eyes against the tears behind her lashes. Lucio lay staring at the dancing shadows on the ceiling for a full minute. He swore as he jack-knifed upwards to turn on the lamp again. ‘Why are you crying?’

  ‘I’m not crying,’ she sobbed.

  He got out of his side of the bed and came around to where she was buried under the bedclothes.

  ‘Come out from under there and tell me what’s going on.’

  ‘I don’t want to come out.’

  ‘You’ll suffocate under there.’

  ‘What would you care?’ she said sniffing. ‘Do you have life insurance?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then don’t do anything drastic until we organise some for you.’

  She poked her head out to glare at him. ‘You have a sick sense of humour, do you know that?’

  ‘It gets me by.’

  ‘How can you be so flippant?’

  ‘How can you be so serious all the time?’ he shot back. ‘I’ve never met anyone as strung up as you.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be so strung up if you hadn’t taken over my life!’

  ‘Is this about our impending marriage?’ he asked.

  ‘You don’t really want to marry me,’ she said.

  ‘I have every intention of doing so.’

  ‘But for all the wrong reasons!’

  ‘You have only yourself to blame if my reasons for mar­rying you are not the same as those of four years ago.’

  ‘Here we go again.’ She sprang to her feet and flounced to the other side of the room, dragging the sheet with her to cover her nakedness. ‘You just can’t let it be, can you? Every chance you get you rub my nose in it again. Can’t you see how our marriage has no hope? You won’t be able to stop yourself from chipping away at me until there’s nothing left.’

  ‘I will make you a promise.’

  ‘I can just imagine how long you’ll keep it.’

  ‘I will not mention what happened between you and Carlo again.’

  ‘You expect me to believe you’ll hold true to that?’

  ‘You have my word.’

  She held his look for as long as she could. ‘I wish I could believe you.’

  ‘Believe me, Anna. I will not mention it again. It quite clearly causes you distress and it serves no purpose. You appear to be genuinely sorry for what happened.’

  ‘How very insightful of you.’

  ‘The subject is now closed.’

  ‘Until the next time,’ she muttered under her breath.

  ‘I mean it, Anna. Now, come back to bed; your eyes are like an owl’s. You are like an overtired child who has been allowed to stay up too late.’

  She sighed in defeat and came back to the bed. Lucio took the sheet from her and roughly remade the bed before turning back to her. ‘Now, in you get and no more talking. We have a big day tomorrow with Sammy coming home and it won’t help things if we are both hollow-eyed and tetchy.’

  Anna slipped into her side of the bed as Lucio went to his. She felt the depression of the mattress as he lay down, every skin cell of her body crying out for his touch.

  ‘Go to sleep, Anna,’ he said softly.

  She turned over and shut her eyes but she felt restless and on edge and opened them again. Her legs felt twitchy and her hands ached to reach out to the long, silent figure beside her. She wanted to feel the silk of his skin along his back, to scrape her fingers over his chest hair, to feel the hard, flat male nipples, to let her hand slip lower and lower until she came to his...

  The lamp clicked on, startling her out of her sensual rev­erie.

  ‘Dio!’ Lucio swore.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked, turning to look at him.

  His eyes were lustrous with desire as he reached for her, pulling her roughly into his arms, his long legs wrapping around hers.

  ‘You are driving me crazy, cara,’ he growled deep in his throat.

  ‘I...I am?’ She blinked at him.

  ‘You know you are.’ His mouth touched the corner of hers. ‘I can’t lie next to you without touching you.’

  ‘I didn’t mean to disturb you.’ She traced a circle around his right nipple with the tip of her index finger.

  ‘Did you not?’ His mouth tilted in a sensuous smile.

  ‘No...’

  He pressed her down and came over her with his weight, his mouth just above hers. ‘You disturb me a very great deal, Anna.’

  ‘I do?’

  He moved against her and she gasped at the hard ridge of his arousal seeking her body’s warmth.

  ‘See how much you disturb me?’ he said, driving himself forward into her moistness.

  ‘Oh ...Oh...’ She bit down on her lip, her fingers digging into his shoulders to hold herself steady under the passionate onslaught of his powerful body.

  She was slipping into a sea of sensuality, waves rolling over her as she rode the tide of longing that rose in her fevered blood. She couldn’t hold back, couldn’t stem the rush of feeling that charged through her with every deep stroke of his maleness within her. Her inner body tightened around him while her limbs went to jelly and her spine loosened with the ache of pressing need.

  His hungry mouth fed on hers, the stab and withdrawal movements of his tongue mimicking the movement of his body in the tight cocoon of hers. She could feel his struggle to maintain control and it secretly delighted her. The sense of feminine power was overwhelming to her-he wanted her even though he had cut her from his life all those years ago. His bitterness over her past betrayal was secondary to his all-consuming need of her. She felt that driving need as he increased his pace, sweeping her along with it in a mael­strom of wild feelings-wild, out of control and desperate feelings of insatiable desire.

  She was spinning inside her head, a million sparks ex­ploding in her brain as he drove her to paradise with his body and his hands, leaving her shaking and shuddering beneath his masterful touch.

  She was still floating as he expelled himself, his weight collapsing on her as the relaxation of his release stole the strength from his limbs. His chest rose and fell against hers, the fine sheen of sweat between their bodies like satin, and the soft scent of their lovemaking in the air like an intoxi­cating drug. Anna felt her eyelids drifting down, her body totally relaxed in his warm embrace.

  Lucio lifted his head a few minutes later and looked down at her lying at ease in his arms, her legs still entwined with his, her body holding him intimately, damply...sexily...

  The sigh he gave hitched in his throat before travelling down to his belly, feeling more like a pain than a movement of air.

  He picked up a loose strand of her hair off her face and tucked it gently behind the shell of her left ear before low­ering his mouth to the soft bow of hers, pressing a barely there kiss on her lips.

  She sighed and murmured his name. ‘Lucio?’

  ‘Yes, Anna?’ he breathed.

  She gave another childlike sigh and snuggled her head sideways into the pillow. ‘Nothing.. just Lucio...’

  A small, rueful smile lifted the edges of his mouth as he watched the soft rise and fall of her breathing. She was finally asleep after keeping him awake for hours and, tired as he was, he knew with her lying like that in his arms, sleep for him was now even further away.

  Sammy was full of high spirits as soon as he came home from hospital, determined to play with every toy Lucio had bought for him. Anna had to put th
e brakes on him more than once, terrified he’d undo all the good Dr Frentalle had done but fortunately he survived till nightfall when he fell into an exhausted but contented sleep.

  Anna had not long tucked him in when Lucio appeared in the doorway of Sammy’s room. ‘Out for the count?’ he asked.

  She nodded and, joining him at the door, gently pulled it half shut behind her. ‘He was full of beans but by teatime he started to flag, thank goodness.’

  He fell into step with her as they made their way down­stairs. ‘Jenny had a good day at the office,’ he informed her. ‘She was very efficient, or so my secretary said. Did heaps of filing for her and ran some errands.’

  Anna smiled. ‘Jenny told me she had a great day. Thank you for giving her the opportunity.’

  He shrugged off her thanks and shouldered open the lounge door, indicating for her to precede him. ‘She loved it so much she decided to stay here and work while we go to Italy.’

  She turned to look at him, her expression worried. ‘Are you sure that’s wise? She’s only nineteen and—’

  ‘She’ll be fine; anyway, Rosa will be here to take care of the house and any of her needs.’

  ‘But what if she needs me or—’

  Lucio pressed the tip of one finger against her lips to stall her protest. ‘Anna, you are her sister, not her mother. She is well and truly old enough to spend a month here with my housekeeper. Now, sit down and tell me all about your day while I organise us both a drink.’

  Anna sat and filled him in on Sammy’s antics, relieved she had something to talk about other than their relationship and impending marriage. She even discussed the weather at one point rather than mention their future, even though it loomed large in her tortured mind.

  Four years ago marriage to Lucio had been her most joy­ful dream, their love and mutual passion promising them a blissful life together. Her night of betrayal had destroyed that dream, but now four years on he wanted her to marry him in spite of it.

  If she didn’t still love him, her choice would have been so much easier, but her love bound her to him as firmly as any golden band.

  His obvious attachment to Sammy was of immense com­fort to her. It showed her what sort of man he really was, that he could put aside his own prejudice and bitterness and relate to her little son for the endearing toddler he was and not just as the bastard child of his brother.