Bellissima

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Bellissima Page 8

by Anya Richards


  Chapter Ten

  Nothing shall be hidden between us.

  They were just words, meant to speak to the coming revelation of their physical appearances and passions, she was sure. Yet they struck a chord deep within her and brought a wave of emotion so muddled and intense, her heart leapt and she gasped, a prickle of tears gathering behind her eyes.

  He called her to freedom, to the giving of herself in a way she’d never been asked to, nor wanted to, in her life. It was frightening and exhilarating, and yet, above all else, it was completely and utterly right.

  Suddenly her hands were steadier, and, while her heart raced and stumbled, a sensation of peace drove out the fear that had clutched at her chest.

  Through it all, Sergio watched her silently, waiting with no sign of impatience or annoyance. Indeed his focus on her didn’t waver, and desire continued to flow off him in waves. Once more the knowledge that she, plain Jane Rollins, had attracted this beautiful, exciting man stunned her—and filled her with power.

  All hesitancy fled. Taking a deep breath, she reached down and grasped the fabric of her shift, pulling it up and over her head in one swift movement. Freeing her loosened hair from the garment took a moment and some concentration. As she dropped the chemise to the ground, flipping the swath of hair back over her shoulder with her other hand, she found Sergio’s gaze trained on her breasts. Already furled tight, her nipples contracted farther, began to tingle and almost ache with need.

  Reaching behind her to untie the drawstring of her drawers caused her back to arch, thrusting her chest forward. Sergio’s hissed, indrawn breath made a little smile play about her lips.

  “Potrei guardarti tutto il giorno.” He growled the words, the sweet cadence of the Italian almost lost beneath the roughness of his tone.

  She let go of her drawers, letting them fall to pool around her ankles, raising her eyebrows as she did. “What does that mean?”

  He swallowed, lifting his gaze from its slow, thorough inventory of her charms to meet hers. “I could watch you like this all day. Never take my eyes from you. Eat and drink and breathe you, and in you find all I need to survive.”

  Jane shivered, gooseflesh again rising over her entire body, her heart swelling with another rush of emotion. She shouldn’t believe him, for she knew it was the passion of the moment—and, indeed, Sergio’s passionate nature too—causing him to say such things. Yet she allowed the sentiment to sink into her heart, held it dear, even as she knew she would eventually have to let it go again. Just for now, for these sweet, desire-fraught moments, she would believe and revel in the illusion.

  Bending, aware of the way her breasts swung as she did, Jane unlaced her ankle boots and slipped them off. After setting the footwear aside, she straightened and, locking her gaze on Sergio’s face, stepped free of her drawers, leaving them in a heap on the floor.

  She could feel his gaze touching her skin like a heated caress, saw the tightness of arousal in the sharpened planes and angles of his face. Slowly she bent once more and, first one leg then the other, slid her garters and stockings down, casting them aside.

  Completely naked now, she stood before him and cupped her breasts, offering them to him, displaying herself as he had demanded. Strange to be so aware of her own body, the weight and roundness of the flesh filling her palms, the brush of nipples against the side of her hands. Letting her hands drift lower, she trailed her fingers over her belly, down to her hips and then to her thighs.

  He was statue-still, only his eyes moving, following the path of her hands.

  Filled with joy and power and a need so strong it was near unbearable, Jane turned. Lifting the fall of her hair away from her back, gathering the waist-length strands, she pulled them forward over one shoulder. It was just her imagination, but it was as though she knew wherever he looked by the heat gathering beneath the skin along her spine, over her buttocks, down her legs.

  “Look at me, Jane.”

  Obediently she turned, trembling, awaiting his next demand, but Sergio said nothing more, only began to remove his clothing in turn.

  Her breath hitched, excitement suddenly whipping through her blood with shocking force. He made short work of his jacket, waistcoat and neck cloth, dropped his suspenders, then lifted first one foot, then the other to remove his elastic-side boots. When his shirt came off, Jane forgot how to inhale, how to think.

  As often as she dreamed of seeing Sergio Fontini unclothed, nothing had truly prepared her for the reality. The broad chest was so wonderfully delineated with bands of rippling muscles and highlighted by a soft swath of hair stretching from nipple to nipple and then tapering down to where his hands worked at his fly. His swarthy skin gleamed like the finest satin, making her fingers itch to explore it, experience the contrast of supple covering over the hardness beneath.

  He stepped out of his trousers, began to unlace the drawers beneath, but his erection had already escaped through the slit in the front—stood out, thick and dark, from the linen.

  “Do you see what you do to me, cara?” Pausing in the act of removing his drawers, he curled his fingers around his cock, bending it slightly down. “Do you see how hard I am for you?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, unable to stop looking at him, overwhelmed by emotion and need. Lifting her gaze to his, feeling as though she might drown in the dark passion reflected in his eyes, Jane couldn’t help saying, “Oh, Sergio. How beautiful you are.”

  His eyes widened. Color touched his cheeks, and he shook his head. “Non, sweet Jane. Such words are for you. Bella. Bellissima. Beautiful Jane. Most beautiful of all women.”

  She wanted to tell him she didn’t need flattery, that she knew how plain and nondescript she really was, but something in his tone, in his gaze, stole the words from her throat. His drawers sagged, were pushed impatiently down. Bending, he removed the garment and started on his stockings.

  As she watched him, the urge to make sure he knew she meant what she said, that something in him, Sergio Fontini, had drawn her from the very first, overcame her. It was easier to do when he wasn’t looking at her, when she wasn’t frozen by that glorious, intent stare.

  “You really are beautiful.” It was just a whisper, but he stilled, and she knew he’d heard her. “I thought so from the first moment we met, and the time we’ve spent together, everything I’ve seen of your behavior, has only confirmed that impression.”

  He looked up. His stern expression made her racing heart falter for a moment before resuming its galloping pace. Yet he said nothing, and Jane found she couldn’t stop the spate of words falling from her lips.

  “You have such elegance—not just when you dance but also grace of spirit and character—and are so strong and sure, it is a joy to watch you, to be around you and speak with you.”

  Completely naked now, he rose from his stooped position. The gleam in his eyes and suddenly tender set of his mouth were almost more than she could bear. No one had ever looked at her that way, as though she had, just with her words, given them a gift more precious than any they’d ever had before. With that expression, with each smooth stride that brought him closer, whatever remained of the barriers she had so carefully built around her heart melted away. And yet even this new vulnerability, the upsurge of emotions which could not be suppressed, brought nothing but a deepening of joy.

  For this afternoon, Sergio was hers, and no matter what may come after they left this place, no one could take the memories or the intensity of her happiness away.

  He was directly in front of her now, so close the heat of his body reached out to her, his scent filled her head. Although they were not touching, she shivered, her skin tingling as though his hands glided over her body.

  Reaching out to rest her fingertips against his belly, Jane traced the line of hair above his navel. Sergio shuddered and grasped her hand, stilling the caress before it went any lower.

  “Hai tutto ciò che desidero.” Lifting her hand, he placed it against his chest so the riotous th
ud of his heart echoed into her palm. “You are everything I desire, everything I need.”

  Emboldened, body and soul thrumming in reaction to his words, she stepped closer. “And you are everything I want.” Oh, so true the words, and still so inadequate. Yet she dared go no further, needing the protection of hiding verity behind a disguise of trite love-talk.

  The flare of passion in his eyes almost undid her but there was no opportunity to react, for his arms came around her, pulling her close, and his mouth descended to take hers. Finally she knew the hard press of his body on hers, the strength of his arms, the slide of his skin, so silken-hot, against her shivering flesh. Joy, passion, and an unexpected sensation of being cared for and protected set her aflame.

  He kissed her until she was molten in his arms, his to do with whatever he desired. When his lips traveled to her cheek, then to gently touch her closed eyelids, glided to her temple, all she could do was lean her head back and hold on to his shoulders, using him to stay anchored.

  Mouth close to her ear, he whispered, “I had planned to go slowly, to kiss every inch of your body, tantalize you until you begged for me to take you to release.” He nipped her earlobe as his hands fell to cup her buttocks and effortlessly lift her against his chest. “But I need you too much, cara.”

  She wrapped her legs around his waist, ready for him. So desperately aroused that when his erect flesh slipped through her cleft and bumped her clitoris, Jane cried out, taken to the edge of climax just from that one touch.

  “Sweet Jane, I miei sensi sono pieni di te. You fill my senses.” The tip of his cock pressed at her entrance, stretching the pulsing, tender flesh as it began a slow, thrilling slide into her cunt. “Ahhh…cara mia…Io sono tuo…Il mio cuore è solo tuo…”

  He was completely inside her, filling her so gloriously she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry with the bliss firing through her blood. His growled words—undecipherable but so redolent with passion—took her closer to the threshold of ecstasy. Convulsively tightening her grip on his neck and waist, she held on to him for all she was worth, her inner muscles pulsing in time with her heartbeat.

  With a low groan, Sergio turned, the muscles of his arse rippling under her legs in a smooth, flowing motion. Then he turned again and again, spinning, waltzing, dancing her toward the bed. And Jane’s heart took up the fluid joy of his movements, reveling in the delight of his possession and the erotic sensation of being so intimately connected as they twirled and spun. She was holding him so tightly he was able to slide one hand up her back and into her hair, so as to gently tug her head back. When he buried his lips against her throat, her entire body shuddered and clenched with pleasure.

  And with each graceful spin his cock seemed to lodge even deeper within her, until it felt as though the bond between them could never be sundered. That he had become an indelible, inescapable part of her.

  A final flourish took them to the bed, and Sergio stopped beside it. Only then was she aware of how he panted and could feel the tremors firing through his body.

  “Ho un debole per te,” he said, holding her with both hands, tipping her until first her head and then her back gently touched down on the mattress. Sergio remained standing and yet somehow continued to maintain their intimate, physical connection. “You make me weak with desire.”

  Before she could reply his gaze met hers, his hands gripped her hips and he was moving. Sliding his cock almost all the way out, the slow, heated drag of his flesh through her over-sensitive sheath had her bucking beneath him. He hovered in that position for a second, his eyes gleaming, the slashes of color across his cheeks intensifying until Jane mewled a plea for him to fill her again.

  Then he looked down at where they were joined and groaned, the sound one of almost feral arousal.

  “Bellissima. Oh, sweet Jane, how beautifully we fit together.” He thrust into her, but in a slow, almost drugged movement, watching as his cock disappeared once more. “You are so hot, so wet and tight. So very beautiful.” He raised his gaze to hers, and the passion she saw in his eyes sent a lightning strike through her blood. Grasping her legs, he drew them from around his waist and spread them wide. “Look at us, Jane.”

  Using trembling arms to raise herself, Jane looked down along her body, just as Sergio drew away once more. The muscles of his abdomen rippled, and his hard shaft appeared from between the lips of her cunt, glistening with her juices. It was the most erotic sight she’d ever beheld and she watched, panting, even more desperate for culmination, her arousal spiking with the addition of visual stimulation. Sergio thrust again, faster now, and Jane cried out with pleasure at the sensation and the sight of her body receiving his.

  Over and over again he plunged into her, until he had to hold her thighs apart and she writhed beneath his onslaught. Falling back onto the mattress, her back arching up off the bed, she jerked her hips to meet each thrust, the whirlwind within spinning in a crazed dance toward culmination.

  Then, suddenly, Sergio pulled her legs tight to his side and demanded, “Spend for me, Jane.”

  The change in position and rough command threw her body into a spasm of release. A scream lodged in her throat as Sergio thrust harder, faster, prolonging the maddening, blissful pleasure devastating her body. And he didn’t stop until he had wrung the final, shuddering sigh from her, and her limbs slowly began to relax.

  But there was no time for true relaxation, as she was jerked up into his arms. With his cock still imbedded within her body, Sergio climbed onto the bed, carrying her as he crawled on his knees to the middle of the mattress. Forcing her trembling arms and legs to hold on to him, Jane buried her face in his damp neck, kissing and sucking at his skin, reveling in the harsh sounds of need echoing from his chest.

  Then she was on her back, his face above hers, hard arms bracketing her body, his weight holding her immobile. Despite the force of her orgasm, already her body was pulsing again, aroused by his strength and the fire of want burning in his eyes.

  “I have dreamed of this moment.” The words growled from his throat, and although he was already deep inside her, he pressed closer yet. “Of being buried in your body, of watching you come apart in my arms. La sua bellezza porta via il mio fiato. Your beauty steals my breath, makes me weak with passion.”

  Dipping his head, Sergio claimed her lips, his mouth hard and demanding. Once more Jane lost herself in him, in the wet tangle of their tongues, the pleasurable rasp of his chest hair on her nipples and joy of being completely filled by him—body and soul. When his hips began to move, his cock sliding and plunging in and out, she cried out into his mouth, battered by waves of sublime sensation.

  Sergio tangled one hand into her hair, the other sliding to cover her breast, fingers finding and pinching her nipple. Squirming beneath him, trying to move but unable to, Jane clutched his back. Then she slid her hands down, over the rippling, bunching muscles, to dig her short nails into his gorgeous arse.

  Breaking the kiss, he dragged his lips over her skin, until he could speak against her breast. “Sono in fiamme per ti.” Punctuating the words with a hard suck of first one nipple and then the other. When he lifted his head, Jane fancifully thought she saw sparks deep within his dark eyes. “I am on fire for you.”

  His thrusts grew harder, stronger, and his face tightened, his lips parting in a feral grimace. Oh, how she wanted to watch him as he found release, knowing it was her body, being in her that pushed him past the boundary. Digging her fingers into his heaving muscles, she urged him to go faster, moved her lower body as much as she could, wanting to drive him insane, just as he drove her to erotic madness.

  Arching his body, he reached between them, groaning her name as he did. Then his thumb was sliding into her cleft and pressing down, so each time his cock left and entered her cunt it dragged over her nub.

  The clench of her body, the rush of fire into every vein and sinew made a scream of pleasure break from her lips. Once more she was being flung into the maelstrom but she refuse
d to let it overtake her, resisting, resisting, only letting go when he cried out her name and pulled out of her body to spill his seed over her belly.

  Only then, as spurt after hot spurt covered her stomach and breasts and she’d seen his face contort with ecstasy, did she succumb and join him in bliss.

  Chapter Eleven

  He would have to force her to become his forever.

  There was no doubt in Sergio’s mind. Jane was his, only his, but getting her to admit it, to agree they belonged together, would take more than plying her body with pleasure.

  That he’d done to the very best of his ability as the afternoon progressed, despite knowing in his heart it wouldn’t be enough. There was no part of her body he hadn’t touched, kissed, sucked. No inch of her soft, giving flesh he hadn’t tasted or caressed. And each moment that passed had reconfirmed for him how right it was to be with her, the love inside him growing and expanding until he couldn’t imagine surviving without its sweet, glorious sting.

  After his first release he’d smeared his semen into her flesh, an animalistic desire to mark her making him rub it into her breasts and belly. Instead of remonstrating with him, or looking at him with disgust, Jane had watched his hands work over her flesh, her breath coming faster, her nipples tightening once more beneath his caresses. Unable to help himself, Sergio had ordered her to spread her thighs as wide as she could and used his seed-slick thumb to circle her nub, watching it grow red and erect with arousal. When he’d put her legs over his shoulders and lifted her bottom off the bed to replace his thumb with his mouth, her moan of pleasure had brought him back to hardness instantly.

  Lashing her with his tongue, licking and sucking, holding on to her writhing body, he’d taken her to the edge of release and eased her back from it a number of times. So many, in fact, the most lascivious curses and entreaties issued from his sweet Jane’s lips, and he realized he loved that too. To be able to take her so far beyond her demure persona that she would say things such as, “Bugger you, Sergio. Suck me, you bastard. Make me spend before I die,” was thrilling.

 

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