Postcards From…Verses Brides Babies And Billionaires. Rebecca Winters

in his dark eyes. “Stay still.”

      Oh, dear Lord. A shudder went through her. He pressed a kiss to the inside of both her knees, worked his way up the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs, caressing her with his mouth, the scrape of his teeth. She bit her lip, willing him on.

      She was aching, pulsing for him by the time he got to where she wanted him. Ready to beg. Mouth dry, she watched as he pushed up her dress and tucked it beneath her hip, baring her lacy, black panties. A wisp of nothing—meant to seduce.

      Hand on her thigh, he considered her. Bold. Focused. “You wore these for me?”

      “Yes.”

      A smile tugged at his mouth. “I thought you said you weren’t going to wear lingerie for me.”

      “I said I wouldn’t greet you at the door wearing it.”

      A play of laughter in those dark eyes. “Appreciate the distinction.”

      Shifting his attention back to the job at hand, he lowered his head and caressed her through the silk with one long stroke of his tongue. Her knees buckled. Sinking back on her palms, she braced herself against the wood. Closed her eyes as he stroked her again and again, desensitizing her, she knew, for the pleasure he would give her.

      When she stopped bucking under his tongue, he pressed a kiss to her trembling abdomen, slid his fingers under the edges of the silk and stripped the panties from her. Moving back between her thighs, he spread her wide. Ran his thumb through her cleft. Blood surged from her fingertips to her toes as he examined her flesh.

      “Already wet for me, cara.” He looked up, eyes blazing. “Maybe I should stop.”

      She reached for him. Received a reproachful look as he put her palms back on the wood. “Move them again and I will.”

      She closed her eyes. Felt the heat of his breath before his tongue found the hard nub at the center of her, nudging it with sensual precision. Back and forth, up and down. When her legs started to shake, her voice a low plea, he licked her slowly, deliberately, talking to her as he did it, telling her the taste of her made him hard. Hot.

      Insane for him, at the very edge, she curled her fingers into the wood. He circled her with his finger. Delved inside of her. Her muscles clenched around him, drawing him in. Slowly, relentlessly, he moved his finger in and out of her, another kind of pleasure stirring to life that was deeper. More intense.

      “Look at me.” His husky command brought her eyes fluttering open. Seeing him between her spread legs, pleasuring her, sent her right to the edge. “You want it like this? Or with me inside your beautiful body?”

      She swallowed past the need constricting her throat, the raging hunger he inspired in her. “With you,” she rasped, keeping her hands on the wood. “I want it to be with you.”

      Lorenzo removed his hands from his wife, swung her up in his arms and carried her into the bedroom, working to blank his mind from the emotion pouring through it. But his wife had always cast a spell over him and tonight was no exception, despite his attempts to tell himself going there was unwise.

      He set her down near the bed and moved behind her to lower the zipper of her dress. Pushing it off her shoulders, Alexander’s creation hit the wood floor in a swish of feather-light material.

      Hands on her shoulders, he turned her around. Drank in his wife’s mouthwatering curves. Lushly feminine in all the right places, her breasts were more than a handful, perfectly shaped and high, her delectable hips flaring above long, fantastic legs he wanted wrapped around him so badly, it was all he could do to keep this the leisurely seduction he’d planned.

      Stripping off his shirt and pants, his gaze never left her. Kicking his clothes aside, he snaked an arm around her waist, pulled her to him and plastered her curves against the length of his body. Fingers curving around her jaw, he dropped a lingering kiss on her mouth. Shared with her the essence of their mutual passion until the raw, unvarnished truth of their connection swelled him so hard he thought he might break in two.

      This time when she reached for him, her touch like silk around his throbbing length, he arched into it, desperate for more.

      “That’s it.” His breath was hot against her ear. “I’ve missed your hands on me, mia cara. I crave them.”

      His skin began to burn, tremble, her exploration of his body firing his blood. He closed his eyes, primal sounds leaving the back of his throat as she stroked him to the edge.

      When he could take it no longer, he pushed her hands away, sank his palms into her hips and lifted her onto the bed. The moonlight spilling in the French doors edged across her face, illuminating the beautiful vulnerability he was starting to believe was the truth of her.

      He slid his hands around her back, released the catch of her bra and threw it to the floor. Her full, swollen breasts were a temptation he couldn’t resist. A shudder raked through her as he swept his thumbs across the tips.

      “Like ripe, delectable fruit,” he murmured, lowering his head to her. He took a nipple in his mouth and sucked hard. She gasped, threw back her head and pushed her flesh farther into his mouth. He devoured her, satisfied his hunger. Played her other nipple between his thumb and forefinger while he brought the hard bud to a swollen erectness with his lips and teeth.

      She moaned as he lavished the same attention on her other breast, digging her fingers in his hair. “Please.”

      Her broken plea contracted his insides. He joined her on the bed, shackled his fingers around her ankles and bent them back so she was open to him. Moving between her thighs, he palmed his length, brought himself to her slick entrance and rocked against her so just the tip pushed inside.

      “You want me, cara?”

      She nodded, her big blue eyes glued to his.

      “Tell me how much.”

      “All of you,” she gasped. “I want all of you.”

      Bracing a palm on the bed, he tipped his hips forward and filled her with another inch. “Lorenzo,” she breathed, arching up to meet him, “I need you.”

      A primal satisfaction claimed him. All of those nights since she’d left when no one else would do, when her memory had made a mockery of his libido, were vindicated as she lay begging beneath him, beautiful and oh, so vulnerable. Exactly as he’d wanted her. And yet, as he rocked forward again, her body clenching around him like a hot, silken glove, he would have been delusional to deny he was as affected as she was.

      He leaned forward, slicking his tongue across her bottom lip in an erotic caress that made her clench tighter around him. “There is no going back,” he rasped, “only forward. Tell me you understand that.”

      “Yes.” She arched her hips, eyes glazed. “More.”

      He buried himself inside her with a smooth, powerful stroke. Her gaze met his in an electric, soul-destroying connection. “You feel like heaven, cara. Perfection.”

      Her slick, aroused body absorbed him, stretched to accommodate his length and girth. He gritted his teeth, forced himself to hang on. Fine tremors snaked through her body, her inner muscles rippling around him. He moved inside her then with hard, powerful drives designed to drive her to orgasm. He lacked his usual finesse, but was beyond caring. Her fingers clutched his hips as his big body rode hers, claimed her, found that spot deep inside her that made her moan with pleasure.

      She arched into it, wanting everything he had to give. He braced himself on one arm, slipped the other hand between her legs and found the bundle of nerves at her center. “I can feel you clenching around me,” he murmured, stroking his thumb teasingly over her clitoris. “Like that,” he whispered when she jerked beneath his touch. “And that,” he said as another shiver raked through her. “Come for me, cara.”