Billionaires: The Playboy. Carol Marinelli

that Matteo was, the second that Abby nodded her consent he was happily stripping off and turning the heating up to rival Dubai at midday.

      And then he told her that was his intention exactly! ‘Remember that fashion show we had to sit through?’ he reminded. ‘I kept picturing you in all the underwear they were parading. Most uncomfortable half hour of my life...’ He gave her a smile that had her nearly rock on her heels as she knelt on the bed. ‘You were my Dubai fantasy—look how far we’ve come.’

      Clearly they were here for the night.

      He was almost clinical about it.

      It was a very sexy clinic she was in though, Abby thought as Matteo chose a brandy from her minibar and then lay on the bed, naked, his erection lifting off his thigh, and she took her underwear and headed to the bathroom.

      ‘Take some heels with you,’ Matteo called.

      Yes, look how far she’d come! Abby stood in the sexiest underwear in the world and added said heels. She even clipped up her hair and put on some lipstick.

      It was a game to him and that helped Abby—why, she didn’t know, but it just did.

      Maybe because it was about fun, rather than Matteo throwing in sentiments that could never be met by the cold light of day.

      And so she came out of the bathroom and as she did, Matteo remembered the shy, nervous beauty who had walked out of the elevator in a silver dress.

      That woman had gone for good now.

      Abby stepped out and briskly walked the length of the room and then turned.

      Nervous but not shy.

      ‘They walk more with their hips,’ Matteo said and took a sip from his bottle as she crossed the room. ‘That’s better, but more slowly.’

      ‘Are you going to model for me?’ Abby checked, strutting her stuff.

      ‘Any time,’ Matteo agreed and she looked at his erection and that he was playing with himself and her lips pressed together, wondering if she could ever lie there and do the same with him.

      God, it was hot.

      ‘Take off your bra.’

      Even with double velvet her nipples were sticking out, and as she took off her bra he could see the spread of colour on her chest and that her stomach was taut with desire, and he could wait no more.

      ‘Get here.’

      She nearly ran.

      To him.

      Matteo guided her so that she sat on his stomach and he poured the last of the brandy onto his hand and then rubbed it into her breasts.

      ‘The only way to drink brandy.’

      She knelt over him as he made sure there was no brandy left on the left. Abby’s thighs were shaking, her neck was arched. One hand was on her hip as the other went straight for the kill. His hand slid past her exposed clitoris, leaving his thumb there while his fingers burrowed deep inside.

      He changed breast.

      She nearly lost her mind.

      He just worked her as skilfully as she’d tune an engine. It hurt, the nicest hurt, and then he left her swollen, wet, slightly bruised breasts and his free hand started stroking himself again.

      ‘Matteo...’

      ‘I’m not going to.’

      Abby’s head lowered, just to watch them. Who was this woman, in obscene panties and loving it?

      ‘Oh...’ She just moaned as his fingers and thumb seemed to meet in the middle of a wedge of intimate flesh. He stroked her deep on the inside; he exerted pressure on the outside till her stomach seemed to meet her spine.

      And yet, she couldn’t—she let out a sob, borne of desire and frustration, and then felt as if she were choking, because everything in her tightened as Matteo started to come.

      He had felt her tip—thank God, he thought, because it was past the point of no return, but he had never enjoyed himself more in the bedroom. Or anywhere else come to that.

      Abby closed her eyes, regretting that she had no choice but to, because the feel of him hot and pulsing against her was surely a sight to be seen as everything that had been missing spasmed.

      Then she opened her eyes to the lovely sight of him pulling out the last of his come and then stroking it into her and she sank down on him rather than pull back. The intense feelings were better shared and then Abby sat back on her thighs and tried to drag in air.

      Half an hour ago, she had glimpsed what it might be like.

      Now she knew.

      ‘What does it feel like,’ Matteo asked, remembering the power of his own first come.

      ‘Better than sex,’ Abby said as he pulled her down, but to the side of him.

      He knew how to do her right.