in the thick gloss of her hair. And then he began to kiss her again, until she was soft and melting. He kissed her until her knees started to buckle and her hips began to make their own restless little circling against the formidable hardness of him. And still he kissed her, ignoring the growing clamour of her muffled little pleas for more. Until all her inhibitions had dissolved and she had begun to pluck impatiently at the belt of his trousers.
And only then did he smile, slip his fingers down the front of her panties and touch her with such unerring precision that she gave a loud gasp.
‘Ah, sì,’ he said softly, moving against her sweet heat. ‘Now you are ready for love.’
Her blurred and hungry senses agreed, but his words sent questions dashing round her head. Love? Did this really have anything to do with love? wondered Jessica dazedly as he picked her up and carried her over to the bed. No, of course it didn’t. Love was a word used to sweeten the act of sex.
She lay and watched him, as clearly he intended her to do. A slow and erotic striptease performed just for her benefit. His hand moved to his belt, and then his zip. He was pulling off his shoes, his socks, his trousers. He was stepping out of dark boxers with lazy elegance and he was aroused. Very aroused.
Their eyes met in one long moment and in that moment Jessica decided that nerves were no longer going to freeze her, because what would be the point of that? She was here and she was damned well going to enjoy every second of it. Every second of him.
‘C-come to bed,’ she said shakily.
He laughed softly as he joined her on the bed and she reached for him.
‘You are hungry for me, little one?’
‘I’m absolutely starving, if you must know!’
‘Well, then—come here.’ With one slick movement he removed her bra, then turned his attention to her naked breasts, first with his eyes and then letting his lips roam over their hard pink tips. He licked her, felt her shiver. ‘Mmm. You taste of honey, and desire. You taste good.’
And his words made her feel good—so good that she wanted to throw inhibition to the wind. Shyly, she reached down to stroke him, feeling him jerk beneath her hand.
For one second, Salvatore stilled as something in her tentative gesture made a warning bell sound deep in his subconscious. He laid one hand over the fingers which lay so intimately over his flesh, mentally gearing himself up for a scenario which had only just occurred to him. And wondering how he could have been so stupid. For had not one of his beloved cousins been trapped by a woman in such a way?
‘Please tell me you are not a virgin?’ he demanded, his voice suddenly harsh.
Jessica didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Did that mean he equated her fumbling with a complete lack of experience? ‘No, of course I’m not. Would it matter if I was?’
He took his hand away and moved over her, stroking her hair away from her face. ‘Of course it would matter! But it is not important. Not now. Only this matters. This … ’
And he blocked all words and thoughts with his lips. For a moment Jessica struggled against the wall of pleasure which was beginning to build, her thoughts uneasy as something in his attitude troubled her, though she wasn’t quite sure what.
Quickly concern gave way to pleasure—how could it not, when Salvatore was the most wonderful lover imaginable? He kissed every inch of her body, she had never known that a man could find so much delight in the discovery of flesh alone.
‘You like that?’ he questioned silkily as his tongue found a particularly vulnerable area.
‘I …’ Jessica shut her eyes and shuddered. ‘I … ’
‘Tell me,’ he urged.
‘No one has ever done that to me before,’ she breathed.
‘And this?’
‘Oh, Salvatore,’ she whispered. ‘Yes.’
He took her along familiar pathways of delight and to his astonishment discovered that, for him, she was the perfect lover. So it was not a sham after all. She was not a virgin, but neither was she particularly accomplished. Inexperienced but not innocent—perfetto.
But she was also very sweet. Too sweet really, he thought wryly, as she pulled his head towards her and showered him with tiny kisses which made him tingle with delight. Did she not know that a woman should always hold something back in order to completely entrance a man?
‘Jessica,’ he said, in a voice which was suddenly unsteady, and he could wait no longer, he reached for protection as she writhed beneath him.
‘Yes, now,’ she whispered. ‘Now.’
‘Then damned well keep still for a minute!’
‘I c-can’t.’
‘Neither can I,’ he groaned as he thrust into her. ‘Mia tesoro.’
It was amazing. She was amazing—and he couldn’t work out why. Was it her eagerness to please him? Her breathless pleasure as she worked out what made him moan with delight? Or her sheer joy when the first orgasm rocked her small, curvy body and she clung to him, choking out her pleasure and a few broken syllables which sounded a bit like his name?
Afterwards, Salvatore collapsed back against the disarray of pillows, his skin sweat-sheened, his heart racing like a piston as he stared at the ceiling, gasping for breath, like a man who had been pulled out of the water just before he drowned.
And Jessica snuggled up to him, resting her silky head in the crook of his arm as if that was the place she most wanted to be.
‘Mmm,’ she sighed. ‘That was … bliss.’
A habitual post-lovemaking wariness began to creep over him. He was going to have to be very honest with her about the limitations of an affair with him—but surely she was sensible enough to recognise that there could be no future in this?
‘Mmm.’ He yawned, and edged away from her very fractionally. ‘I’m hungry now, aren’t you?’
She wanted to say, Not for food, I’m not—the way she would have done a few minutes ago, when they were making love and she seemed to have been given the most delicious freedom to indulge and tell him about every single one of her secret fantasies.
But something had changed—she could tell. Salvatore had withdrawn from her in more ways than one. It was true that in this bizarre situation she was probably being acutely sensitive, but it was quite clear that his mood towards her had changed, become cooler. What happened now—was she expected to get dressed and just go home?
‘Shall I go and get us something to eat?’ he questioned lazily.
And Jessica hated herself for the overwhelming sense of relief she felt that she wasn’t to be dismissed like a servant. Hated herself even more for just accepting it—for allowing Salvatore to dictate the terms of what happened next.
But how could she do otherwise when she felt so blissfully alive in his arms—as if up until that moment her life had seemed without direction and the whole reason for being born had just been made clear to her?
‘Yes, please,’ she said, forcing herself down from the clouds. She’d barely touched a thing all weekend. She’d been to visit her grandmother, who had asked her if she was sickening for something when Jessica had done the unheard of and refused a slice of her famous lemon drizzle cake. But what could she have said to the much-loved woman who had brought her up after the death of her parents? No, I’ve lost my appetite because I think I’m going to end up in bed with my boss on Tuesday. Wouldn’t that go against everything she’d been taught?
He flicked her an amused glance as he climbed out of bed, gloriously and goldenly assured in his nakedness. ‘Thank heavens for that,’ he murmured. ‘A little loss of appetite in the restaurant was understandable—but I can’t bear