through
her, sharp, momentary. He stilled inside her, waited.
“Hush,”
he murmured. “The worst is over now. Relax.” He stroked her face. “Are you
okay, cara ?”
She
nodded. Muscles she hadn’t even known existed clenched around him in protest.
She forced herself to relax as he instructed. Forced herself to breathe.
But
the pain was nothing compared to the sense of victory, of conquest that
uncurled in her. Everything she had known, everything she was, shattered in
that moment, setting her free. She was no longer a girl, but a woman. And she
was his.
For
a long time he held still inside her, letting her body adjust to his. She
breathed through the discomfort, enjoying the slide of his hand over her
breasts until she had relaxed enough. Then he shifted inside her, and a little
ripple of pleasure echoed through her bones, a pleasure that promised more to
come.
He
had been so patient with her, though it seemed the tension in him was only
barely held in check. She wanted him to enjoy this too, to enjoy her.
Cautiously,
she rocked her hips against him, feeling how the movement caused his erection
to rub against her inner walls. His breath stuttered.
“Take
me,” she said.
His
gaze held hers, and the look in his eyes made her feel like a goddess,
desirable, all-powerful, wicked. Raising himself above her, those strong,
muscled arms braced on either side of her shoulders, he thrust into her again,
a slow sensuous glide of skin against skin.
He
moved inside her, building a slow and steady pace, the friction starting waves
of pleasure and pain up through her abdomen, slow at first, and growing faster
with each thrust.
She
arched her back, instinctively forcing him deeper, harder, and he responded,
plunging into her with a gathering wildness that drove them both towards the
edge of reason. This time she knew what to expect when the explosion of feeling
came. She forced her eyes to stay open so she could watch him as he came. His
eyes were blacker than night, darker than sin, and so extraordinarily
beautiful.
Then
she clung to him as his release crashed over him, and through her, his warm
seed erupting into her, and she felt his pleasure as her
own.
Chapter Thirteen
Time
stood still as they lay together on the sun-washed deck, wrapped in each
other’s arms, not talking, content to let their hands explore, to touch and
discover. Infinitely gentle, Stefano kissed her bare breasts, circling the
sensitive nipples with his tongue. The stir of his erection against her leg
sent a swift shaft of desire piercing through her, even though she felt bruised
and aching in places she hadn’t even known existed before today.
A
strange, alien trickle of warmth escaped between her legs.
She
reached out to touch his erection. It was only semi-hard now, growing fuller as
she stroked. He pulled away, grinning, the devilish glint back in his eyes.
“Not so soon, bella . In case someone asks to see them, you will need to
do some sketches. For your … what do you call it … alibi?”
He
climbed down into the cabin to fetch her sketch pad and pencils. Isobel leaned
back on her arms, stretching out her naked body, worshipping the sunlight. She
felt so free, so alive, and so full of possibility.
Not
just a woman now, but something more. Like a new person.
When
he returned, he handed her a damp cloth so she could clean herself up, then she
sat and took the book from him. He lay on his back beside her, his head pillowed
on his arms, eyes closed, though she knew he was not asleep.
“Tell
me about yourself. Have you lived here all your life?” she asked, as her
charcoal pencil began to scratch across the thick paper.
He
spoke without opening his eyes. “I grew up here, but I attended university in
Rome, then I went to the naval academy at Livorno. That’s where I was when the
war started.”
For
a moment, she stopped drawing to look at him. Of course he was old enough to
have seen action. But she hadn’t even considered
her, sharp, momentary. He stilled inside her, waited.
“Hush,”
he murmured. “The worst is over now. Relax.” He stroked her face. “Are you
okay, cara ?”
She
nodded. Muscles she hadn’t even known existed clenched around him in protest.
She forced herself to relax as he instructed. Forced herself to breathe.
But
the pain was nothing compared to the sense of victory, of conquest that
uncurled in her. Everything she had known, everything she was, shattered in
that moment, setting her free. She was no longer a girl, but a woman. And she
was his.
For
a long time he held still inside her, letting her body adjust to his. She
breathed through the discomfort, enjoying the slide of his hand over her
breasts until she had relaxed enough. Then he shifted inside her, and a little
ripple of pleasure echoed through her bones, a pleasure that promised more to
come.
He
had been so patient with her, though it seemed the tension in him was only
barely held in check. She wanted him to enjoy this too, to enjoy her.
Cautiously,
she rocked her hips against him, feeling how the movement caused his erection
to rub against her inner walls. His breath stuttered.
“Take
me,” she said.
His
gaze held hers, and the look in his eyes made her feel like a goddess,
desirable, all-powerful, wicked. Raising himself above her, those strong,
muscled arms braced on either side of her shoulders, he thrust into her again,
a slow sensuous glide of skin against skin.
He
moved inside her, building a slow and steady pace, the friction starting waves
of pleasure and pain up through her abdomen, slow at first, and growing faster
with each thrust.
She
arched her back, instinctively forcing him deeper, harder, and he responded,
plunging into her with a gathering wildness that drove them both towards the
edge of reason. This time she knew what to expect when the explosion of feeling
came. She forced her eyes to stay open so she could watch him as he came. His
eyes were blacker than night, darker than sin, and so extraordinarily
beautiful.
Then
she clung to him as his release crashed over him, and through her, his warm
seed erupting into her, and she felt his pleasure as her
own.
Chapter Thirteen
Time
stood still as they lay together on the sun-washed deck, wrapped in each
other’s arms, not talking, content to let their hands explore, to touch and
discover. Infinitely gentle, Stefano kissed her bare breasts, circling the
sensitive nipples with his tongue. The stir of his erection against her leg
sent a swift shaft of desire piercing through her, even though she felt bruised
and aching in places she hadn’t even known existed before today.
A
strange, alien trickle of warmth escaped between her legs.
She
reached out to touch his erection. It was only semi-hard now, growing fuller as
she stroked. He pulled away, grinning, the devilish glint back in his eyes.
“Not so soon, bella . In case someone asks to see them, you will need to
do some sketches. For your … what do you call it … alibi?”
He
climbed down into the cabin to fetch her sketch pad and pencils. Isobel leaned
back on her arms, stretching out her naked body, worshipping the sunlight. She
felt so free, so alive, and so full of possibility.
Not
just a woman now, but something more. Like a new person.
When
he returned, he handed her a damp cloth so she could clean herself up, then she
sat and took the book from him. He lay on his back beside her, his head pillowed
on his arms, eyes closed, though she knew he was not asleep.
“Tell
me about yourself. Have you lived here all your life?” she asked, as her
charcoal pencil began to scratch across the thick paper.
He
spoke without opening his eyes. “I grew up here, but I attended university in
Rome, then I went to the naval academy at Livorno. That’s where I was when the
war started.”
For
a moment, she stopped drawing to look at him. Of course he was old enough to
have seen action. But she hadn’t even considered
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