CAROL MARINELLI - The Italian's Marriage Bargain

‘It took every ounce of restraint I could muster.’

It had. Closing his eyes for an instant, he remembered holding her, the bliss of her in his arms. He remembered comforting this delicious stranger, the protective feeling she had kindled, and later—when the crying had stopped, when she had curled herself up like a tiny kitten—feeling her hot breath on his hand, the swell of her breasts jutting against him, the tiny grumble as he had tried to move away, one infinitely smooth leg coiling over him, the scent of her, the feel of her. It had taken a super human effort just to lie there, not to respond to the subtle caress of her body. But now, seeing her without make-up, so young, so innocent, he felt the protective feelings that had smouldered, ignite now in a puff. The inevitable sexual awareness of a man and woman sharing a bed magnified. The groomed, sophisticated woman he had first encountered was gone, and in her place was a softer, gentler and infinitely more desirable version.

She could feel the heat of his palm radiating through her robe, pressing into the small of her back, and hazy, half-forgotten memories of the haven she had found last night emerged. The subliminal messages her body had unwittingly sent were more direct now. Her pink tongue bobbed out in a tiny flick to moisten her lips as her pupils dilated, partially eclipsing the golden rays of her amber stare, totality occurring seconds later as the force of his lips against hers obscured everything other than what was here and now.

He made her feel safe.

For the first time in so very long here was a man she could lean on, a man who maybe, just maybe, could make things better. Even if it was only transitory she welcomed the safe haven of his arms, the bliss of oblivion his touch generated. The chance to escape from the world for a while and concentrate on the responses he so easily triggered.

Responses Felicity hadn’t known she was capable of.

As his cool tongue slipped between her softly parted lips, as their breath mingled, there was no question in her mind of holding back, no hope of restraint. She felt as if she were falling, freefalling, her body at the elements’ mercy. But there was no fear, just a delicious feeling of abandonment, of freedom, of escape from the chains that had bound her for so long now. She kissed him back, her tongue moving with his, tasting him, and pressed her body against his as he scooped her up into his arms and carried her effortlessly across the room. She revelled in the strength of the arms that held her, the eyes that adored her.

At the bedside he paused momentarily, those sapphire eyes questioning, his voice thick with lust but laced with concern.

‘You are sure?’

Reason almost stepped in then, sanity almost prevailing. She had never been intimate with a man, but her virginity wasn’t borne of fear, nor some hidden desire to wait for the man of her dreams to come along. Relationships had taken a back seat to exams, to her brother’s ill health, but now here she was, on the brink of discovery, and reason could go to hell. The need to feel him, to be adored by him, to be made love to by him, was overwhelming her. All she wanted was for Luca to lie her down on the bed they had shared, to make her feel every bit the woman she was, to instigate her into the pleasures of her body.

Oh, she was sure.

More sure than she had ever been in her life!

‘Make love to me, Luca.’

The desire in her voice was all the confirmation Luca needed, and he laid her down, his breath coming in heavy gasps as her robe fell open, exposing her body. Her breasts spilled out from the soft white fabric and with a low murmur of approval he knelt over her, capturing one glorious swollen nipple in his lips, tracing the pink of the areola with his tongue as she tore at the buttons on his shirt, wrestled with the zipper of his trousers. She needed his skin against hers, to feel him, see him, all of him, and he registered her need, reluctantly leaving the soft sweetness of her breasts to free himself from the last remnants of his clothes. Turning his attention to her robe, he freed her from this final constraint so there were no barriers between them.

She held him in her hands, marvelling at the strength, and a tiny pocket of fear welled in her throat as he laid her back, slowly parting her legs. The weight of his body above hers was a precursor to the power of his erection. It would hurt, she knew it would hurt, yet she welcomed the pain, welcomed the sting of the first sharp thrust inside her, crying out as he moved deeper, wrapping her legs tightly around his waist, wanting more, more of him, for him to take her higher, deeper.

She could feel herself contract around him, a tight, intimate vice that held him, and the first ripples of her orgasm caught her unaware. The distant pulsing gained in momentum, a flush of heat surged up her breasts, stinging her cheeks, her neck, her ears, then rushed like a mass exodus to her groin. The flickering pulse was more insistent now, each throb a contraction that spasmed her body, feet arching, buttocks lifting. He slipped his hands underneath her, bucking into her, and she dragged him in, each contraction pulling him higher, further inside her, and as he let out a low, guttural groan her body instinctively knew how to respond, moving of its own accord now, drinking from him, sucking him dry, drawing every last precious drop from him, tightening around him as they rode the delicious waves together.

And after, as she lay in his arms, her hair spilling out across his chest, the tempest that had raged was calm. Her body was still tingling from its delicious awakening, and a sigh of contentment whispered from her lips as she revelled in a rare moment of peace and contentment.

Revelled in the solace she had found in his arms.

‘WHAT are you smiling at?’

Closing her eyes for a decadent moment, she basked in the mastery of his touch, scarcely able to believe that one lazy hand gently brushing along the curve of her waist could render her so helpless. Lying beside him, it was easy to smile, easy to know that what had happened was good and right and perfect.

Such a relief to have no regrets.

‘How do you know that I’m smiling?’ she asked, her smile broadening as her words whispered along the soft ebony mat of his chest.