The Italian’s Runaway Cinderella by Louise Fuller

Author:Louise Fuller
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-12-31T14:30:12+00:00

CHAPTER SIX

SHAKING WITH DESIRE, she shifted against him and he lifted her onto his lap, the movement causing the boat to judder alarmingly. Neither of them cared. Nothing mattered except the touch of his hands, the jagged rush of his breath, the rasp of his stubble against her face.

He was kissing her wet neck now, and then his hands slid over her shoulders, pulling down the sleeves and the straps of her bra, exposing her breasts to the warm, damp air as the boat spun in slow, sweeping circles.

But only for a moment. And then his mouth latched onto the nipple and she felt her body come to life. She arched against him, feeling the hard press of his erection, feeling an answering wetness between her thighs that had nothing to do with the rain.

Breathing out raggedly, she pushed his shirt up from his trousers, tugging at his belt buckle, a grunt of frustration breaking from her lips as her damp fingers slipped against the zip and then finally—thank goodness—finally she freed him.

The feel of him took her breath away. He was so hot and hard. Her fingers trembled against the smooth, pulsing length of him, and then he was pushing aside the scrap of lace between her thighs, and she felt his hand move between them, unerringly finding the taut bud of her clitoris, touching her, caressing her in a way that made her breath clog.

She shuddered, pressing closer, wanting more, needing more, needing the ache inside her to be answered. Her eyelashes fluttered shut and, lifting her hips, she opened her legs, stroking the taut, swollen head of his erection back and forth against the slick heat, a little deeper each time. And then he was pushing inside her.

Someone moaned; she had no idea if it was him or her.

They were clinging to one another as if they were drowning. His hand was clamped against her back, drawing her closer, bodies moving in tandem, their edges blurring.

His pulse was filling her head. Her skin was hot. She was melting into him. Flames were dancing inside her eyelids and she was lost to everything but the heat and the urgency of her desire as she felt him grow inside her, swelling, filling her.

A streak of fire snaked through her and she reared against him, her body tightening on the inside as he thrust upwards, the friction building, hotter and hotter. She took a breath, her pulse beating out a drumroll of need, rocking her hips, chasing the fierce white heat, her pulse quickening as he thrust deeper and harder. And then she jerked against him, her body gripping his tightly, so tightly, her back flexing beneath his hands, muscles spasming in a breathless frenzy of pleasure.

He groaned her name, his body arching, his fingers tightening in her hair, his breath hot against her throat as he slammed into her, shuddering convulsively.

Body twitching, she leaned into him limply, her sweaty skin sticking to his face. His jerky breath was hot

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