Page 28 of From Italy With Love

“Can I move?” I asked.

“Yes, please.”

I pulled back slowly, almost all the way out, and then pushed back in. The friction was exquisite. The drag of my cock against her inner walls, the way her pussy gripped me, the heat and wetness and tightness. I did it again, establishing a slow, steady rhythm, as she moaned beneath me.

“Does it feel good?” I asked, my voice strained.

“Yes,” she gasped. “Yes, it feels... oh God!”

I increased my pace slightly, still careful, still controlled, but the pleasure was building in my spine, in my balls, in every nerve ending.

She felt too good.

Too perfect.

I knew I wouldn’t last long.

I reached between us and found her clit, circling it with my thumb in time with my thrusts, and she cried out, her back arching. Her inner walls clenched around me, and I groaned at the sensation.

“That’s it,” I muttered. “Come for me, baby. I want to feel you come around my cock.”

She did. She came hard, her body convulsing beneath me, her inner walls clenching rhythmically around me, and the sensation was so intense I nearly came with her. I thrust through it, prolonging her pleasure, and when she finally went limp beneath me, I let myself go.

I increased my pace, chasing my own release now. The pleasure built, rising until it was almost painful. The feel of her, so hot and tight and perfect. The sound of her gasping my name, the way her body gripped mine. It was too much. I came with a guttural groan and buried myself deep inside her as my orgasm crashed through me. Wave after wave of pleasure, so intense it bordered on pain, as I felt my cock pulse deep inside her, filling her, marking her as mine.

When it finally subsided, I collapsed on top of her, careful not to crush her, and buried my face in her neck. My heart raced, my body trembling, as I tried to catch my breath.

“Christ,” I muttered against her skin. “Madigan.”

“I know,” she whispered, as her hands stroked my back. “I know. I felt it too.”

I rolled to the side, pulling her with me so she was tucked against my chest, and I held her close. My body still hummed with pleasure, my mind reeling from the intensity of it.

I’d had sex before. But this... this was different.

This mattered.

This was Madigan, and she had given herself to me completely, and I knew with absolute certainty that I would never be the same.

CHAPTER SEVEN

We lay there for a while, tangled together in the sheets, her body pressed against mine, as our breathing slowly returned to normal. The room was quiet except for the sound of our heartbeats and the whisper of skin against skin. I could feel her heart beating against my chest, could feel the warmth of her skin, the softness of her curves molding perfectly against the hard planes of my body. My hand traced lazy patterns on her back, drawing invisible designs across her shoulder blades, down her spine, and I felt her shiver under my touch.

I should have been satisfied.

Should have been sated.

But I wasn’t.

I wanted her again. Already. The need built in my chest, in my groin, in every nerve ending. It was like a fire I couldn’t extinguish, only temporarily banked. I just had her, just buried myself inside her and came harder than I ever had in my life, and I already wanted more. Needed more. It was insatiable, this hunger for her. Frightening in its intensity.

I kissed the top of her head and breathed in the scent of her hair. Floral and something sweeter, something uniquely her I couldn’t name but was already addicted to. My hand slid down her spine, over the curve of her ass, and squeezed gently, possessively, as she made a small sound against my chest. A whimper, or maybe a purr.

“Salvatore,” she murmured, her voice sleepy, satisfied, thick with contentment.

“I want you again,” I growled, my voice rough and raw with need. “I know I should let you rest, should give you time to recover, but Christ, baby, I can’t. I need...” I couldn’t even finish the sentence. Words felt inadequate for what I felt.

She lifted her head and looked at me, her soft winter eyes dark and heavy-lidded, still glazed with pleasure. A slow smile curved her lips, and I felt my cock twitch in response.