Page 75 of Sweet Prison
A violent shudder racks Massimo’s body. He breaks the kiss but doesn’t move away. Under my palms, his chest rises and falls rapidly as he stares directly into my eyes.
“Zahara.” His voice is rough, and I can practically feel the vibration roll over my skin.
No one ever says my name the way he does. Like there’s so much more behind that word than a simple combination of syllables. And now is no different.
There’s a question in his intonation, the same one I can see in his dark, sultry gaze. He won’t voice it though, because he knows it’s wrong to ask, even though it’s obviously tearing him apart. I can clearly see the signs. The tick in his jaw. The stiffness of his body. His furrowed brow. And his fast, shallow breaths.
“I want you to be my first,” I whisper, letting him hear in my tone everything I never dared to admit.
Massimo’s eyes widen. Elation and anguish war in their inky depths. The conflicting emotions contort his face, but slowly, I see hope win out.
He’s on the brink of giving in. Surrendering to this undeniable pull between us.
My nightgown rides higher on my hips as I wrap my legs around his waist and slide my ass forward. Teetering on the edge of the desk, I let his hardness touch my core. He’s aroused. Because of me.
Tightening my hold, I draw his cock more firmly against me. Wetness pools between my legs the instant I do.
“Is it really that wrong?” I ask while gliding my hand over the stubble on his chin.
“Fuck, angel,” he rasps. His touch leaves my body, hand returning to its twin at the curtain behind my back. “You know it is.”
“No one has to know.”
“I won’t let you be my dirty little secret, Zahara.” Growled words. “You deserve better than that.”
“What I deserve is to make my own choice.” I tilt my face up, bringing our lips into contact. “Please, don’t make me beg.”
Every man has a limit to how much he can bear. The line where sensible thought finally snaps, sending him into absolute delirium. Apparently, mine is Zahara sayingplease.
There’s a tearing sound when the drape in my fist rips off its track and plunges to the floor. I slide my hand over her hip again, then once more along the border of her panties, gliding my palm toward Zahara’s heat. She sucks in a gulp of air and tightens her arms around my neck, panting. I move to press my fingers to her sweet spot.
“You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” I whisper, rubbing the soft scrap of fabric between her thighs. She’s drenched. “What you’ve been doing to me ever since you walked out of that visitors’ room. Almost four years later and I can still hear the sound of that damn door. It shut in your wake with such finality that I felt as if the prison bars slammed around me all over again. But it wasn’t just my body that got locked up in that moment. My fucking heart was caged, as well.”
I push aside the wet part of her panties and stroke her silky folds. The way she clutches my shoulders, holding herself right at the edge of the desk to give me greater access, is driving me directly out of my mind. Unable to resist, my lips graze the sensitive area under her ear. “I devoured every letter you sent. They were my lifeline, but also, the source of my greatest fear. I was terrified for you, baby. And I’ll forever hate myself for putting you in that position. For sending my angel into the depths of the wolves’ den. I will never forgive myself for that.”
“It was my decision.” Her core quivers under my touch, however, her voice remains steady. Determined. “My choice. Don’t you dare diminish it by assuming responsibility for actions that were strictly my own. You can’t take that away from me, Massimo.”
“So fierce. A lamb who turned out to be lupine.” I seize her lower lip with my teeth and bite it. “Do you understand how incredibly remarkable you are, my gutsy little she-wolf?”
She smiles against my mouth. “I learned from the best.”
Giving her pussy another light swipe, I break the kiss and meet her gaze. Her honey-colored orbs watch me intently, inviting me to drown in their depths. They sparkle as if thousands of micro-stars are clustered within, their warmth radiating through me.
“I want to make love with you, Zahara. Want to know your body just as well as I’ve gotten to know your mind. I’m aching, angel. Starving for you, and it would be my honor and my greatest wish to be your first.”
And your only,the deviant voice inside my head growls.You’re mine! No one else can touch what’s mine!
I shove the intruding bastard away and cup Zahara’s face in my hands.
“I’ll lick and I’ll bite each inch of your skin if you’ll allow it. With every caress and every kiss, I’ll brand you as mine. There’s nothing else in this world I want more, but I need to know that you’re ready to do this with me.”
I’m well aware of her self-consciousness about her skin. She’s never so much as breathed a word of it to me, still, I know the worries that circle her mind on the subject. And I, perhaps, can understand better than most that, sometimes, reason flees when faced with fear. I can tell her she’s the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen until I’m blue in the face, yet she wouldn’t believe a word of it. So what I need to do is show her. Through actions, I’ll make her understand just how beautiful she is, how every inch of her is fucking perfection.
Zahara’s lower lip quivers. “I… I’ve never taken my clothes off in front of a man, Massimo. Or anyone, for that matter, in a very long time. I’m not sure I can do it.”
“That’s okay, baby.” I nuzzle her nose with mine. “I’ll just kiss you over your nightie.”
Her eyes are glued to my hands as I reach for the buttons of my shirt she abandoned. Unfastening the next in line, I wait. Gauging her reaction. Even though she started this, I don’t want to assume. “Should I go on?”