Page 29

“Most people call me Francesca.” It is a line I have seen in several movies, usually delivered by men, and I have always wanted to use it.

“Pfffft! Cracking jokes huh?” He teases. Then his arms scoop me against him and he is standing. I squeal in surprise and he laughs, walking us into his bedroom.

Another squeal of surprise escapes as he tosses me onto the mattress. I scoot up the bed to rest my head on one of his pillows and watch as he discards his tie and unbuttons his shirt.

“Oooh private striptease,” I put my arms behind my head and stick my tongue out.

“Ha ha,” he says dryly. “If that dress isn’t on my bedroom floor before I get these pants off, you’ll be in big trouble, Francesca.”

Oh, he likes to play those games, huh?

Tilting my chin and staring down my nose at the stunning male specimen at the end of the bed, I give him my best come-fuck-me eyes and slowly pull my floaty silk dress over my head.

The delicate emerald fabric floats through the air as I fling it at him and he lets it hit him in the face and slide to the ground. He’s too busy staring at my braless body, naked except for a white lace g-string.

Enthralled.

At this moment in time, IknowI have his whole attention. But how exhausting will it be, emotionally and physically, to have to perform like a stripper or a whore for my husband in order to secure his focus for a short while?

Stop thinking, Francesca!

“You just going to stare or are you going to come over here and join me?” My words evoke a confidence I don’t feel. Fake it till you make it, right? It seems to work, as his predatory gaze goes up a notch. He looks like he wants to eat me.

Tugging his pants off, Elio crawls up the bed in just his skin-tight jocks. There is no hiding how turned on he is.

He hovers over me holding himself up on his forearms, his hard cock pressed between my legs. “You know this doesn’t mean I’m in love with you right?”

I haveneverrolled my eyes so hard in my life. “Trust me, babe. I’m only here because it’s been a while and I’m horny.”

Curiosity piqued, he asks, “How long has it been?”

“I’m not a virgin so you can get any creepy purity kinks out of your head right now.”

“How long?” He presses me.

“You first, Casanova.”

“Yesterday. You?”

Unable to control myself I shriek with laughter. He issucha manwhore. “Too long.” I shrug still laughing. Two years. Not since posh Gareth.

“What’s so funny?” He grinds his pelvis into mine to remind me he is still there.

“I’m marrying a manwhore. If I don’t laugh I’ll cry.”

He frowns. “At least I know what I’m doing.”

Sighing, I slip a finger into the waistband of his underwear. “There is that. Can you shut up and fuck me now?”

Needing no further encouragement and with a cocky smile plastered to his face, Elio lowers his face to mine capturing my lips with his. This kiss is more aggressive than earlier and quickly he leaves my mouth to trail kisses down my neck to my breasts.

Pushing himself up he takes a breast in each hand and presses them together. He groans. “These are fuckin’ beautiful. I can’t wait to fuck them.”

He shows his appreciation for them by taking my nipples in his mouth one at a time; sucking them until they are hard. Pulses of electricity shoot into my core when he pulls them with his teeth. Just enough to introduce a little pain to the pleasure.

Elio continues to kiss his way down my body until he is positioned with his shoulders between my legs; shoulders so wide that my legs are forced apart and up towards me as he presses against them. He slides a finger underneath the lace barely concealing my sex and into the wetness between my folds. Making a strangled, tortured sound in response to finding me wet, he withdraws his finger and yanks my underwear down my legs.

For a moment we just look into each other's eyes. There is attraction there, but I’m still distracted by the knowledge that despite being set to marry this guy, he will be off looking for his next conquest the minute he is done with me and I’ll be searching for his sister in every room I walk into.