Page 69 of Pietro

"Come for me, Nora."

I shatter screaming his name, my body convulsing around his fingers. Before the tremors stop, he's sliding back into me. We move together, our eyes locked. This position feels deeper, more vulnerable. I see the intensity in his eyes, feel his control slipping with every thrust.

His forehead drops to mine. "You wreck me, woman."

I've had sex before, but never like this. Never with this all-consuming fire that burns through every nerve ending. Never with someone who could shatter me and put me back together in the same breath. I didn't know bodies could do this, feel this, become this.

"Harder," I gasp, nails digging into his shoulders. "Don't hold back."

He snaps his hips with brutal force, his grunts hot against my neck. I feel him swelling inside me, his rhythm faltering. His hand tangles in my hair again.

His roar echoes through the room as he comes, his body shuddering above me. He collapses against my chest, his breath hot on my skin.

CHAPTER TWENTY

PIETRO

Iwake and feel Nora's warm body curled against mine on the bed. Her auburn hair spills across the pillow, those freckles I find so fucking irresistible scattered across her bare shoulders.

For minutes, I just watch her breathe. The rise and fall of her chest. The peaceful expression on her face. So different from how she looks when she's awake. I trace a finger along her collarbone, marveling at how something so simple as touching her skin makes me feel more alive than I have in thirteen years.

Her eyelashes flutter, and her eyes find mine. A slow smile spreads across her face.

"Good morning, Mr. Sartori," she murmurs, voice husky with sleep.

Fuck. The formal address with her naked in my bed sends heat straight to my cock. I want to push her back into the mattress, spread those perfect thighs, and bury myself inside her again. Show her exactly what that proper little greeting does to me.

Instead, I brush my lips against hers.

She stretches like a cat, her body arching in a way that tests every ounce of my control. "What time is it?"

"Almost nine."

"Nine?" She bolts upright, clutching the sheet to her chest. "Shit! I have the Morrison contracts to prepare before the ten-thirty meeting!"

I can't help but laugh at her panic. Even after being thoroughly fucked all night, her mind jumps straight to work.

"Relax. I already texted Liam to reschedule."

She doesn't seem to relax at all. "I don't have any clothes here. My dress is?—"

"In pieces on my office floor," I finish, remembering how I tore it from her body. No regrets. "I'll have Vittoria send someone with clothes for you."

Her teeth worry her bottom lip. "And until then?"

"You can borrow something of mine." I nod toward the closet. "Help yourself."

I watch as she wraps the sheet around herself and pads to my closet, rifling through my shirts. She selects a crisp white button-down and drops the sheet to slip it on.

The sight of her in my shirt, the hem barely covering the curve of her ass, her legs bare—Christ. My cock hardens instantly. She rolls the sleeves up her slender arms, and when she turns to face me, I nearly groan aloud.

"Will this work?" she asks, unaware of the effect she's having.

I sit up, not bothering to hide my arousal. "Come here."

She approaches the bed, and I reach for her, pulling her between my legs. My hands slide up her thighs, under the shirt to cup her ass.

"You have no idea what you do to me," I murmur against her stomach, pushing the shirt up to kiss her skin. "Seeing you in my clothes..."