Page 401 of Rosetti Family New York

"I know exactly what I want," I breathe.

"Yeah?" His hand slides lower, fingertips tracing patterns on my bare thigh. "Tell me."

"You." The word comes out as a moan when he bites down gently on my pulse point. "I want you."

The confession seems to break something in him. His hands grow more demanding, more possessive, and suddenly I'm on my back with him hovering over me. The morning light catches the gold in his hair, the sharp planes of his face, and he looks like something carved from marble. Beautiful and dangerous and completely focused on me.

"Say it again," he commands, his voice dark with need.

"I want you," I repeat, my voice stronger now. More certain. "I want you to touch me."

"Where?" His fingers trail up my inner thigh, making me shiver. "Here?"

"Yes," I gasp.

"What about here?" His hand skims over my ribs, thumb brushing the underside of my breast through the thin fabric of my nightgown.

"Everywhere," I whisper. "I want you to touch me everywhere."

"Christ, Isabella." His mouth crashes against mine, and this time there's nothing gentle about it. It's claiming, possessive, the kiss of a man who's finally been given permission to take what he wants.

His hands find the hem of my nightgown, sliding it up my body with reverent care. When cool air hits my skin, I shiver, but not from cold. From the heat in his eyes as he looks at me, the way his breath catches when he sees me laid out beneath him.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, his hands skimming over my ribs, my waist, the flare of my hips. "So fucking beautiful."

Every touch sends electricity through my veins, makes me arch toward him like a flower seeking sunlight. When his mouthfollows the path of his hands, I'm lost, drowning in sensation and need and something that feels dangerously close to love.

His lips find my breast, tongue flicking against my nipple, and I cry out, my back arching off the bed. The sensation is overwhelming, too much and not enough all at once.

"You like that?" he asks, his voice rough with satisfaction. "You like when I use my mouth on you?"

"Yes," I breathe, past the point of pride or denial.

"Good. Because I'm going to taste every inch of you." His mouth moves lower, pressing kisses to my stomach, my hip bones, the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. "I'm going to make you come on my tongue until you're shaking and begging for more."

The words should shock me, but instead they send liquid heat pooling between my legs. My hands fist in the sheets as he settles between my thighs, his breath warm against my most intimate places.

"Look at me," he says, his voice rough with command. "I want to see your face when I make you fall apart."

I meet his dark gaze, and the intensity there steals my breath. There's possessiveness, yes, but also something deeper. Something that makes my chest tight with emotion I don't know how to name.

When his mouth finally touches me, I'm gone. Lost in sensation so intense it borders on pain. He works me with his tongue, his lips, his teeth, until I'm writhing beneath him, desperate for release.

"That's it," he murmurs against my skin. "Let me hear you. Let me hear how good I make you feel."

I'm beyond words, beyond thought, beyond anything but the pleasure building inside me like a wildfire. When he slides a finger inside me, then another, I shatter completely. The orgasmtears through me with an intensity that leaves me breathless, shaking, completely undone.

He doesn't stop. Doesn't give me time to recover. Instead, he works me through it, drawing out every last tremor until I'm boneless and gasping.

"You taste like heaven," he says, his voice rough with need as he kisses his way back up my body. "Sweet and perfect and mine."

I can taste myself on his lips when he kisses me, and it's the most erotic thing I've ever experienced. My hands scramble for his boxers, desperate to feel all of him, to give him the same pleasure he's given me.

"Fuck, yes," he groans when I wrap my hand around him. He's hard as steel, hot and heavy in my palm. "Just like that, bella."

I stroke him slowly, watching his face contort with pleasure. The power is intoxicating, knowing I can make this dangerous man fall apart with just my touch.

"I need to be inside you," he says, his voice strained. "Now."