Italian Kisses: A Billionaire Love Story Part 8

"There's somewhere else I want to take you," he said, "It's close by."

Where could he possibly want to go now, with how we both felt? I loved seeing the city with him, but I knew both our minds were elsewhere.

"Where? The Sistine Chapel?" I said, feeling those devil horns start sprouting from my forehead at the sacrilege of mentioning a holy place like that when I felt this way.

"No more sightseeing," he said, still holding me close. He traced the tip of his thumb along my jaw line, starting under my ear and ending at my chin so he could tilt my head back for another stolen kiss.

"But there's still so much left to see. You started me on this ride, now you're telling me to get off?"

"You're stubborn. It's cute. Let me say this in a way I know you'll appreciate: Rome wasn't built in a day; you can take more than one to see it."

"So if we're not sightseeing, where are you taking me?"

Now it was his turn to turn devilish, flas.h.i.+ng a grin at me that would have a whole convent of nuns flus.h.i.+ng and fanning themselves. "Come with me and find out."

Chapter 7.

He took me back to the hotel, driving Italian-style. Lots of revving, honking at traffic lights. Almost reckless. However, he never seemed to lose control.

I don't know how he managed that. Once I realized where we were headed, my skin broke out in gooseb.u.mps. The furnace inside me cranked up the heat. I trembled, inside and out.

We tore through the hallway. He picked me up and slammed me against the wall next to the door to his room, even as I wrapped my legs around his waist and squeezed him against me.

"I need you," I said.

"I know."

It was an infuriating reply. Infuriating, and arousing. He turned his head to get a better look at the lock on the door, so I took the opportunity to show my impatience. I sucked his earlobe in between my teeth and bit down on it. Lightly. At first, anyway.

He sucked in a breath through his teeth, and his body went rigid against mine at the sharpness of the sensation.

Somehow, he managed to get his key card out and tap it to the lock. The electronic mechanism shot out and he kicked the door open.

We were inside, in the shadows of the entrance hall. He shoved me back against the closed door, one hand squeezing my a.s.s hard enough for me to hiss.

"The bedroom..." I said. I begged.

"Too far."

There was a long, thin desk against one wall. It had a Tiffany lamp on it as well as a few hollow ceramic busts meant for keys and other sundries. He swept them all off with one arm.

The clattering smash of the items on the floor thrilled me, and I nuzzled at his neck.

He set me down on the edge. Then he tore my s.h.i.+rt off, then his own. The shadows filled all the little crevices between individual abdominal muscles. Seeing the way they tensed left my thighs steaming.

Then it was my turn to tear. I ripped his belt out of the loops and threw it down the hall. I saw the way he bulged for me, and that put me over the edge. The seconds it took to wrench his khakis open was an infinity.

But then I held him. He was hot, so hot. And he swelled and hardened and throbbed in my grip. The more I touched him, the harder he became for me. My body responded to his, also throbbing, flus.h.i.+ng with heat, opening for him. Waiting for him.

"Emma..." he groaned, his eye squeezing shut and his head rolling back on his shoulders.

Unable to take it any longer, he shoved me back so that he could grip the waistband of my pants and panties at the same time. He peeled them off me, the touch of the cool air on my bared skin exhilarating.

Then he pulled a condom out of his pocket.

"Was that there the whole day?" I asked.

He shrugged his s.e.xy, broad shoulders, my eyes following the way his toned muscles moved beneath his skin. "Be prepared for anything. That's my motto." His eyes twinkled with mischief and desire, and I noticed the way his pulse pounded in his throat.

Another hot tingle ran through me. "So show me what you were prepared to do."

He tore the foil wrapper and I watched him roll the condom down his rigid, trembling length. The throbbing heat between my thighs intensified. If he didn't take me soon, I'd spontaneously combust.

His desire rivalled mine, though. He pulled me closer, my a.s.s hanging off the edge of the desk. I groaned his name when he b.u.mped against me, found my opening, and parted my flesh around his.

I needed him so badly. I needed all of him. Right Now!

I slid my hands down the taper of his waist, revelling in the heat of his skin on my palms. I slid them down until I cupped his incredibly taut and firm a.s.s. Just touching him there had me trembling and clenching inside. Then I pulled him forward, forced him deeper. He didn't resist. He bared his teeth as I took all of him, the hunger inside of me nearly insatiable.

He kissed me, then, his lips brus.h.i.+ng mine and then sliding along my jaw line until I could feel the heat of his breath against my ear. "You're warm, Emma. So warm."

I loved the way he felt inside of me, the way he filled me so totally, and the way it felt so right that we be together like this.

With one quick motion of his fingers, he undid the clasp of my bra. He snaked a finger in between the cups and pulled it down, revealing more of my flesh for him.

Before it even hit the floor, he squeezed me and ma.s.saged me, fascinated by the way he aroused me, the way my nipples perked and stood erect for him.

He pinched one, the sudden jolt of sharp pain making me hiss. I relished it, that delicious mixture of pain and pleasure.

And then he started thrusting, hard and confident. My body couldn't resist. I came for him quickly, like it was my first time feeling these things.

"I love the way you feel when you come for me, Emma," he said. Then he kissed me. We went so hard that the desk kept slamming into the wall. I was sure some concierge would be coming to the door telling us to keep it down for the other guests. But no one did.

It was only the two of us.

Almost as soon as I descended from my first climax I started climbing into a second. I grabbed his bulging biceps and squeezed them, mimicking other parts of my body. My nails pushed into his skin so hard that they left little pale dimples where I'd driven the blood away.

My back arched and my body s.h.i.+vered, every muscle going rigid, gooseflesh bursting out across my skin as I crested the top of that second climax.

"G.o.d, Liam...!" I groaned. Concentration and pleasure mixed together on his handsome face, and he didn't slow down.

I couldn't take much more of this. Much more of him. It was too much, too good. Beads of sweat glistened on both of our bodies, trying to cool us down but unable to deal with that sort of heat.

I let my hands slide back down to his flexing a.s.s again, feeling the power of each thrust as he gave them to me.

It was different when we felt my third climax rearing up inside of me. His thrusting grew desperate. He was so hot and hard for me that I was powerless to resist.

My heat had a similar effect on him. He groaned, his breathing ragged, the concentration on his face losing the fight to his need.

We both reached our peaks at the same time. Liam pushed forward, sinking all the way into me again. Even though I thought it impossible, when he came the heat where we joined became more intense.

We both gasped, clutching the other, trying to hold on. It lasted forever and only a few moments, somehow.

He wrapped his arms around me and held me close for a while, my cheek pressed to his bared and heaving chest. I closed my eyes, listening to the rhythmic hammer of his heart, breathing in his scent. Just being present with him while we were still joined together into one.

When we parted, the soreness set in with a vengeance. But I didn't mind. I liked it, even. A memento of our desire.

My legs were like two strands of overcooked spaghetti when I tried to stand up, resulting in me sitting back down on the desk while Liam handed me my clothes.

Although even he had trouble. His legs trembled as well, and even in the dim light of that entry hall I could see the deep flush to his skin, like a fresh tan. I had to look similar, I knew.

"You know, we could have done this back at my flat," I said, rubbing the sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand.

Liam didn't put his s.h.i.+rt back on, for which I was thankful. Instead, he'd come out the bathroom with his khakis done back up. I could see the spots on his biceps where I'd pushed my nails into him.

I knew there were similar marks on that perfect a.s.s of his, too. And that made me smile.

He saw that smile and returned it. "Maybe," he said, "But I really did want to show you the city. I'd still like to show you all the things we missed today."

For that, he deserved a kiss. Summoning what little strength remained, I stood up. My legs wobbled alarmingly, but held. He moved to catch me, but I waved him off.

Then I took his face in my hands and pulled it low, so that I could plant a good one on his forehead. I could taste the saltiness of his sweat, and couldn't help smiling at how that sweat had come to be there.

"What was that for?" he said, considering me with those deceptive baby blues again.

"For you. For being here, with me..."

"It's not exactly a ch.o.r.e, you know."

"I know. It's just... hard for me to explain. Just take my grat.i.tude at face value, will you?"

"Yeah, okay," he said.

I looked for and found my one missing sock, rolled into a ball against one of the desk's feet. When I tried leaning over to grab it, my equilibrium left me, my lower back and thighs complaining, and only a sudden s.n.a.t.c.h at the lip of the desk kept me from planting my face into the expensive-looking hotel carpet.

"Just leave that stuff for now," Liam said. "There's something else I think you'll like."

For a second, I thought he meant he was already prepared for round two. "Let's hold off for a few minutes, can we?"

He frowned for only a moment before catching my drift. "No, not that. Not yet, anyway... Just come here."

Then he scooped me up in his arms and carried me through the suite, careful to step over the ceramic shards in the hallway.

He took me past the bedroom, with its huge bed and panoply of pillows, and past the kitchen and its ill-fated frittata.

We reached the bathroom and he set me down on the tile. I bit my lip, expecting it to be cold, But it wasn't. It was warm against the bare soles of my feet.

Liam chucked. "Heated floors. Incredible, isn't it?"

"Yeah, cool," I replied.

"I know just what you need," Liam continued, a grin spreading out on his lips.

"And what might that be?"

He nodded and I followed the gesture to the enormous jetted bathtub in the corner. It had an elegant, swan-necked spout and even the k.n.o.bs were marble accented.

It looked like a little slice of heaven. The ache in my back intensified, the weakness in my legs spreading so that I almost crumpled into a heap on that lovely heated floor.

"You really are psychic," I said.

He went over and started drawing the bath, twisting first one k.n.o.b and then the other while testing the water with his other hand to get the temperature just right.

Then he upended a bottle of vanilla-scented bath foam and squeezed out a generous amount, the liquid immediately exploding into white, soapy suds beneath the pressure of the faucet.

The tub was big enough that it looked like it belonged in a spa. And it had one step leading up to it. I stood on that step, and Liam held my hand when I stepped into the tub.

The heat of the water tingled against my skin, and immediately I felt the velvety smoothness of the foam.

I hissed and groaned as I settled down into the water, which sloshed against the smooth porcelain bulkheads of the tub.

Just the heat alone felt incredible on my overtaxed muscles, and soon I settled down into the reclined position the slope of the tub offered.

The heat and the smell relaxed me so much that I'd nearly fallen asleep when I felt Liam sit on the edge. He had a tall flute of white wine in one hand, which he placed on a small, flat table beside the tub apparently made for just such a service. "Are you ready?"

"There's more?" I said.

He thumbed a marble-accented b.u.t.ton between the hot and cold k.n.o.bs. A motor buried somewhere in the room hummed to life.

Then the jets started. There was one pointed at the small of my back. The sudden pressure made me groan again.

"Careful, s.e.xy sounds like that will make me want you again," Liam said.

I replied with a moan. The jets whipped the suds into an even creamier, fine, and opaque foam. All I could smell was a light and refres.h.i.+ng vanilla scent.

"I've died and gone to heaven," I said, "That's the only explanation."

"The only explanation for what?" He dipped his hands into the water, swirling his fingers in the warmth. The man could have asked me anything at that moment and I'd have told him. He could have for anything at that moment and I'd have been unable to say anything but yes.

"For you. For this bath. For today."