At her front door, he took her hands, a solemn expression on his handsome face. “Danielle, are you sure want this?”
This sweet, horny, so-damn-young man was worried about rushing her. “Do you?”
He nodded slowly. “My bones ache from wanting you.”
A fizzy sensation filled her, as if someone had lifted the top of her skull and poured in a bottle of champagne. “Me too.” She unlocked the door.
Chapter Seven
Tuesday Afternoon
Itwasn’teasytounlock the cottage door with her mouth sealed to Matteo’s and her left hand tunneling beneath his shirt, but she finally managed. He shrugged his backpack onto the floor, cupped her face in his broad, warm palms, and kissed her breathless. His velvet tongue teased her lips apart while he grasped her ass through her skirt and pulled her tight against him. Beneath his jeans, his cock stood at attention, a heated ridge of flesh against her belly.
For the past several years, she’d had to tease Jason’s indifferent penis to erection with her hands and mouth, but Matteo was ready to go right now, and her pussy tingled with an urgency that edged toward pain. Mouthing a silent prayer of thanks, she fumbled with his belt.
“Easy, now.” Matteo gently disengaged her greedy fingers from his buckle. “We’re all sandy. Let’s clean up first.”
Her cheeks flushed hot. What a dork she was, mauling him like some clumsy, horny virgin. But his hypnotic gaze held no mockery, just desire so intense it made her insides vibrate. She took his hand. “A shower sounds great. This way.”
As soon as they stepped into the bathroom, Danielle froze. Sunlight flooded through the skylight, glinting off the huge mirror. He was going to see her forty-two-year-old body in excruciating detail, every roll, every spider vein, every dimple. Nausea churned in her belly.
Her wide-eyed look of horror reflected in the mirror. So did Matteo’s hooded gaze as he ran his hands down her arms, raising trails of goosebumps. “Look at you, Danielle. So beautiful, so lush…” He nuzzled her hair and inhaled its scent. “You’re glorious.”
She gulped and met his reflected gaze. Slowly, he unzipped her sundress and let it fall to pool at her feet.
Matteo’s breath caught, then came out in a whoosh that stirred her hair. “Sei bellissima.” His fingertips skimmed over the cups of her black lace bra before lowering the straps. With a soft, hungry grunt, he pressed a kiss to her shoulder, his hair tickling the crook of her neck. Her nipples contracted to sensitive peaks as he swirled feathery caresses over her breasts, down her stomach, along the flare of her hips, finally coming to rest on the tender insides of her thighs, mere inches from where she wanted him. Needed him. Now.
Of their own volition, her hips undulated in slow circles, but he made no move to lower her panties, content to trace the edges of the thin fabric. “That’s it, Danielle. Dance with me. No one’s ever moved with me like you do.” At last, his fingertips whispered over her mound, drawing a shudder, then slipped beneath the elastic.
Oh, God—should she have shaved? Waxed?
Matteo pressed closer, his belt buckle cool against the small of her back. His hips rocked, a subtle sway that brushed his rigid cock over her ass and sent her pussy into a flurry of urgent contractions. With agonizing slowness, his fingers parted her throbbing folds and slid over the slick wetness inside. The shock of pleasure jolted her.
“A goddess.” He stroked her, passing two fingers over her clit, then plunged them inside her slippery channel.
She jerked and gasped, but he held her firmly in place. “Look at me, bella.”
With a ragged inhalation, she focused on their reflection. A rosy flush tinted her face and chest. Her marble-hard nipples strained against black lace. Her stomach rose and fell. And behind her, Matteo’s heavy-lidded stare, his parted lips, his mussed hair. In a voice husky with desire, he murmured, “See how beautiful you are. Watch me make you come.”
“But I want you—”
His fingers curled inside her, and lightning flashed up her spine.
“Soon, cara.” He maintained a steady rhythm, light glides over her clit interspersed with strong thrusts inside. Her bones melted. The room blurred and swam around her. But she kept her gaze on his dark, burning eyes. “Give me this first,” he murmured. “Let me see you come.” He clutched her breast, kneading the sensitive flesh and brushing his thumb over her nipple.
“Matteo, I—” Her words dissolved into a high, keening cry as climax tore through her in wave after wave of electric bliss. He rode it with her, his eyes locked on hers, his hand gently caressing her until, too over-sensitized to continue, she finally squirmed free.
He brought his glistening fingers to his lips and licked them clean. “Mmmmmm. Deliziosa.” He tugged his shirt over his head. “Now I need my skin against yours.”
While she clung to the counter, still too wobbly to trust her legs, he unclasped her bra and let it fall, then peeled off her panties.
Insecurity gripped her, just for a moment, but there was no mistaking the desire flickering in his dark eyes. He wanted her, and that knowledge infused her body like a shot of sweet liquor, relaxing her tense muscles. She turned to face him, bare ass against the cool tile counter, and ran her hands over his chest.
She’d forgotten what this felt like: satin skin dusted with coarse hair, firm muscle, pounding pulse. She trailed her fingertips over his pecs and brushed her thumbs over each flat, brown nipple before following his tantalizing happy trail down to his belt. “Let’s get you out of this,” she murmured as she unfastened the buckle.
She slid the rough denim down, then hooked her foot in the waistband and shoved his jeans to the floor. He wore nothing underneath, and his cock sprang free, hard and thick, a glistening teardrop on the plump crown.
“Oh my.” She raked her nails over his smooth flanks and the muscular curve of his ass. “You are glorious.” With a hungry moan, she cupped his silky balls and stroked his shaft.
