C3 First night

Dario was tensed as he drove home. He had a beautiful lady right beside him and he thought of a lot of things he would do to her once they'd gotten home so he sped up the car as anticipation filled his blood.

The moment they got home, Dario lowered his darkly handsome head and kissed her. She was so unprepared for the move and so taken back by it she fell into it like a child falling down a bottomless well. His mouth moved on hers and his tongue darted across the roof of her mouth and excitement leapt so high inside her she felt dizzy and intoxicated, her head tilting back, her hands tightening round his neck, fingertips flirting with the silky strands of his black hair. It was heavenly and devastating; heavenly to glory in her womanhood and appreciate that she had now discovered her sensual side and devastating to register that the wrong man was punching her buttons, simply to impress their audience.

In passionate rejection of that belittling image, she jerked her head back and pressed him back from her. ‘Enough...’ she muttered unsteadily

Dario rasped in a driven undertone. ‘I want you.’

She had become as stiff as a board. Dario shot back at her with smouldering dark golden eyes framed by black velvet lashes, so breathtakingly handsome in that moment that he took her breath away. ‘Passion isn’t sensible...don’t you know that yet?’

She still couldn’t drag her gaze from his beautifully shaped, passionate mouth.

Dario studied her with veiled eyes, black lashes rimming the glint of smouldering gold. Desire was lancing through him with lightning-force potency, sending tiny ripples of tension through his big, powerful frame. He couldn’t take his eyes off her lush mouth and the pouting crowns of her small breasts, which stirred softly below the fine silk of her top every time she shifted position.

It was years since Dario had been so aware of a woman and he loathed the edgy bite of frustrated hunger that made him tense. He wanted to have sex with her and persuade his libido and his brain that, after all, she was just like any other woman he had bedded.

Sudden shyness claimed her as he gazed down at her, the lights picking out the hollows below his high cheekbones, lending him an enigmatic quality. In that lambent light, he was truly beautiful, sleek and dark, exotic and compellingly male. With sure hands he pushed her hair back from her face, letting the long, silky strands flow down her back. He tipped up her face and claimed another kiss, feeding from the sweetness of her mouth with hungry fervour, crushing her soft full lips below his while her fingers clung to his shoulders.

‘I’ve been thinking about this from the first moment I saw you,’ Dario growled against her reddened mouth, his dark deep voice vibrating down her spinal cord, the very essence of masculinity.

"Less talk, more action" she whispered with a voice like velvet.

‘There’s no accounting for taste or the male libido,’ Dario quipped, impervious to her disagreement. ‘I saw your face, your skin, your eyes...it was enough’

He took her mouth in a long, intoxicating kiss and sober thought became too much of a challenge. A tension of a very different kind began to lace her body. She became ridiculously conscious of the silk rubbing against her swollen nipples and the dampness at her feminine core. Her body was responding to the chemistry between her and Dario with a life of its own, blossoming like a flower suddenly brought into bloom by the sunshine. Only chemistry, just sex, she reflected in an abbreviated fashion as she warded off her insecurities. There was nothing to fear, nothing to be ashamed of, nothing she need avoid to protect herself. Dimly she was registering at some level of her brain that her mother’s disastrous affairs had made her far too reluctant to take a risk on a man.

Her silk top fell in a colourful splash of silk to the wooden floor and, with a ragged sigh of appreciation, Dario closed his hands to the pert swell of her breasts, his thumbs expertly capturing and massaging the protruding pink peaks until they were taut and throbbing and the very breath was catching in her tightening throat. Her hips dug into the mattress beneath her, seeking to sate the hollow ache tugging at her pelvis.

One-handed, he wrenched at his shirt. ‘You see how I forget what I’m doing when I’m with you?’ he rasped.

She only needed that invitation and she tugged at his shirt, delicate fingers stroking over his taut, muscular shoulders, adoring the heat and strength of him. He put his mouth to her neck and skimmed the tip of his tongue along her delicate collarbone and then, gently lowering her flat on the bed, he roamed down over her ribcage, sending delicious little jolts of desire through her each time he captured the tender peaks of her breasts.

Passion had claimed her. Her temperature was rocketing higher and higher, a sheen of perspiration on her brow, and her heart was hammering so fast it felt as if it were at the foot of her throat. Her hand delving into his luxuriant black hair, she pulled him up to her and kissed him with all the urgent hunger racing through her. He pushed her skirt up above her knees and trailed his fingers slowly up her inner thighs. Every inch of her felt stretched taut with the extreme wanting that had taken her over and she gritted her teeth as he anchored his fingers to her knickers and trailed them off. She wanted his touch so bad it hurt and she squirmed in a fever of need.

‘I’m trying to go slow,’ Dario bit out raggedly, ‘but I feel like an express train.’

‘Talking too much,’ she told him, her teeth chattering together at the unwelcome pause.