Taste (Cloverleigh Farms, #7)(33)

“The same thing you were telling me to do. This.” He crushed his lips to mine.

The kiss was hard and deep and demanding, and sent shock waves reverberating throughout my body. He opened his mouth and slanted his head and let his tongue move between my lips. My hands were still locked in place next to my ears, but my body responded by arching toward his, and I wrapped one leg around his hips, trying to pull him closer.

I kissed him back like I wanted it, like I wasn’t ashamed, like I wasn’t even afraid—and maybe I wasn’t. I was mad about it, but I had no fear.

The realization struck me hard, as hard as the bulge in Gianni’s pants that was pressed between my legs. He began to rock rhythmically against me, and a sound escaped my throat, a muffled cry of need and frustration. I wanted him closer. I wanted his hands on my skin. I wanted that mouth on the back of my neck again, that tongue on my throat.

A strangled moan worked itself free from Gianni’s mouth too, and he picked up his head. “Fuck,” he growled. “This could get out of control really easily.”

“I don’t care,” I panted. “Let it.”

“You’re sure? You drank a lot of wine kind of fast, and I don’t—”

“Gianni.” I thumped his ass with my heel. “Don’t fuck this up a second time. You’re never going to have this chance again.”

“You’re not drunk? You really want this?”

“I’m not drunk.” I lifted my head and stroked his bottom lip with my tongue. “And I really want this.”

“Sex can ruin a friendship, you know.”

“Then it’s a good thing we’re not friends.”

I only caught the boyish grin on his face for a second before he was kissing me again. A moment later, he stood up and started to unbutton his shirt. “Wait,” I said, getting to my knees and placing both hands on his chest. “Do you really want this?”

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve wanted this every single night for six months. Probably farther back than that. You’ve always been the unattainable girl of my dreams, Ellie.”

I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Then let me.”

Quickly my fingers worked their way down the row of buttons, and I enjoyed the way his chest was expanding and contracting so fast. I pushed the shirt down his arms and it fell to the floor. Beneath it he wore a plain white T-shirt, and I grabbed the hem and yanked it over his head.

When he was shirtless in front of me, I couldn’t help myself—I gasped. Then I put my hands on his warm, smooth skin and ran them over his chest, down his shoulders and biceps, up his stomach, his muscular abs rippling beneath my touch. He was beautiful, more beautiful than anybody I’d ever been with, and I had to know what that golden skin would feel like against my lips.

I pressed my mouth to his chest right beneath his collarbone, and just like he’d done years ago in that closet, planted a row of kisses right to left. When I reached his sternum, a light patch of hair tickled my lips. His hands reached beneath the sweater I wore and slid up the outside of my thighs to my hips. His fingers dug into my flesh as my mouth continued to travel across his chest.

Desire was running hot through my veins, and previously unthinkable urges overwhelmed me. I caressed his nipple with my tongue, circling it, licking the taut peak slowly and deliciously. Gratified by the groan of pleasure it elicited from his throat, I did the same thing to the other one, sliding one hand between his legs and rubbing the thick, hard bulge through his jeans.

I kissed my way up to his neck and breathed deeply—the scent that had stirred me up in the car filled my head again, making me dizzy with lust. I reached for the button on his jeans. After slipping it through the hole, I dragged the zipper down and slipped my hand inside, wrapping my fingers around his cock as I stroked his throat with my tongue.

He groaned even louder, easing his hands inside the edges of my panties and squeezing my bare ass. “Fuck,” he rasped as I worked my fist up and down his shaft. “Fuck, that feels good.”

I teased the crown with my fingertips, brushing the tip with my thumb, pleased when I felt the droplets of slick wet warmth beneath my touch.

Gianni grunted in frustration and yanked at the sweater. “I want this off.”

I raised my arms, and he whipped it over my head, throwing it aside. I wore nothing beneath it, and his eyes popped. His palms immediately covered my breasts. I worked my fingers into his hair, pulling his mouth back to mine, craving his kiss again. His thumbs teased my nipples, and I arched my back as electric pulses hummed along every nerve ending.

He slipped one hand between my thighs, rubbing me slowly but firmly over my black satin panties. My hips rocked over his hand instinctively, my underwear growing damp. I widened my knees slightly, hoping he’d understand the invitation—and he did.

His fingers worked beneath the satin, and my breath caught as he teased me open, gently sliding one of those talented fingers inside me. My hands fisted in his hair as the tension in my body pulled tighter. “Yes,” I whispered against his lips. “Yes.”

Wrapping one arm around my shoulders and the other circling my knees, he tipped me onto my back and pulled my panties down my legs. After tossing them to the floor, he stood up to remove the rest of his clothes, hopping on one foot when his jeans stubbornly clung to his legs. I laughed when he finally wrested them from his body and pounced on me, covering my body with his and burying his face in my neck.