Blushing hotly, she complied. Moving over, she positioned herself closer to his head, parting her legs.
His eyes caressed her, so hot she could feel herself growing moist from his gaze alone. Tentatively she touched between her legs, running her fingers up and down over her tender inner lips. She teased herself under his watchful dark eyes, playing with the little nub above her sex until she was breathing heavily.
So was he. “Isabella, climb over me—over my face. I want to taste you.”
A thrill passed through her at the idea. He moved down to lie flat on the bed. Heart racing, she shifted and threw her leg over him, positioning herself on her knees just over his face. Using the headboard to brace herself, she lowered those crucial few inches until he was there, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to her soft feminine flesh.
That caress reverberated through her body. Hands trembling, Isobel gripped the headboard tighter.
“You taste like nothing else, mi amore,” he whispered, his hot breath puffing over her wet sex. “Move yourself as you will. I want you to guide me.”
Isobel looked down, meeting his eyes. It was so strange to see him smiling up at her from between his legs. She laughed and nodded, adjusting her hips so that she was hovering above him, shifting up and down so that his lips and tongue could caress her.
“Oh, God,” she gasped as he sucked her pearl into his mouth. Above him she writhed, rocking back and forth as his mouth worked its magic underneath her.
His tongue probed her entrance, forcing its way inside her in a wicked twisting motion. The spasms started almost immediately. Her channel gripped him like a velvet vise, throbbing around him. Losing control, Isobel threw her head back and rocked faster until she was grinding down on him.
Her scream of completion made him laugh, but it was muffled and Isobel hastily collapsed to the side so she wouldn’t smother him.
It took several minutes to catch her breath. When she finally turned to look at him, he was watching her breasts heave up and down with each movement of her chest.
“It’s hell not being able to touch you, cara,” he said, twin notes of longing and frustration in his voice in his voice.
Poor Matteo, he truly did not deserve to lose the use of his hands.
“I would like to remind you, my lord, that the night isn’t over yet.”
He chuckled and she shifted down the bed, moving over him until her head was level with his manhood.
Tentatively, she reached out to lick him.
“What are you doing, amore?” he asked breathlessly.
“Something the maids used to whisper about...the things they did when they went out walking with their sweetheart. It was considered safe since they didn’t risk their positions by falling pregnant.”
Taking his already swollen manhood in her hands, she put her mouth over the rounded head, licking and sucking, cupping him below and squeezing lightly. Experimenting, she tried to take as much of him in her mouth as she could, but he was too big, so she settled for kissing him up and down his length.
Matteo didn’t seem to care that she couldn’t take all of him. His moans filled the air. She liked the sound and the fact that she was the one causing it. It was his turn to writhe helplessly, to be taken to the brink and then pushed over it.
His hips thrust up, trying to prolong the contact with the warmth of her mouth until he suddenly changed his mind.
“Cara, stop. Please. I need to be inside you.”
Still riding the high from pleasuring him she climbed over his thighs, bringing them together with a heady rush of sensual abandon.
The air in her lungs escaped in a hiss as she sank down on his steely arousal. He was almost too large and thick for her—especially in this position—but she was soft and hot from her earlier climax, enough to work his entire length inside.
He swore when the tip of him touched her womb, but quickly lost the power of speech when she began to move. Leaning forward and using her arms for leverage, she rose up until he was about to slip out and then quickly back down.
Below her, he reached up reflexively. His bandaged hands pressed against her hips.
She hurriedly leaned down to whisper, “No, my darling. You mustn’t.”
He needed to be careful. Taking hold of his wrists, she pressed his arms down to the bed, holding him by the forearms so he couldn’t hurt himself.
She pressed a kiss to his lips before beginning to rock again. Clasping him tightly in her sheath, she pumped up and down, losing herself in the feel of him. Her sheath gripped his shaft hungrily, the friction she generated catalyzing pleasure to blinding ecstasy.
Giving herself over to the moment, she cried out, hips rocking frantically as her climax rose and crested like a wave. It crashed down with the force of the ocean during a storm.