Gianni's Pride (11 page)

‘What about your rule?’

‘Rules are made to be broken.’

‘I don’t have casual sex with strangers.’ She made the statement as much for her own benefit as his.

‘Then tell me to go away and I will.’

The silence stretched while Miranda struggled to think through the haze of desire in her head … Then she gave up fighting.

‘I … I can’t,’ she admitted in a throaty whisper. ‘I don’t want you to go away.’

He was so close now she felt the sigh of his warm breath as it left his lips. Her nostrils flared as she breathed in the musky male scent of his warm body. He was so close now she was panting … Oh, God, panting!

What had happened to her?

She shook her head and thought,
I don’t know or care but I’m damned well going to enjoy it
.

‘Then I won’t.’

Gianni lowered his head and in the darkness found her lips. They were soft and trembling. Without encouragement they parted and with a groan he deepened the kiss. Miranda met his tongue with her own in an instinctively sensuous stabbing movement.

The intimate exploration was so overwhelming she struggled to cling to any sense of self. She could feel and taste him everywhere. Then with a sigh she stopped trying and impossibly it felt even better.

Her body felt soft and pliant as he dragged her up hard against him, reaching with one hand to the neck of her top and sliding his hand down over one smooth, high breast, pushing his fingers under the thin lacy covering of her bra to find her nipple hard and erect.

She gasped, a quiver running through her body as he ran his thumb across the tight bud.

Gianni bent his head, pushing her hair away and whispering in her ear. ‘You like that?’

‘Yes, don’t stop …’ She reached up to touch his skin. It felt scalding hot and damp as she spread her fingers and moved her hands up over his ridged stomach towards his chest.

He tangled his fingers in her curls and dragged her face up to his. ‘I won’t.’ He couldn’t. There was a fever in his blood that Gianni had never in his life experienced. Her hands on the bare skin of his chest left trails of fire.

‘Your skin feels incredible,’ she said, her throaty voice raw with wonder. He was hard, his skin the texture of warm satin. ‘You feel—oh, God!’ she moaned, unable to press herself close enough. ‘So good.’

He pressed a kiss to the base of her throat, pushing her slightly away. Her protest died as his fingers tugged at the buttons of her blouse, clumsy in his urgency to expose her body.

Their fingers touched as she tried to assist him. He murmured
encouragement against her mouth as he continued to kiss her with a bruising intensity.

A frantic moment later her shirt was gone, flung over his shoulders; her bra quickly followed. She immediately stepped into him, raising herself up on her toes to draw his head down to her, crushing her breasts up flat against him and crying out as he pressed his erection hard against her pelvis.

They were still kissing when he picked her up and carried her from the darkened room as though she weighed nothing.

He carried her, not to the room next to Liam’s, but up the next flight to her room in the eaves. Still kissing her, he walked backwards through the door into the tiny bedroom.

Miranda had left the window open and not closed the curtains before she left and the room was filled with moonlight and the smell of the night-scented stock that drifted in on the night breeze that felt cool against her overheated skin.

She opened her eyes as he laid her on the bed. The sight of the big man who knelt over her sent a heavy pulse of languid longing through her body.

A tiny sob escaped her lips.

His hooded eyes flared, the darkness igniting into flame as they swept over her body. Before his eyes locked on to hers she lay there breathing hard as he unfastened the belt on her skirt. He slid down the zip, bending to kiss the tiny indent above her belly button before he slid the skirt down over her hips.

A moment later her silky pants followed.

His eyes hadn’t left hers for a moment. They did now, and the almost feral growl of appreciation that vibrated in his throat as he looked down at her naked body sent a pulse of lust slamming through her so intense that for a moment she struggled to catch her breath.

She closed her eyes. What was happening was so far out
of her comfort zone she couldn’t anticipate what her body would do next. She could feel what little control she had slipping away.

When she prised her heavy lids open she discovered he had removed his shorts. She sucked in a shocked breath, excitement zigzagged through her body like fork lightning and she felt an immediate flood of hot moisture pool between her thighs in reaction to the sight of his magnificently aroused body.

‘If you carry on looking at me like that,
cara
, this thing will be over before it is started,’ he rasped throatily.

‘S … sorry.’ He was watching her and not moving. His stillness had an explosive quality. The muscles in her stomach quivered violently; her mouth was dry.

‘No apology required.’

She shivered and cried out as his hand curved over one breast, then his head was there, dark against her skin as he began to run his tongue over her aching flesh, moving closer to the tight, burning nipple before he finally took it into his mouth.

While he tasted her, his hands began to move, stroking and caressing her everywhere until her entire body was shaking and her skin was burning.

Then his tongue moved lower, the sensual exploration following his hands down her body. She jerked at the touch of his fingers along her inner thigh as he dragged her legs apart, causing her to gasp as he stroked the throbbing core of her pleasure. After the first shock she found herself moving with him, her hips rotating in time with the rhythmic caresses as she felt the pleasure build.

She gave a bewildered cry of protest when he moved away without warning.

‘Hold that thought,
cara
.’

‘What are you doing?’

‘We need protection. I know, I know, sorry, but I promise I’ll be back before you can say—’

‘I want you,’ she completed, her dissent giving way to anticipation at his explanation.

Gianni broke all records racing to his room and then back up. Sitting on the side of the bed, he removed the foil from the condom, stopping when he felt her hand curl around the smooth shaft of his erection.

The touch snapped his fragile control and with a growl he tipped her back on the bed. Sliding on the condom with one hand, he knelt between her pale thighs. Kissing her throat, he trailed his damp kisses towards her mouth as Miranda guided him with a shaking hand into her, her overpowering need overcoming doubt.

His astonished gasp was louder than Miranda’s.

‘Relax,
cara
, let’s do this slow and sweet,’ he crooned in her ear. ‘You ready for this?’

‘Please,’ she whispered, grabbing his shoulders, feeling as though his beautiful voice was the one thing anchoring her to reality.

He began to move, stroking a hand down her flank as he looked down into her face, struggling for control as her tight, wet heat surrounded him, and gripped him, sucking him into her body deeper and deeper.

She could not believe the pleasure singing through her body. Every move he made produced new and wonderful mind-numbing sensations. ‘You feel … oh, Gianni, you’re so good at this … very, very, very good—do you know that?’

Miranda moved with him, breathless, clinging, every fibre of her body straining for release … up to the point where she really thought she’d lose consciousness. Then when it came the release was like a starburst, wave after wave of intense thrumming pleasure that hummed through her entire body.

G
IANNI
still lay on top of her breathing hard when she said, ‘I’d really like to do that again.’

Miranda felt the laughter in his chest before he grunted and rolled off her. ‘I pride myself on my quick recovery time, but give a man a second to catch his breath.’

They lay side by side, breathing hard, the sweat on their skins cooling until Miranda started laughing.

He turned his head at the soft sound and murmured drily, ‘Not a reaction I have ever had before.’ Luckily his ego was fairly sturdy or he might be feeling worried instead of just … exhausted. His eyes slid down her supine body. Her smooth skin glistened pearly pale beneath a fine layer of sweat, her pink-tipped little breasts still bore the marks of his caresses and he realised he was actually not that exhausted.

Miranda threw a hand above her head and sighed. ‘I really never knew that anything could be that marvelous, that I could feel … That was wonderful. You were just totally incredible, thank you.’

His eyes gleamed with warm amusement. ‘You are very welcome and I can honestly say it was a great pleasure.’

‘Are you annoyed?’

He turned his head to look at her.

‘That I didn’t mention …’ She shrugged. ‘You know …?’

Gianni lifted his reluctant gaze to her face—the shrug
had made her breasts quiver and shift in a delicious way that fascinated him. She fascinated him; she really did have the most incredible body, so supple and smooth, she reminded him of a sleek little cat.

He couldn’t look at her without wanting to touch her.

A faint flush had washed over her skin when she caught the direction of his gaze, but she had made no attempt to cover herself. The intense awareness of her body and the total lack of self-consciousness she felt with him ought to have clashed; instead, bizarrely and rather wonderfully, they complemented one another.

‘That you were a virgin? It was a shock but, no, I’m not annoyed. Surprised … curious, yes, but not … annoyed. We might pretend otherwise, but it’s pretty much every man’s secret fantasy to be a woman’s first lover …’

She rolled over, propped her chin on her hands and looked at him. ‘Really?’

He gave a lazy smile and reached out to stroke a hand down the curve of her bottom. ‘Really.’

She gave a wistful sigh. ‘Well, when I find the man who fantasises about being my last lover I suppose I’ll have struck gold.’

‘So why was I your first lover, Miranda? Are you going to tell me?’

Miranda liked the way he had left it open, her choice. ‘At school I was always serious, more interested in books than boys, a bit of a slow developer. Then when I did fall it was for someone who didn’t know I was alive, not in that way at least. And while I was waiting for Oliver to notice me he fell for … someone else.’

The idiot’s loss, Gianni thought grimly, was his gain. ‘But you’re still in love with him, this … Oliver?’ She might be in love with another man, but she was in bed with him—the
perfect scenario: sex without emotional entanglements. ‘But not enough to fight for him?’

‘You can’t make somebody love you, especially when he’s just married your—’ Reluctant to reveal that the woman in question was her twin, Miranda left the statement unfinished and explained, ‘He was my boss. I didn’t want to see them …’

‘Happy?’

Miranda shook her head and looked genuinely shocked by the suggestion. ‘Oh, I’m glad Oliver is happy. He deserves it—he’s a marvellous man. But I thought I’d sat around waiting for—well, I’d sat around long enough. It was time I did something—obviously this isn’t quite what I had in mind, but I’m glad. Very glad.’

She smiled at him and Gianni felt a twinge in the region of his heart. Actually it was more like a hand reaching in and squeezing.

‘To be honest I always thought that casual sex was, well … tacky, that it would feel wrong with someone you didn’t care about … have feelings for. But I was wrong, it’s not. It felt marvellous!’ She pressed her head on his stomach with a sigh. ‘It’s perfect, really. We’re both here and this is what you wanted, isn’t it?’

She raised her head and looked at him. ‘Isn’t it?’ she asked, something in his face making her suddenly uncertain of her reading of the situation. ‘I’m not going to be clingy or fall in love with you, if that’s what you’re worried about. Most of the time I don’t even like you.’

There was a pause before he replied. ‘I did want this.’

‘Past tense?’

‘I do want this. Are you always this painfully frank?’

‘No, that’s just with you.’ Which seemed odd, but now wasn’t the moment to think about it because Gianni was kissing her.

The next morning when she opened her eyes the arms that had held her as she drifted off to sleep in the early hours were no longer wrapped around her. She turned her head and found the space beside her in the bed empty. He had left without waking her.

Startled and a little alarmed by how much she wanted him to be there, she reached out a hand. The cotton sheet was cool under her stroking fingers but the material bore the imprint of his body, and when she pressed her face into the pillow she could smell the male scent of his skin and the fragrance of the soap he used.

Her sensitive stomach flipped as she slipped from the bed, reaching for the robe that was looped over the back of a chair. Her expression was thoughtful as she belted it around her waist. So what next?

No matter what the answer was, Miranda found she did not regret the night before. How could she? It had been perfect.

Would it have been as perfect with Oliver?

Could he have replicated the wild and passionate lovemaking? It was a struggle to think of Oliver doing anything untamed or passionate, and Gianni hadn’t just been passionate, he’d been at times during the night achingly tender and intuitively sensitive to her needs.

Feeling a stab of guilt to find herself comparing the two men, she released the trapped curls from the neck of her robe and let them fall down her back. You couldn’t compare last night with what she had felt … did feel for Oliver. Last night had been sex—all right, great sex, but still just sex, not the deep and profound admiration and respect she felt for Oliver.

Yeah, Mirrie, but would respect feel as good as the sweet golden moment when you felt him move and …?
She shook her head and closed down the line of thought.
Just sex, Mirrie. There’s no point making it something it isn’t. Just enjoy it—if there’s more on offer
.