causing. It was the least she could do for the sake of her pride.
He shook his head, as though negating what he had said, and when he next spoke, his voice was a low, growling rasp.
“If I touch you, I will want more, and more, and I will not stop until you are naked and beneath me, my cock driving into you. I will want to make you scream with pleasure, will do everything I can to make it happen, Jane.”
“Sergio, please…” The words whispered out from between her fingers, and she shuddered, wanting him so badly she thought she could easily die from it. “Stay.”
Yet even as she spoke, as she saw him shake his head again, she understood and knew he spoke the truth. What they had done before was truly just a prelude, satisfying to a point, but not enough to slake the thirst they had for each other. Caught between agonizing fear that he would never return or touch her again and joy that he obviously yearned for her, as she did for him, she could only watch him and wait.
“When is your half-day?”
“Tomorrow.”
A blaze of emotion crossed his face, was reflected in his eyes for an instant before he reined it in. But she had already seen it and rejoiced.
“Meet me.” Again a demand, and, even had she wanted to, Jane wouldn’t have been able to resist. “I have a friend, an artist, with a studio in Wood Street, near Cheapside. He will let me have it for the afternoon if I ask.” Reaching into his pocket, he produced a slip of paper, his eyes never leaving hers. “Shall I ask, cara mia ?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes.”
Once more he closed his eyes as though collecting himself, and Jane knew she had never seen anything more beautiful than Sergio Fontini wanting her so badly he did not dare even look at her in a moment such as this. When he opened his eyes, he carefully placed the slip of paper on the nearest table before capturing her with the intensity of his gaze again.
“Come to me then.”
Oh, but how was she to wait so long? Already the following day seemed an eternity away, her need so passionate she did not know how she would be able to bear the delay.
“But I want you now.”
She hadn’t meant to say it but couldn’t stop the words from whispering out. Sergio’s eyelids grew heavy, his face taking on a look of such seductive force, Jane’s body trembled.
“Are you wet for me, cara mia ? Have you been remembering what we did last week, imagining what I would do today?”
Jane nodded, swallowing against the dryness of her throat, pressing her thighs together, seeking surcease from the interminable craving for him.
“And did you touch yourself while you thought of me?”
Heat rushed to her face, and she gasped. But again she nodded, saw a stain of color touch his cheeks too as she did.
“Show me how, sweet Jane.” As she watched, he began to loosen the buttons on his placket. “Turn your chair toward me and open yourself to me. Show me how you touched yourself, and I will show you how I touched myself, as I thought of you night after night.”
She did as he directed, shuffling the chair around and then lifting her skirts. There was a growl of pained approval when he saw she was bare beneath. Sliding her bottom to the edge of the seat, she leaned back and opened her legs, letting him see between, showing him how desperate she had become waiting for him.
“Ahhh.” His sigh seemed to come across the room and touch her nub, so her hips jerked in reaction. “How you tempt me, sweet girl. How I long to throw caution aside and taste you again.” He pulled out his cock, let it rest on one palm, as though offering the taut length to her. “Do you remember how I fucked your mouth?”
“Yes,” she moaned, putting fingers into her slick folds, already on the verge of release, yet wanting to wait, to draw these precious moments out. “I remember. And I remember how your thumb felt in me, rubbing and thrusting.”
As though recreating the moment, she plunged two fingers into
He shook his head, as though negating what he had said, and when he next spoke, his voice was a low, growling rasp.
“If I touch you, I will want more, and more, and I will not stop until you are naked and beneath me, my cock driving into you. I will want to make you scream with pleasure, will do everything I can to make it happen, Jane.”
“Sergio, please…” The words whispered out from between her fingers, and she shuddered, wanting him so badly she thought she could easily die from it. “Stay.”
Yet even as she spoke, as she saw him shake his head again, she understood and knew he spoke the truth. What they had done before was truly just a prelude, satisfying to a point, but not enough to slake the thirst they had for each other. Caught between agonizing fear that he would never return or touch her again and joy that he obviously yearned for her, as she did for him, she could only watch him and wait.
“When is your half-day?”
“Tomorrow.”
A blaze of emotion crossed his face, was reflected in his eyes for an instant before he reined it in. But she had already seen it and rejoiced.
“Meet me.” Again a demand, and, even had she wanted to, Jane wouldn’t have been able to resist. “I have a friend, an artist, with a studio in Wood Street, near Cheapside. He will let me have it for the afternoon if I ask.” Reaching into his pocket, he produced a slip of paper, his eyes never leaving hers. “Shall I ask, cara mia ?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes.”
Once more he closed his eyes as though collecting himself, and Jane knew she had never seen anything more beautiful than Sergio Fontini wanting her so badly he did not dare even look at her in a moment such as this. When he opened his eyes, he carefully placed the slip of paper on the nearest table before capturing her with the intensity of his gaze again.
“Come to me then.”
Oh, but how was she to wait so long? Already the following day seemed an eternity away, her need so passionate she did not know how she would be able to bear the delay.
“But I want you now.”
She hadn’t meant to say it but couldn’t stop the words from whispering out. Sergio’s eyelids grew heavy, his face taking on a look of such seductive force, Jane’s body trembled.
“Are you wet for me, cara mia ? Have you been remembering what we did last week, imagining what I would do today?”
Jane nodded, swallowing against the dryness of her throat, pressing her thighs together, seeking surcease from the interminable craving for him.
“And did you touch yourself while you thought of me?”
Heat rushed to her face, and she gasped. But again she nodded, saw a stain of color touch his cheeks too as she did.
“Show me how, sweet Jane.” As she watched, he began to loosen the buttons on his placket. “Turn your chair toward me and open yourself to me. Show me how you touched yourself, and I will show you how I touched myself, as I thought of you night after night.”
She did as he directed, shuffling the chair around and then lifting her skirts. There was a growl of pained approval when he saw she was bare beneath. Sliding her bottom to the edge of the seat, she leaned back and opened her legs, letting him see between, showing him how desperate she had become waiting for him.
“Ahhh.” His sigh seemed to come across the room and touch her nub, so her hips jerked in reaction. “How you tempt me, sweet girl. How I long to throw caution aside and taste you again.” He pulled out his cock, let it rest on one palm, as though offering the taut length to her. “Do you remember how I fucked your mouth?”
“Yes,” she moaned, putting fingers into her slick folds, already on the verge of release, yet wanting to wait, to draw these precious moments out. “I remember. And I remember how your thumb felt in me, rubbing and thrusting.”
As though recreating the moment, she plunged two fingers into
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