Modern Romance March 2021 Book 5-8 by Carol Marinelli (most romantic novels .txt) 📕

since last night. Relief poured through her as he dragged her back to where they’d left off. White heat radiated from his body into hers, burning away her cobwebs of misgivings. This was nothing like that tainted, ancient memory from years ago. It was sweet and good and right.

Amy felt safe and cherished in these arms that could crush, but didn’t. His mouth rocked across hers, seducing and ravaging, giving as much as he took. He stole soft bites of her tingling lips, and the heat in his eyes sent shimmering want through her limbs.

“Will anyone come in?” She wasn’t ashamed of what they were doing, but she dreaded another discovery.

“No,” he murmured, adding, “But let’s make sure.”

He moved as if they were dancing, smoothly pivoting her before he caught her hand and swirled her toward an unassuming door. It led to an anteroom and from there they entered a massive bedroom.

This was the king’s chamber, a mix of the palace’s opulence and Luca’s spare, disciplined personality. Huge glass doors led to a terrace that overlooked the sundial and the sea. The glass was covered in sheer drapes that turned the light pale gold. The marble floor was softened with a thick rug in shades of gold and green, the ceiling painted a soothing blue between the white plaster and gold filigree. There was a fireplace and a comfortable sitting area, and a button that he touched caused all the doors to click.

“We have complete privacy now. Even the phone won’t ring.”

He turned to her and she stepped into his arms with a sigh of gladness, wanting to be swept away again into that place where second thoughts were impossible.

He cupped her face. His spiky lashes flickered as he scanned her features.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, uncertainty creeping in.

“Absolutely nothing, but if we only have today, I’m damned well going to take my time and remember every second.”

“Oh,” she breathed. His words dismantled her at a very basic level. She wasn’t that special. Didn’t he realize that? She was actually tarnished and broken. What she was doing right now with him was akin to stealing.

But as the pad of his thumb slid across her bottom lip, she whispered, “I want to savor you, too.” She lifted a hand to touch his hair, startled to find the strands so soft and fine when it looked so thick.

He adjusted their stance so their bodies aligned perfectly. His feet bracketed hers, and his thighs were hard against her own. He was aroused, the stiffness of him undeniable against the part of her that was growing soft and damp and ripe.

She slid her arms around his strong neck. His touch slipped under her jacket so his hands splayed across her back while they crashed their mouths together.

Something wanton in her wanted—needed—to know he was as helpless against her as she was against him. She arched, inciting him with a grind of her hips against that alluring ridge of hardness, seeking the pressure of him there.

Lust exploded between them. His whole body jolted, and his arms tightened before he backed her toward the high bed.

Her thighs and bottom came up against the edge of the mattress. He held her there, pinned against the soft resistance while his legs went between hers. Now he was the one who gave muted thrusts, his gaze holding hers, watching as she released a soft mew of helpless, divine pleasure. She felt herself dissolving.

“Good?”

He had to know it was. She couldn’t even speak, only nod and brace her hands on the mattress behind her, arching to encourage his rhythm, sharp heels liable to snag his expensive carpet and who the hell cared because this was the most incredible experience of her life. Every breath was filled with his scent. All of her muscles were shaking with sexual excitement.

His hands swept forward and opened her jacket so he could roam his hot palms over the lime-green camisole she wore. A tickling touch danced across her chest and shoulders as he spread the jacket to expose all of her torso. The hot caress of his hands enclosed her breasts.

She groaned and he caught that with his mouth. His thumbs worked over her nipples through the layers of silk and lace. His tongue brushed against hers, and she groaned again as the coiling pleasure in her center became a molten heat. An unstoppable, screaming force.

She had wanted to push him past his own control and here she was losing hers, fists clenched in his bedspread, hips bucking with greed.

When he lifted his head, she dragged her eyes open, dreading how smug he must be at doing this to her, but she saw only a glow of barely leashed lust in his sharp gaze. He was with her, deep in the eye of the hurricane.

“What do you need?” His voice was a rasp that made her skin tighten. “This?” His head dipped and his mouth was on her breast, fingers pulling aside her camisole and the cup of her bra. His touch snaked across her nipple before he exposed it and enveloped her in the intense heat of his mouth.

A lightning bolt of pleasure went straight to where they were fused at the hips and she groaned, moving helplessly against that lethal shape lodged in the notch of her thighs. Acute sensations were taking over, heat and pleasure and a need so great she couldn’t resist succumbing to it.

As he pulled on her nipple, a muted climax rose and broke and cascaded shimmering sensations through her.

Ragged noises left her lips as his hand replaced his mouth, tucking inside the cup of her bra to hold her breast as his mouth came back to hers, tender yet rough, soothing, but determined to catch all of her moans.

The pleasure continued to twist inside her, sweet and delicious and teasingly unsatisfying. She was more aroused than ever. Ready to do anything, which caused a twinge of anxiety as she weakly sank onto her back on the mattress, legs