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

narrowed her eyes and held her ground. Temper crackled around her. She resisted his attempt to unfold her arms.

“Neither am I.” He managed to draw her stiff arms open and kissed the inside of each of her blue-veined wrists. “But we haven’t had time to become confident in each other, have we? So we’re failing the test.”

“You specifically told me not to believe in this!” She freed a hand to fling it out with exasperation. “You’re the one who said it was a meaningless affair.”

“I never said meaningless.”

She tried to pull her arm away, but he held on to her wrist. Her struggle drew her closer. Her nose was even with his chin, her gaze wide and surprisingly defenseless beneath the sparks of anger.

That vulnerability dug into him the way her temper and his own conflicting emotions hadn’t. He drew her in with great care, twining her one arm behind his lower back, then massaged her stiff shoulders.

“I’ve always known exactly what was expected of me,” he said. “And I’ve always met and exceeded those expectations.” His lips were tickled by flyaway strands of her hair. “But from the moment I met you, I have been off-center. I know what I should be thinking and saying and doing, but I can’t make myself do it. Every instinct in me wants to have you.” His arms tightened around her. “But I can’t let that animal win. Not when I know how dangerous it is. The war inside me is killing me so you’ll have to forgive the snarls.” He ran his hand into her lower back.

It took a few circles of his palm before she released a noise that landed somewhere between defeat and petulance.

“This is new for me, too. From the job you hired me for to how I react to you...” She picked one of her red-gold hairs off his sleeve, then rested her hand where it had been. “I’m not being coy. This is hard to navigate.”

“I know. I’ve made it hard. You have a right to be angry with me, which makes me less sure of you.” He let one hand settle above her tailbone.

“I’m not angry or blaming you.” Her brow pulled with consternation. “I took the job and slept with you. I caused us to be seen. I know how much of this is on me and that’s hard, too. I’m worried about how our efforts to turn this around will pan out.”

“It’s going to be harder if we’re fighting, no?”

“Whose fault is that?” she admonished, but grew pliant, leaning her thighs against his.

“Guilty.” He let his fingers fan out to graze the upper curve of her backside. “Maybe we should kiss and make up. For the sake of our image.”

“Humph.” Her lips twitched. “Here in the privacy of this bedroom? Where no one can see us? A strong brand has to be reinforced consistently.”

“Ooh. More shop talk, amata mia.” He nuzzled his mouth into her throat, groaning with mock lust. “It makes me so hot.”

She laughed and tried to shrug away from his tickling kiss. “Does it? Because I was going to say that I’m currently with the only man who interests me, but okay. Let me tell you about shareable infographics.”

He lifted his head, accosted by the most intense flush of pleasure. The kind that should have had an orgasm as its source. And yes, he hoped to experience one of those very soon, but this was even more deeply affecting because it wasn’t a biological reaction. It was an expansive, chaotic and thrilling reaction to a throwaway remark she had buried in nonsensical teasing. It was terrifying how much it meant to him.

“What?” she asked, smile faltering.

“Nothing.” He cupped her cheek and set his mouth across hers, the avaricious beast in him howling to consume her, but something soft and equally ravenous urged him to be tender. To savor as he plundered. To pour himself into her even as he felt her start of surprise and tasted her broken sigh of capitulation.

Amy had been confused after their rooftop discussion, coming away wondering if she was allowing herself to be used again. She had wanted desperately to reach out to her friends to start putting all of this into perspective.

Neither had been available and for a few minutes, when she’d come back to the lounge, things between her and Luca had seemed to devolve into chaos. She had stalked up here insulted and filled with misgivings and now...

Now she was more confused than ever.

If he was using her, it was in the most tender way possible. His kiss was fierce and insatiable and shatteringly gentle. He was treating her like she was precious and irresistible. He unraveled her ability to think clear thoughts.

She knew nothing but her body and the feel of him where he touched her. The fingerprints he traced on her cheeks near her ear, the playful scrape of his teeth on her bottom lip, the brush of his thighs against hers and the wonderous way he cradled her breast.

The onslaught wasn’t only physical. There was tremendous emotion welling in her as she heard his muted groan ring in his chest. She thrilled to the press of his erection into her middle and sighed with adoration when he touched his lips to her brow.

And she trembled. It was nearly too much, the way he made her feel so beautiful and treasured at once. The way he had shared his struggle. She felt it in the brief bite of his fingertips into her hips before he slowly eased her clothing away. Tasted it like whiskey on his tongue when he made love to her mouth before he kissed the nipples he’d exposed and slowly, erotically, made her writhe with need by sucking on them.

“Luca,” she gasped.

His eyes were incandescent as he backed her toward the bed. Then he was over her, both of them with their clothing askew, but neither was willing to break apart to undress completely.

“I need you