The Italian's Passionate Return by Elizabeth Lennox Read Free Book Online

you.”
    She shivered and pulled back even further. She’d suspected as much, but hearing him say the words….
    “Don’t do that,” she told him in what she hoped was a firm voice but came out sounding more whispery than firm.
    He chuckled softly, his hands going from the counter to her waist, pulling her closer. “You’ve known from the moment we saw each other this morning that this was inevitable.” His hands moved higher, his fingers exploring her slender waist. “And now that time has come,” he said.
    She pushed against him with her hands, her palms flat against his chest but instead of pushing, as she’d intended, her hands discovered the muscles underneath the expensive material of his tailored shirt. And her hands moved! Not to push him away but to…explore!
    Oh goodness, his chest felt…wonderful.
    “Do that again,” he grumbled, his voice deep and husky. She could feel his voice through her hands when he spoke and it added a whole new layer of intensity to the sensation.
    “I can’t,” she said, even while her fingers smoothed over the material once again.
    “Di nuovo!” he rasped. “Again!” he repeated in English this time.
    Jemma looked up into his eyes, startled by the heat. Her mind was telling her to push him away, to ignore his orders. But she couldn’t ignore him. She couldn’t pull her hands away. Suddenly, all she wanted was to re-discover this man and all of the secrets of his body.
    So instead of doing what was right and sane, her fingers slid down his chest, feeling all the muscles twitch and tighten. And because that was so fascinating, she moved her hands up again, this time more to the side, remembering how much he liked… Yes, she almost laughed when her fingers moved over the flat, male nipples, causing him to grip her waist with his strong fingers.
    She breathed in, her breath shuddering with the process but she couldn’t pull her hands away. She moved them up and down his chest, sliding lower each time. His stomach muscles were just as fascinating as his chest muscles and she explored carefully, loving the way he almost flinched with her touch but he didn’t move away. In fact, he moved closer, encouraging her exploration.
    Jemma hadn’t been with another man since Damien and their one night together. She should tell him to stop, but then his head bent and kissed her neck. She heard herself moan but didn’t realize that her fingers were now curling in his hair, pulling him closer. Or that her body was pressing against his, almost rubbing her breasts against his hard chest as the need that had been smoldering ever since this morning burst into a raging inferno.
    Damien lifted her into his arms and carried her out of the kitchen, no longer able to hold back any longer. When he kicked the door to her bedroom closed, he lowered her feet to the floor, then covered her mouth with his. He felt her hesitate only a moment, but he suspected it was because of innocence and not so much resistance.
    “Tell me what you like, Jemma,” he said to her even while his fingers slipped underneath her sweatshirts to find the soft skin underneath. “What do you like? What have your other lovers done that you like?”
    “Nothing,” she whispered to him even while her own fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt.
    He laughed. “Surely one of them has done something that you liked.”
    She bit her lower lip, shaking her head as his fingers found her breasts. She gasped, her fingers stilling while his thumb discovered her nipple, teasing the already hard peak to an aching point on her body. But then he moved his thumb away and she cried out, leaning her forehead against his chest. “I told you, no other man. Don’t stop!” she said and grabbed his wrist, silently begging him to continue teasing her nipple. “Please, don’t stop that.”
    His body was aching to push her back onto the bed and bury himself inside of her but he was also fascinated by this woman. “Tell me again,”