Making over the Billionaire (an Italian Connection Novel) (Entangled Brazen) by Joan Kilby

eyes closed, fingers still laced through his hair.
    He guided her over to the bed and laid her down, kneeling over her, legs astride her hips, while she pulsed with the afterglow of her orgasm. Giorgio’s body was hard and hot, his erection heavy between her legs, as he continued to pleasure her with his mouth and hands without entering her. Despite his own arousal, he was letting her rest. The man had iron control, not just over others in his sphere but also himself.
    His lips touched hers lightly. His eyes were hot and dark, his lashes tangled at the corners. Another scar, tiny and white, curved at the outer edge of his cheekbone. She traced the flaw on his cheek with her tongue. “What happened there?”
    “An accident. Long ago.” He kissed her cheeks while he continued to stroke her breasts, his eyes half-closed.
    She ran a hand down his shoulder to his bicep, keenly aware of the hard shaft waiting impatiently for her to be ready for him again. She traced the elegant lines of the tattoo around his bicep. Ricordate sempre . “What does that mean?”
    “’Remember always.’”
    “What is it you need to remember?”
    For a moment his gaze was raw, sober and sad. Then the shutters came down. He glanced at her naked body and his mouth curved up at one corner. “Not to leave it so long between making love to a beautiful woman.”
    Okay, so he didn’t want to talk about it, whatever “it” was. She’d gotten him to agree to the football game. Best not to push his limits. Changing her mood to suit his, she teased, “How long has it been?”
    “That’s not something a man tells a woman.” He sounded offended, as if she’d called his masculinity into question.
    He was fun to prod. So tough yet so sensitive. She stroked a hand down his side and across to grip his erection, still rock hard despite the lull in action. “Are you going to wait another age before you get busy again?”
    Heat flared in his eyes. He shifted position and his thick, hot cock nudged at her entrance. “Is that a challenge?”
    “You can take it however you want.” Layla smiled. The Beast was back and he was pawing at the gate. “Hold on, just another second.” She twisted to one side to reach into the nightstand drawer for a condom. Waving it between two fingertips she smiled. “May I do the honors?”
    He sat back on his haunches and she rose to her knees. Ripping open the package, she leaned forward. Instead of sheathing him, she lowered her head and took him in her mouth. He jerked involuntarily and she grabbed his thighs to steady herself. Slowly, she licked around the head, tasting the salt, breathing in his musky scent. She sucked, gently at first and then harder. He groaned and plunged his hands into her hair, his fingers cupping her skull. She’d barely gotten started, licking and sucking, when he pulled her up.
    “Later.” He smoothed on the condom and then rocked her onto her back and thrust into her in one hard stroke, filling her and pushing her up the bed in an electrifying jolt of pleasure. She was left in no doubt who was in charge now. Layla gripped the covers and wrapped her legs around his waist, tilting her hips to take him deeper. He planted his hands on either side of her head and held her gaze with his as he stroked his massive cock in and out, firm and deep.
    He hit her g spot with a sure, strong touch that made her eyes glaze over. His tanned muscles were sheened with sweat and a lock of dark hair fell over his forehead while the cords in his neck stood out. Sculpted muscle rippled with fluid movement and shone in the soft light filtering through the curtains over the porthole. She was boneless with pleasure, mindless with a primeval urge to draw him deeper, to thrust harder.
    His face and chest were her field of vision. The soft-hard, slide-slap of his body against hers and the rasp of his harsh breath filled her ears as his cock filled her, stretching her. The push and pull of their hips sharpened the