Diavolo

xxviii

PRESLEY

        I bit my bottom lip, stifling a smile and slowly walked over to him. I'd never felt so exposed to a man like him before because even though I was wearing nothing but a thong, it wasn't about the clothes.

It was about his gaze, the mix of raw power and dripping desire melting through my body.

        I wasn't drunk, and I hadn't smoked a cigarette a day in my life but the adrenaline rushing through my body felt dirty, and a little wicked. Was this the reason people drank?

        There was something about being pulled to the edge of the shoreline, tethering dangerously close but being held by a single cable string. 

        The pad of his thumb gently brushed the side of my chin, there was a tenderness about him as his big hands covered my bare hips and pulled me against him.

Those olive-green eyes softened drastically, unknown emotions and questions swirled around the edges of his irises. "Hi."

"Hello." A soft smile floated on my lips and pulled till I could feel my cheeks hurting from his gaze which was burning through me. Like a lit flame to the tip of a paper, scorching hot and rabid.

        It was at this moment that I knew I wanted nothing but this man's focus on me at all times. It made me sound a little insane but I couldn't imagine him staring at another woman with the strange look on his face. A look of softness. Like he was staring at the sunrise for the first fucking time.

        I glanced up at him though thick lashes, watching his hooded eyes fixated on my face. "Is there something on my face?"

        He shook his head, lowered his face, brushing his lips against my forehead. "You're perfect, baby," he drawled in a voice dripped with syrup and fisted my black hair in his gentle grip to angle my face slightly upward.

        He leaned forward slowly taking the time to tease me, slipping his tongue tasting me for himself like one would gently take a bite of cotton candy. Softly. Gently.

        My eyes closed of their own accord matching the fervor of the kiss which was deeper, more sensual than any kiss we've ever had.

        I held him tightly by the nape of his neck holding myself upright because the heat vibrating between my thighs were making my legs weak. He was making me fucking weak.

        I could taste the intoxicating flavor of scotch on my mouth and remnant of cherry cigar as he slid his tongue into my mouth, pressing me tightly against him.

        He groaned in an audible voice, hot Italian words jumbled out of his mouth. Wet, sloppy and desperate kiss almost like he was tasting me for the first time.

       My heart raced, soared through the pearly whites of heaven, knocking a buoyant tune as his fingers dug into my hips, snaking around my waist to move up against his erection.

        I could feel his cock growing harder and thickening between my legs, rough and unrelenting.

        Breaking off the kiss, he took a few steps towards the direction of the wardrobe island, still securing me against his body.

        He lifted effortlessly and sat me down, his big body hovering over me as I leaned in to press my mouth against his.

        I kissed him even harder, pushing my hips and grinding my body against his to satisfy the scorching heat between my thighs.