"I want to see you," Vitale told me, and squeezed my bare thigh. I wanted him to see.
"Put me down," I said, and Vitale did, looking puzzled.
"I'm sorry, I--"
"Help me unzip," I said, and his eyes darkened with understanding. I turned to face the window and pulled my hair to the side. Vitale's hands went not to my zipper, but to my wrists, and I was about to ask what he was doing when he lifted them so my hands were pressed to the cold glass.
"Don't move," he said lowly in my ear, and I felt my knees weaken. The effect he had on me terrified me, but I was all there for it. From the moment he took me to his suite, I knew I was done for, but I was no longer scared about it.
Vitale's hands left my wrists and a moment later I felt them brush the back of my neck. I shivered as he carefully moved some loose hair to the side, and then tugged my zipper down treacherously slowly. His fingers against my bare skin had my breath coming out in shallow puffs that fogged up the glass, and when he lowered his lips to trail kisses across my back and shoulders, I couldn't help the little sounds escaping my lips.
Vitale turned me back to face him and I was floored by the depth of the heated look on his face. There was more than just desire in his eyes. There was need. And that was all it took for me to slide my dress over my shoulders and let it drop to the floor, leaving me in nothing but lacy red panties. Vitale didn't say anything for a long moment. He just let his eyes trail over my mostly naked form leisurely, as if he wanted to memorize each detail of me. Everywhere he looked felt like a flame burning across my skin, but in the most pleasing way. When his eyes returned to mine, he swallowed.
"You're perfect, mia Viola," he said, sending heat rushing to my cheeks.
"Touch me," I pleaded, suddenly very nervous under his gaze. I still didn't believe he never brought girls here, but I didn't really care. Right then, all I cared about was him.
Vitale didn't need asking twice. He moved forward so we were chest to chest, and bent to pick me up again. This time, when he did, I let my heels fall to the floor. Vitale kissed me deeply, slowly, and carried me across the room to his bed. He sat at the foot with me straddling his lap, where he let his hands explore my exposed body. I unbuttoned his shirt while his rough hands roamed my bare skin. He caressed my thighs, over my ass and up to grip my hips, and then up more, over my ribs, my back, around to my breasts, where he took his time gently squeezing them and running his thumb over my nipples.
When I pushed his shirt off of him, Vitale's moved his hands to my back and pulled us together so that we were skin to skin. His lips trailed down my neck to press kisses along my collar bone, and I leaned my head on his shoulder and just breathed him in. Something about this felt far more intimate than a hookup, and that did scare me a little. The way he held me felt like more than sex, and for a split second, I considered backing out.
"God, Violet," Vitale groaned against my skin. "You have me crazy for you."
"Then take me," I sighed against his skin. I was the crazy one if I thought I could actually convince myself to leave. Not only was I painfully turned on, but I was stupidly into him, and I wanted to feel him everywhere.
"You're sure?" he asked, and lifted me so that he could lay me down on his bed.
"Please." The word came out almost a whisper, but he heard it. He stood over me while he unbuckled his pants, and I swallowed hard when he dropped them to the ground, revealing his erection. Vitale was sculpted, from his massive biceps, down to his abs, and into the v of his pelvis. With the turquoise light of the sign outside glinting off his olive skin, he looked like art.
YOU ARE READING
Christmas in Paris- A Rough Love Novel Alternate TimelineRomance
Violet, an art student studying abroad, is stuck in Paris for the holidays. She plans to spend Christmas Eve relaxing in her dorm room and reading a book, but when her friend, Cadence comes by, feeling lonely in a foreign country without her family...