The Perfect Someday (A standalone novel ~ Book three in The Mathews Family) by Beverly Preston Page B
Authors: Beverly Preston
Ads: Link
croaked.
“Si`,” he managed in a strained tone.
Unable to see the exact problem, her fingers moved blindly, fumbling with the material. Clutching to his shoulder, she cinched her knees around his hips and folded her feet beneath her bottom. Tracy struggled, pressing downward on his thighs with the tops of her feet, trying to get a visual as she yanked at the dress.
“I can’t get it. The eyelet of the material is twisted around a button on your waistband.”
She heard Giovanni murmur, swearing in Italian, his face hidden in the shadows.
“I’m trying to be careful.” Tracy assumed his swearing was due to the idea that she might rip his slacks, until the rising pressure beneath her thigh seized her attention. Oh! Her pulse spurred into a rhythm of erratic beats.
Giovanni ’s head hovered beside hers. The scorch of his heavy breath fanned across her neck. “Let me…let me get it.”
He reached down between her thighs, working at the twisted fabric. His touch burned through the cotton of her dress. A fiery sensation rushed through her and the skin beneath her dress coated in a thin layer of dampness. His grasp on her bottom became slick from the rising heat and her muscles strained making the effort not to move. The thickness of his erection made her writhe, shamefully, molding herself closer to the terrain of his aroused body.
“Damn it .” He cursed again tugging at the dress. The back of his knuckles skated over her panties, brushing against her delicate pleasure spot.
A shock went through her and she arched slightly. A whimper filtered through her exhale.
Giovanni yanked again, coasting over the same spot, sending tremors of delight swirling through her. Her hands fisted into the folds of his shirt. A low unruly moan climbed from her throat, capturing his full attention.
He blinked repeatedly, eyes heavily lidded and full of apology.
Giovanni pulled his hand away. She squirmed and pushed the top of her foot firmly against dense muscle of his thigh. Her hips hitched upward, following the warmth of his hand. He held perfectly still, hesitating.
Their eyes locked. Tracy’s body throbbed with need, but she couldn’t bring herself to say the words aloud. Rolling her hips, she nudged gently, urging him to touch her.
T he back of his hand skimmed over the thin strip of wet silk acting as a ghost of a barrier between them. She purred the word, “Yes.” The grip he held on her bottom tightened, allowing her to rock against the heel of his palm. Giovanni slipped his thumb inside the edge of her panties. He moved with purpose, circling over the throbbing flesh. Her eyes rolled back reveling in his accuracy.
Somewhere deep inside , she acknowledged that when this moment of passion ended she was going to lecture herself for many reasons. First and foremost being humiliation. But for the first time in her life, Tracy tucked away her inhibitions. Consumed by raw need, she went for it.
O pening her eyes, she peered into his heat-filled gaze. Her fingers curled around the nape of his neck for leverage, urging his mouth to hers. She took his mouth with deep ravenous kisses. Giovanni licked her mouth in a full exploration. The surging heat and intimate taste consumed her, making her want more.
Her hips pulsed against his hand in short upward swivels. The momentum built as he massaged her clit with excruciating delicacy. She wanted his mouth, she wanted his fingers, she wanted every part of him. She couldn’t get enough. The sensation was so forceful she wanted to scream, but the sounds caught in the tightness of her throat. “Touch me, yes, yes.”
She could only make out parts of the endearments he made in Italian. He spoke into the hair near her temple, telling her words of sweet reassurance, “Just relax. I’ll get you there. Let go.”
Giovanni twisted, hunting for her mouth. His silken kisses were delicious and erotic, permeated with bold flavors from the wine. Sharp shadows of the outline of his
“Si`,” he managed in a strained tone.
Unable to see the exact problem, her fingers moved blindly, fumbling with the material. Clutching to his shoulder, she cinched her knees around his hips and folded her feet beneath her bottom. Tracy struggled, pressing downward on his thighs with the tops of her feet, trying to get a visual as she yanked at the dress.
“I can’t get it. The eyelet of the material is twisted around a button on your waistband.”
She heard Giovanni murmur, swearing in Italian, his face hidden in the shadows.
“I’m trying to be careful.” Tracy assumed his swearing was due to the idea that she might rip his slacks, until the rising pressure beneath her thigh seized her attention. Oh! Her pulse spurred into a rhythm of erratic beats.
Giovanni ’s head hovered beside hers. The scorch of his heavy breath fanned across her neck. “Let me…let me get it.”
He reached down between her thighs, working at the twisted fabric. His touch burned through the cotton of her dress. A fiery sensation rushed through her and the skin beneath her dress coated in a thin layer of dampness. His grasp on her bottom became slick from the rising heat and her muscles strained making the effort not to move. The thickness of his erection made her writhe, shamefully, molding herself closer to the terrain of his aroused body.
“Damn it .” He cursed again tugging at the dress. The back of his knuckles skated over her panties, brushing against her delicate pleasure spot.
A shock went through her and she arched slightly. A whimper filtered through her exhale.
Giovanni yanked again, coasting over the same spot, sending tremors of delight swirling through her. Her hands fisted into the folds of his shirt. A low unruly moan climbed from her throat, capturing his full attention.
He blinked repeatedly, eyes heavily lidded and full of apology.
Giovanni pulled his hand away. She squirmed and pushed the top of her foot firmly against dense muscle of his thigh. Her hips hitched upward, following the warmth of his hand. He held perfectly still, hesitating.
Their eyes locked. Tracy’s body throbbed with need, but she couldn’t bring herself to say the words aloud. Rolling her hips, she nudged gently, urging him to touch her.
T he back of his hand skimmed over the thin strip of wet silk acting as a ghost of a barrier between them. She purred the word, “Yes.” The grip he held on her bottom tightened, allowing her to rock against the heel of his palm. Giovanni slipped his thumb inside the edge of her panties. He moved with purpose, circling over the throbbing flesh. Her eyes rolled back reveling in his accuracy.
Somewhere deep inside , she acknowledged that when this moment of passion ended she was going to lecture herself for many reasons. First and foremost being humiliation. But for the first time in her life, Tracy tucked away her inhibitions. Consumed by raw need, she went for it.
O pening her eyes, she peered into his heat-filled gaze. Her fingers curled around the nape of his neck for leverage, urging his mouth to hers. She took his mouth with deep ravenous kisses. Giovanni licked her mouth in a full exploration. The surging heat and intimate taste consumed her, making her want more.
Her hips pulsed against his hand in short upward swivels. The momentum built as he massaged her clit with excruciating delicacy. She wanted his mouth, she wanted his fingers, she wanted every part of him. She couldn’t get enough. The sensation was so forceful she wanted to scream, but the sounds caught in the tightness of her throat. “Touch me, yes, yes.”
She could only make out parts of the endearments he made in Italian. He spoke into the hair near her temple, telling her words of sweet reassurance, “Just relax. I’ll get you there. Let go.”
Giovanni twisted, hunting for her mouth. His silken kisses were delicious and erotic, permeated with bold flavors from the wine. Sharp shadows of the outline of his
Similar Books
