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Authors: Victoria Parker

BOOK: A Reputation to Uphold
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. Of course.’ It would take every scrap of self-control but he would do it. For her. And, just so she could relax, he admitted, ‘You will soon discover I am bottom-half kind of guy,
cara
.’

‘Oh. Yes. I think I’ve noticed.’

With a half smile designed to make her bones liquefy, he said, ‘Trust me.’ And swept feather-light kisses down her soft stomach, revelling in her sweet moans and the gooseflesh that arose on her almond skin. Then he delved into her panties, deeper into her wet folds, stroking, probing and swirling.

The urge to replace his fingers with his mouth, bury his tongue to taste her sweetness, coursed through him, making his mouth beg, his pulse quicken. So much so, he gripped her waist to keep her upright, ready to fall to his knees. And
devour.

But, before he did, she fisted his hair, undulated atop his hand and pulled him down for a kiss. His kiss. Only his. And all he could think was: mine. Mine. Mine.

For one night only.

Eva belonged to him.

CHAPTER NINE

O
VER AND OVER,
Dante pushed her to the wicked edge of oblivion and tossed her into the deep, dark realms of ecstasy. Until she was boneless. A boneless quivering mass of thrumming desire. Until the sky was velvet black and the moon waxed in fullness.

Heart pounding, blood rushed through her veins as they finally,
finally
tumbled upon the bed, Eva cushioned atop piles of luxurious silk pillows, while Dante braced his weight on his forearms either side of her head, caging her with his long, hard, muscular body—a body vibrating with arousal, stretched to its very limits by his infinite patience.

Silver ribbons of light spun through the windows and her heart stumbled at the sight of her dark phantom hovering above her—colour slashing his cheekbones, eyes black with desire. And she couldn’t resist because the man was a primal male fantasy come to life, so she ran her fingertips over his washboard abs, down the sweat-slicked super-sexy V of muscle on his pelvis and curled her fingers around his thick satiny length...

Dante sucked air between his teeth, jerked from her touch. ‘No,
cara
.’ And gently pulled her wrist away. ‘Give me a minute.
Cristo
, I cannot think when you touch me.’

‘Don’t think. I want you now,’ she said, smoothing her fingers round the tight curve of his rear, which she cupped and squeezed to lure him inside her. So very deep. Until she felt whole. Wanted. Desired. By him. Only him.

‘Eva,’ he growled, slashing his mouth over hers, one hand diving into her hair, the other roaming over her waist and hip with a covetous, mind-blowing touch.

A touch he withheld from her breasts. Breasts that ached with an inexplicable heavy need. So sensitive, she fought with the sudden desire to be free of the white fabric encasing, clutching. But if she tried, took it off, he would see. He would know. And he could
never
know. So she leashed the need—something she sensed in him too. Leaving her vaguely aware that they both held something back.

It was the rapacious predator in him. Dark. Perilous. That savage intensity that made her feel truly alive. Harnessed by the brutal power that was all Dante Vitale. So virile. So heart-stoppingly male.

Yet as soon as the void bubbled in her brain, it popped on a red-hot pinprick of rapture as he traced over her knee before slowly, seductively gliding up the inside of her thigh, stopping short of her wet curls. Wet from his mouth, where his tongue had lapped and kissed, tearing orgasm after orgasm from her shuddering body.

And, right now, she could taste that very essence, her blood already addicted, thirsting for more, and so she held him to her, tangling her tongue with his, drinking
them
in. Knowing. Her dreams hadn’t come anywhere near close to the divine reality of him.

‘Eva...Eva...’ he murmured—making her heart throb—as he eased one hand under her bottom to lift, to tilt, so he could snuggle hard and tight in the apex of her thighs. And,
oh boy
, the sensation of his thick length pressing shot her straight back to that wicked edge and she undulated, grinding her pelvis into him.

‘Slow,
cara
. Only pleasure,’ he said, voice hoarse as his breathing escalated. ‘You are so small inside.’ His bronzed skin damp, big body trembling as if he feared hurting her.

‘Take me...
Please.
’ Just give me this. Memories to hold, to cherish, to remember.

As if she were made of the finest French lace, able to tear under the slightest of pressure, he eased the wide velvet tip of his erection inside her, so very gently. And her heart,
oh, God
, her heart ached. Ached so much she brushed the damp hair from his brow and stared into his dark eyes—watched them grow heavy, glaze out of focus with her every touch—as he finally took her. Because she didn’t want to miss this moment. The one she’d been waiting for all her life. The connection so startlingly intense she felt tears clot her throat, prick the back of her eyes.

Panic seeped into her chest and in that moment she understood her craving for him to unleash. Because like this he posed more danger to her heart. He was almost making love to her. If she closed her eyes, she could pretend, dream as she used to so long ago, that this was her wedding night,
their
wedding night, and she’d saved herself for him. Only him. And such dreams did not belong in this bed. They were the dreams of a naive heart. A girlhood crush. Not the dreams of a woman who knew the limitations of her life. Knew the agony from loving another.


Cara
, tell me if you pain.’
Easy
,
he entered her and her sheath tightened, pulled, sucking him in.

Her head pressed hard into the pillow and she arched sinuously. ‘You feel
amazing
, Dante. So good. I want more. I want all of you.’
I always have. Your heart, your soul
...
No. No! She didn’t. Not any more. This was just sex, passion. Lust.

‘Eva...’ Pure animalistic, a groan, long and deep, came from the depths of his chest, calling to her, spurring self-preservation, refashioning it into recklessness, pulling him down for another kiss. A kiss to blow his mind, make him lose control. All heat and need and want as she writhed to take him deeper, curling her legs around his lean hips, hugging him closer.

‘More.’


Cristo
,’ he groaned, sinking in the last incredible inch until their bodies locked into place. Like two halves of a puzzle clicking together. And the relief,
oh
, the relief was unlike anything she’d ever known. It made her fall back into the mattress, nestle her face in his neck and just...breathe...in and out...breathe him in—all raw masculine power and dark desire.

Time stilled in a unique fragile trance as they lay that way, holding, clutching.

Dante murmured against the sensitive skin where her neck met her shoulder, his every hot breath enticing a shiver. ‘You feel like heaven,
cara mia
, you taste like heaven. You are mine, Eva. Mine.’ All possessive domination.

Even knowing it made her a fool, she couldn’t help but luxuriate in the vibrant violence behind his words.

‘I’m yours.’ And she was. For this moment. The most amazing of her life.

‘Kiss me,’ she begged. Because the man could rock her world with just a kiss and he growled into her mouth, before his lips stole her breath.

Flexing his hips, he began to move in and out of her—slowly at first, focused solely on her pleasure, kissing her face, sucking softly on her neck, smoothing his hand down her thigh, caressing her bottom.

‘Do you have any idea what you do to me? Do you, Eva?’ His dark accent hummed over her skin, notching the heat to danger levels, and she pulsed and clenched with the force of another climax, her lower abdomen now a spool spinning faster and faster, wrapping in luxurious velvet...

‘Dante...’ She kept breathing his name and each time she did his rhythm grew fiercer as if hearing her chant his name fed his fire. So for the first time in her life she danced beneath a warm deluge of female power.

‘Speak to me,’ she implored. ‘I love it when you speak to me.’ Feet flat to the bed, she pushed up into his hard strokes, moaning when he swivelled his hips to lick her sweet spot with the base of his shaft, sparks flying with the friction.

‘Eva,
tesoro
, slow, slow,’ he groaned huskily, voice pained, body vibrating as he grappled with the reins of his control.

Dancing closer to the flame, she bit the flesh of his bottom lip, threw his thrusts off tempo and wrung a deep feral groan from his chest.

‘Dammit, Eva.’ Grabbing her wrists, he pinned her to the bed as if he owned her. Eyes glittering with fire as he towered over her. ‘So much passion,’ he said, voice gruff. ‘Never have I felt anything like you.’ His big body flexed above her, muscles bunching as he ground against her. Slowly. Deliberately.

Electricity began to nip her skin, sizzle in the air...

Then,
boom
, it was hands everywhere they could reach, lips clashing, moans coalescing, control obliterated.

‘Yesss...’

Dante’s voice dropped to a low thrum as he drove inside her in a hot, sensual rhythm, murmuring in his native tongue. A litany of thick Italian to maraud her senses. God, she wished she knew what he was saying because it sounded so wonderful, ignited all the colours in her heart, slamming her body past the point of no return.


Dante
...’ A lightning crack of energy ripped through her core and she arched like a bow, shoulders digging into the downy pillows. Suspended. Captured on a sensually erotic plateau.

Dante’s awed tone drifted from the other side. ‘
Cristo
, Eva,’ as he stroked two blunt fingertips down her chin, swirled down the column of her throat, ‘look at you.
Maledizione
, let go...’ he demanded hoarsely. ‘Let go,
cara
.’ Lifting his torso just a touch, he rubbed her clit with the pad of his thumb rhythmically. ‘Come for me, Eva. Come for me.
Now.
’ And
whoosh
, the spool unravelled in hot, delicious waves of bliss, her entire body seizing in rapture while her world broke apart.

Suddenly fearful, a wild vulnerability quaked through her body until she shook—shook so hard she was petrified she’d never stop.

Anchoring,
needing
his strength, she wrapped her arms around him, vaguely aware she was murmuring in his ear, hoping he adored the sound of her voice when he came as much as she loved his. Telling him how amazing he felt inside her, how hard she wanted him, how deep, only him. Only ever him.


Eva
,’ he said, like a plea. So she held him tight, so tight to her.

His big body was racked as he was tossed into the heart of the storm, spilling heat, hips pumping long and hard in a mind-blowing rush. The shuddering fever-pitch engulfing her with gratification that she did this to him. Gave him pleasure. It made her feel wonderful. Deliciously happy.

Then her heart screamed, stay.
Stay with me. Please don’t leave. Hold me in your arms. Just tonight.
The night she wanted never to end. But of course it had to. Reality would puncture the hazy dream until only memories lingered like wisps of bliss. The truth of her life would rise with the dawn. Depart on his jet. But not yet. Even if he stayed until she slept. It would be enough.

Storing every last second to her heart, Eva drifted down from the glorious heights like a shower of rainbow confetti—her body fluttering, the place between her legs beating out a soft tattoo of lingered pleasure, as they lay in each other’s arms, lips moving over jaw and throat, nuzzling, soothing, calming.

Dante brushed down the side of her face—reverently, tenderly—at odds with the sudden hard edge of his voice. As if the man who’d just delivered her to ecstasy was no more than an illusion. A dream. ‘Sleep,
cara mia
. I must work.’

‘Okay,’ she whispered on a slumberous sigh that feathered the aching wall of her throat as he gently unlocked their bodies, taking his glorious heat and strength with him. Leaving her cold. Empty. Bereft.

A heavy sensation that dragged the weight of her exhaustion and pulled her into the depths.

Until a thick curse burst from his lips and her eyes flew open. Connected with his. Then burned from the flames of fury she saw there.

Disgust twisted his lips, but it was the remorse hanging in the air that tore a seam up her midriff.

‘Dante?’
Oh, no. No! Please, no regrets.

Supple, agile, he lunged from the bed, throwing himself to his feet, anger crackling in every movement.

Standing like some bronzed god, he was totally, gloriously magnificent in his nakedness and she felt an astonishing twist of renewed heat–

‘Are you protected?’ he bit out. ‘On the contraceptive Pill?’

And, with a deft push, she tumbled from heaven straight into hell.

* * *

Dante spun on a flaring blast of energy, spied his black silk lounge trousers and snatched them from the hardwood floor. Dragging them up the taut contours of his legs, he was vaguely aware that Eva did much the same at the opposite side of the room, snagging a white scrap from the back of a chaise, no doubt the closest thing to hand.

Swivelling to face her, he caught the white ripple of her linen sundress glissading down her sleek thighs, veiling skin that shimmied with pearlescent dew from an erotic fever the likes of which he’d never known.

Cristo
, he’d always known she would be the death of him. Clearly, as soon as his angel hit the sheets her halo disintegrated. If he’d ever wondered if there was a creature who could unearth the dark passion that ran a black river beneath his skin, Eva was his answer.

Since when had he—Dante Vitale, the bastard heir— forgotten protection? Such loss of total control.

Since Eva.

Anger seeped into his brain like venom, swirling his vision in a black mist.

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