A Façade to Shatter. Lynn Harris Raye
her instantaneously. When he stretched out over the top of her, she could think of nothing but how perfect this felt, how amazing to be naked beneath a man, his body stretched over hers, dominating hers in all the right ways.
Lia wrapped her legs around his waist, arched her body into him, her hands sliding down his back until she could grip his buttocks. It was natural, instinctual, and she gloried in the sound of approval he made in his throat.
She wanted to explore him, wanted to remember this night forever. But the fire between them was too urgent to go slowly. Lia gasped as she felt the head of his penis at her entrance. She knew this would hurt. What she didn’t know was how badly.
Zach reached between them and stroked her. “Are you ready, Lia?” he whispered. “Or have you changed your mind? Last chance to say so.”
Lia loved that he would ask. Now, like this, with his body poised to enter hers, he stopped to ask if she still wanted him. Part of her wanted him to stop. Part of her was terrified.
Brave. She nibbled his earlobe between her teeth, felt a ribbon of satisfaction wind through her at the soft growl he emitted. She was brave.
There was no other answer she could give except yes. Her body was on fire, humming from the way he touched her, the way he made her ache for more.
“Please,” she said, the only word she could manage. It came out sounding like a sob. Zach stilled for the briefest second—and then he was sliding forward, his body entering hers.
She tensed when there was a slight resistance, but it didn’t last. Zach’s eyes clouded as he looked down at her, as if he were thinking, but then she shifted her hips, and he groaned softly. He was fully inside her now, his length stretching her in ways she’d never experienced before.
It was the most astonishing feeling. She arched her hips upward, gasping as sensation streaked through her.
“Lia, you make me forget—” She didn’t know what else he planned to say because he took her mouth then, kissing her hard, urgently, his tongue sliding against hers so hotly.
They lay like that for a long moment, kissing deeply, their bodies connected and still.
Then he began to move, slowly at first, and then faster as she took everything he had to give and asked for more. The air between them shimmered with heat, with power.
Everything about making love was foreign to her—and yet it wasn’t. She felt as if she’d always known how it would be, as if she’d only been waiting for him to take her on this sensual journey.
As they moved together, as their bodies lifted and separated and came together again, she could feel something just out of reach, something wonderful and shattering and necessary. She strained toward it, needing it, trying to catch it—
And then, with a gasp of wonder, she did.
“Yes,” he told her, his breath hot in her ear as he threaded his fingers through hers and held her hands over her head, “like that. Just like that, Lia.”
Lia sobbed as she flew out over the abyss. And then her breath caught hard in her chest before it burst from her again in a long, loud cry, her senses splintering on the rocks below. Zach captured her mouth, swallowed her cries as she moaned and gasped again and again.
Soon, he followed her over the edge, gripping her hips and lifting her to him as he found his own release. He gave her cries back to her then, and she drank them in greedily, until the only thing that remained was the sound of their breathing.
Zach moved first, lifting himself up and rolling away from her. Lia lay stunned at the intensity of the experience. Like a slow drip from a faucet, uncertainty began to erode the surface of her languor.
What happened now? Did she thank him for the good time, put on the robe and leave? Or did she roll over and run her fingers over the smooth muscle of his abdomen?
She knew what she wanted to do. She wanted to touch him again. Explore him when her body was calm and still.
But she was paralyzed with indecision. And then Zach decided for her. He didn’t say anything as he got up and walked into the bathroom. Lia’s heart performed a slow dive into her belly. They’d had sex, and he was finished.
She scrambled up and grabbed the robe, slipping it on and swinging her legs over the side of the bed before he returned. Before she’d gone three steps, he walked out again.
Both of them crashed to a halt, staring at each other.
He was, she thought with a pang, beyond gorgeous. Beautifully, unconsciously naked. Tall and dark, packed with muscle that flexed and popped with his every movement. He looked like something she’d dreamed up instead of a flesh-and-blood man she’d really just had sex with.
Dio, she’d just had sex… .
“Zach—”
“Lia—”
They spoke at the same time, their voices clashing. Lia dropped her gaze to the floor.
“Are you hungry?” Zach asked, and she looked up to see him watching her, a half smile on his handsome face. She couldn’t keep her eyes from roaming his perfect body, no matter how she tried to focus solely on his face.
“Not that kind of hungry,” he added with a laugh. “Though I’m definitely game for another round later.”
Another round. Oh, my … Her insides thrummed with electricity at the thought.
“I haven’t eaten since breakfast,” she managed, her pulse thumping at the idea of doing it all again. And again.
Zach walked over to the desk and picked up the menu there. “Any suggestions?” he asked.
She had to struggle to concentrate. She knew what was on the menu without looking, but she could hardly think of food when Zach stood naked before her.
“Some antipasti, a little pasta alla Norma, some wine. It is all good,” she finally managed, knowing that her brother would serve nothing but the best in his hotel.
“And dessert,” Zach said, grinning. “Let’s not forget dessert.” He picked up the phone and ordered in flawless Italian—adding cannoli and fresh strawberries to the list—while Lia went into the bathroom to freshen up.
Her reflection surprised her. She’d thought she would look different—and, indeed, she did in a way. She looked like the cat that’d gotten into the cream. Yes, it was a terrible cliché, but it was truly the best way to describe that look of supreme satisfaction. Her skin glowed and her eyes were bright. Her lips were shockingly rosy and plump.
From kissing Zach. Her stomach flipped hard, and she wondered if she’d be able to eat a bite when he sat there with her, looking so tempting and yummy.
Lia forced herself to focus. She used the comb on the vanity to smooth her wild tangle of hair—as much as possible anyway—and wiped away the mascara that had smudged beneath her eyes. Then, heart pounding, she returned to Zach’s suite. He’d pulled on his jeans and sat in a chair by the window, staring at the screen of his smart phone. When he realized she was there, he put the phone on the table.
His gaze was sharp, hot, and her skin began to prickle.
“Your Italian is perfect,” she said, casting about for something innocuous to say. Something that would give these butterflies in her belly a chance to settle again. “Where did you learn it?”
“My grandfather was from Sicily,” he said. “And I learned it from my mother. She refused to teach me the Sicilian dialect her father spoke, but she did teach me Italian.”
Her gaze slid over him again. Now that she knew he had Sicilian blood in him, she could see it. He had the hot, dark eyes of a Sicilian. “Then you have been to Sicily before, yes?”
He inclined his head. “But not for many years.”
She went and perched on the edge of the sofa,