Startled. Yes, he would easily admit to being just that when Taylor reached up and covered the hand he held to the back of her neck with hers. She slid her fingers under his hand and gently urged it away and then just as determinedly, she removed herself from the bed. He looked up at her questioningly, but she kept her back to him.
Shaking his head, his long hair falling into his eyes, he stood and closed the distance between them. His hands lightly gripped her upper arms as he brought her back to rest against his chest. "Tell me this is wrong," he whispered huskily as he brushed her lustrous hair off to one side. He dipped his head, his lips seeking the soft, warm flesh of her throat.
"It…it's wr…" her voice trailed to a soft moan as he kissed and nuzzled her neck. "I don't want to be hurt again," she admitted in a small, little girl voice even as she reached back to caress his cheek.
His lips drew a soft path along her neck to her ear. "I don't want to hurt you, Taylor." A sound left his throat as his arms encircled her from behind. One hand rested at the hollow of her throat, allowing his fingers to tease her silky flesh, dipping inside her blouse to tantalize the top swell of her breast. "Let me in, Taylor. You can't live your life afraid…everyone takes chances; there are no guarantees."
She released a soft cry. "If you were anyone other than who you are, Ettore," she explained futilely. He had already won this fight; she just had yet to surrender. "I know men like you. Saleswhores…they lie easily. Hide their true intentions until it's time to strike and get what they're really after."
Frank's hands dropped in reaction to her biting words. She hit closer to home than she could have ever imagined. He could easily make believe that she was his for the taking, that she would conform to whatever line of bull he threw at her, but she was too good to play with like that. He didn't want to play; he wanted real, honest, blood boiling passion. He wanted Taylor, wanted to feel her soft, pliable body wriggling beneath him as he pleasured her. Stop torturing yourself, Donovan. It's over. Salesman or FBI agent…the glaring truth is that you're a fucking liar. She deserves better.
He moved away and headed for the door. He was just about to turn the knob when the sound of her voice stopped him. "Bottom line, Ettore. Tell me what you want."
Frank turned; his gaze took in every lovely inch of her. She was scared; her chest heaved with her uncertainty, her eyes flashed with need, and her chin jutted out determinedly. "You know what I want," he answered elusively. He couldn't tell her what he really wanted, and that was to tell her the truth. Every bit of it, even if it cost him the case if she was even remotely involved in the drug smuggling. He'd sell his soul to the devil to have one chance to love her. Make love to her, you mean. Yeah…
Taylor shook her head. "No, I don't know."
Frank approached her slowly. His eyes never wavered from hers and when he was within reach, he gathered her into his arms. "I have no intention of hurting you, Taylor. Whatever happens, whatever the future brings…if you can trust in me, we'll make it work."
Trust in me. Three little words that scared the living hell out of her. She swallowed hard as she brought her hand to lie tenderly against his cheek. Her mind screamed at her to push him away, but her heart begged her to believe the truth it found in his beautiful brown eyes. "I want to trust you," she whispered, losing herself within his eyes.
Frank dipped his head ever so slightly, watching for the tiniest sign that she would pull away from his advances. That sign never came. His mouth grazed hers lightly, testing the waters. Instead of pulling away, Taylor molded herself against him, pushing forward and deepening the kiss. He felt her hand slip into his hair, winding it possessively around her fingers. Since he had grown out his hair, this had to have been the only time he truly liked the feel of it as it slipped through her delicate fingers.
While his senses reeled from the feel of her hands exploring his body, as well as the taste of her lips and mouth, he did a little exploring of his own. His hands slipped beneath her sweater, finding the smooth and silky skin of her back. Upwards they trailed; his thumbs skimmed along her sides until reaching the swell of her breasts. Caressing lightly through the material of her bra, he released a needy moan, moving their bodies slowly until her back came in contact with the wall.
Taylor gasped slightly when she hit the wall with a soft thud. A tiny moan of disappointment left her mouth when he eased away, ending the feel of his luscious lips sliding seductively over hers. Each pull of his lips, touch of his tongue against hers, the heady warmth of the moist cavern of his mouth, even the tantalizing scratch of his beard, was melting down every apprehension she had ever possessed. Her need for this man, in more than just the physical sense, was overwhelming her, driving her to her knees. If not for the support of his strong arms, Taylor was sure she would be a puddle on the floor.
Heavy breathing was the tempo that set her pulse. As she gazed into eyes darkened by passion, her fingers slipped from his silky tresses to flit over the collar of his shirt and down to unbutton the offending garment. Skin. She longed to see the rich olive tone of his skin, feel the firm muscles of his chest pressed beneath her palm, and take pleasure in every kiss she placed upon his heated flesh. As each button was undone, she moved the material aside to gain access to her desire. With every inch exposed to her greedy sight, Taylor proceeded to do just as she pleased. Her fingers stroked, her lips pressed and suckled, her teeth nipped and nibbled, and her tongue licked and laved over his flattened nipples until they stood erect for her attention.
Frank groaned with ecstasy as each touch, kiss, lick, and nip sent sensations of blissful pleasure coursing through his veins. He couldn't remember the last time he needed a woman so desperately. Not just any woman…only one would do. His fingers closed over the front clasp of her bra, which he unhooked easily, urging the garment aside. He filled his hands with her supple breasts. Her desire was more than evident as each peak pressed urgently against him. Hardened nubs needed no coaxing; she responded instantly to his touch.
Ettore. He heard the name moaned rapturously in his ear. It threw him for just a moment, one that nearly led him to push her away. Frank! Frank! His mind screamed, longing to hear her call his name passionately. He should stop; he knew it, his mind screamed it, but he was too far gone to listen. He batted away any semblance of reason that was left within him as he urged her to lift her arms. He eased the sweater up and over her head, tossing it aside without further thought. He bent down, burying his face against her exposed neck. He nibbled and kissed her tender flesh as she shrugged out of her bra and his fingers continued to delight in the feel of her body.
Taylor's hands went into his hair the second he captured one taut nipple between his teeth. Did he know? Was he aware that he was spiraling her into a depth she saw no way out of? No, No! her mind screamed against the ceaseless hungry moaning of her heart calling a determined Yes, Yes! When his delicious tongue swirled around the nub he held loosely between his teeth, she felt her knees buckle. She was near begging him to come inside her and they had just begun this dance. Could he possibly be feeling the same need to be inside her?
He felt her hands slide over his back and circle around to fumble momentarily with the catch on his belt. If he thought to help her with her task, the need was secondary to his greater need to pull her neglected nipple into his mouth, devouring the sweet taste of her skin and listen to the ecstatic moans that drifted over and mingled with his own. His awareness rose to the foreground when he felt her small hand slip into his now unzipped jeans, dip under the waistband of his boxer briefs and close determinedly around his hardened shaft. 'Uh…God," he moaned, letting loose of her nipple when his senses were jarred with the feel of her warm fingers encircling him. He could do nothing more than lean against her, his face buried against her neck, his hands gripping her at the shoulders as she moved over him.
He had to stop her soon; what he had, he wanted it for her. His fingers curled lightly around her wrist, urging her away from him. When he looked into her eyes, he found hers questioning him. He kissed her forehead and then the tip of her nose. "I need to slow down, my beautiful Taylor," he explained through panted whispers. Without another word, he helped her to remove the remainder of her clothing and then quickly shed his.
Taylor took in the sight of his naked body. She silently wondered how or why a man as gorgeous and breathtaking as the one who stood before her was making love to her. Did she really want an answer to that? No, she just wanted him. She went readily into his embrace and accepted as well as returned his passionate kisses. Her only protest was uttered when he eased her down onto the bed, but did not immediately follow her. Instead, he took his time, studying every curve of her body with his eyes. She wondered at her lack of embarrassment, but let it slide away as he joined her on the bed. He kissed her lips briefly, but he left her wanting his kisses as his lips trailed a moist heavenly pattern over her body. He paused again at her breasts, but did not linger, causing another soft protest. She did not want for long, as he lifted suddenly, captured her lips in a hot, torrid kiss, but then left her again as his body slid along hers, his hands resting at her hips, his breath caressing the soft curls that pointed to her heated and moist core.
"Taylor," he whispered softly as he pressed a kiss to the inside of each thigh. There was no mistaking her arousal; she was his and oh so ready for him.
She cried out, biting her bottom lip as she remembered they were not alone in the house, when she felt the softest of kisses against her throbbing folds. He was truly going to drive her mad, but it was a trip she was more than willing to take as long as he was the one doing the driving. "Please, please," she begged when his tongue darted over her, teasing her. She thought she heard him mumble a response, but she was too overwhelmed by her own mounting pleasure that she really wasn't sure. Her head tossed wildly from side to side as one had gripped his hair and the other practically tore holes into the fabric of her sheets as she wrestled with the blissful pleasure of Ettore's ministrations.
Frank sucked her hardened bud lightly, feeling her squirm beneath him. He held onto her hips with a firm grip and increased the pressure with his mouth, causing her to buck as she rode the first wave of her orgasm. He grinned wickedly to himself as he ran his tongue along her folds again, dipping inside her, only to once again to have his mouth close over her bud, until she begged him to stop.
Kissing his way back up her body, he looked down upon her impassioned face before lowering his head to kiss her tenderly. He felt her hands trail down his back and over the swell of his buttocks. "Hey," he protested without force when she roughly pinched them.
"Don't make me wait any longer," she pleaded with unshed tears glistening in her eyes. Never, ever had she needed what he was about to give her.
"Sweet, sweet, Taylor," he sighed, settling himself between her thighs. His lips claimed her possessively as his hardness slid into her welcoming center. He moaned loudly against her lips as she sheathed around him, gloving him tightly as she took his entire length into her. They fit together, hip to hip, as though they were made for each other. He lifted his head to see her face as he moved within her and noted the tear that fell from the corner of her eye. "Baby…" he paused his movement. "Is something wrong?"
She shook her head, her arms encircling him in a tender embrace. "Everything is perfect," she assured him as a smile lit her face. "Kiss me again…I cannot get enough of your luscious mouth."
He returned her smile before he granted her request and his mouth took hers in a hungry kiss. His thrusts picked up tempo and her legs wrapped around his waist as she met him, thrust per thrust. Time had lost all meaning to him as he lost himself within the ecstasy of her body and presence. His senses slammed him full throttle when he heard her cries, felt her fingers digging into the muscles of his shoulders, and felt her body tense and quake with the effects of her climax. Nothing in the world matched the intense pleasure he felt as she met her release; not even the exquisite gratification of his own climax as he went over with her, giving her all that his body and soul possessed.
Taylor wrapped her arms around him tenderly as he collapsed on top of her. The word heaven sprang into her mind as their bodies and minds calmed after such an intense experience. They continued to kiss and touch each other leisurely, neither wanting it to completely end.
Frank raised himself up onto his elbows to remove the bulk of his weight from her. He dipped down and kissed away the tear that slowly moved down her cheek. "I'm sorry that I hurt you," he whispered as he caressed her cheek with his thumb.
Smiling, Taylor lifted slightly and kissed his beard covered chin. "Just a happy tear, I promise."
He nodded and kissed her again before moving off her. Startled, he looked down at her when she put a stop to his movement and their bodies remained joined intimately.
"I'm not ready to let go," she admitted softly.
"Nor am I," he returned as she held onto him possessively. He rolled onto his back, without losing contact with her, until her body rested atop his. He pulled the sheet over them, the night air cool on their perspiration soaked bodies.
She snuggled to him, her face buried against his neck. She drank in the spicy scent of his after-shave mixed with his natural scent, which was only heightened by his recent activity. She loved his smell and took comfort in the fact she was covered in it from head to toe. It was a scent that would haunt her until her dying day.
"Potrei amarlo facilmente." ["I could easily love you."] he said, slipping into Italian.
"What did you say?" she asked dreamily.
"I said I love being with you," he lied. He mentally kicked himself for even thinking the "L" word. He could not afford it. Already he had broken every rule he would set up for a subordinate. He had decided he would find a way to clear Taylor from Creswell's activities instead of finding a way to nail Creswell through what knowledge she might possess. He didn't rightly care at the moment. With her body lying intimately on his, her hands touching every inch of his skin they could reach, her lips caressing the eagerly responsive flesh of his neck, it was all he could do to hold on to the slightest bit of his sanity.
"Ready for round two?" Taylor asked, lifting up to look into his face as she bit back the grin that threatened to appear. His growing hardness inside her was impossible for him to hide from her.
Frank looked at her through partially hooded eyes. "I think you know the answer to that question," he answered in a blasé tone.
The grin that threatened came into fruition. "I surely do, Ettore," she purred as his arms encircled her body and he rolled her neatly beneath him.
...to be continued.