Outside the windows, past the balcony, the sun was beginning to set, leaving a soft rose hue over the lush, warm Venetian buildings.
Reaching out, Alex pulled the diamond tiara slowly from her dark hair. As the pins disappeared, the long, translucent white veil, too, dropped to the floor. She shivered.
Cupping her face with his hands, Alex lowered his head and kissed her.
His lips burned hers, moving languorously, as if he had all the time in the world. His hands moved in her hair, stroking down her back. Her lips parted as he deepened the kiss, taking command, luring her tongue with his own.
Slowly, he unzipped the back of her wedding dress. It fell in a crumple of silk, gleaming on the marble floor with a pearlescent sheen. Pulling back, he looked down at her with wide eyes, his lips slightly parted.
The girl at the lingerie shop had practically forced her to buy this. “Perfect for a wedding night, signorina! It will make your sposo mad with desire!” That had sounded good to Rosalie, so she’d taken it, in spite of her blushes: a strapless white silk demi bra, which she saw now barely contained her overflowing, pregnancy-swollen breasts. Beneath her prominent belly, matching white silk panties clung to her hips. A white lace garter belt held up thigh-high sheer white stockings, which had seemed unnecessary in the warm Italian summer, but the salesgirl had insisted were absolutely necessary.
And now, looking at her bridegroom, Rosalie agreed. Because the expression on Alex’s face was one so overwhelmed with shock and desire, it was almost comical.
“What,” he breathed, “is that?”
“Lingerie,” she said shyly, peeking at him. “Do you like it?”
With a low growl, he gripped her shoulders, pulling her into his arms, plundering her mouth with his own. A soft sigh came from the back of her throat as she wrapped her arms around him tightly, pulling him down against her.
He yanked off his tuxedo jacket, then dropped i
t to the floor. His antique cuff links came next. As he unbuttoned his shirt, she placed her hands against his bare chest, feeling the warmth of his skin over his powerful muscles, his flat belly, laced with dark hair. The shirt fell to the floor.
Gently, almost reverently, Alex lowered her to the bed.
Climbing beside her, where she reclined against the pillows, he kissed her. Slowly, softly, his hands caressed her, working his way down her body with the lingering stroke of his touch.
“My wife at last,” he whispered huskily against her skin, and the words burned through her, nearly as much as his touch.
She wrapped her hands around him, exploring the muscles of his back, feeling the strength of his biceps as he cupped her full breasts over the tactile silk bra, running his thumbs over her taut, aching nipples. Moving the fabric aside, he stroked the sensitive reddish-pink tips with his fingertips. Her lips parted in a silent gasp as he touched where no man ever had before.
Reaching beneath her, he easily unhooked the clasp of her bra, and the white silk fell to the bed, fluttering like a flag of surrender. He bent his head, and she felt the heat of his breath, then the electricity of his lips on her nipple as he suckled her, drawing her deeply into his warm, wet mouth. She moaned aloud as pleasure crackled down the length of her body. Tension coiled low and deep in her belly.
He moved to her other breast, cupping the weight with his large hand, squeezing it softly as he drew the large, aching nipple deeply into his mouth. She moaned again as he stroked her body. Lifting his head to plunder her lips, he ran his hands down her bare shoulders, through her hair tumbling over the pillow, then very gently over the swell of her pregnant belly.
Her hands traced the contours of his powerful chest, down his flat belly to the waistband of his tuxedo trousers. She felt the hardness of him beneath, pressing against her. He froze.
With an intake of breath, she looked up, her cheeks burning. “I...I don’t know what I’m doing.”
He cupped her cheek, his dark eyes burning through her. “You are wrong, cara,” he said huskily. “You’re driving me mad.” Lowering his head, he kissed her naked shoulder, whispering against her skin, “Your every touch intoxicates me...”
Moving down her body, his fingertips lightly caressed her arms, her belly, to the edge of her white silk panties. They paused, then continued moving downward, to her hips, and her thighs beneath the white silk stockings. He unhooked the white lace garters, one by one, then slowly peeled the stockings like a whisper down her legs, first one, then the other. After he dropped them to the floor, he kissed the hollow of one foot, then the other. She shivered at the feel of his lips in that sensitive spot.
He moved slowly back up her legs, kissing as he traveled, and she felt the caress of his lips, of his hot breath, at the hollows of her knees, then her tender thighs, then higher still...
He unhooked her white bridal garter belt from around her waist. His hands moved over her silk panties, stroking over the fabric. Then he pulled those, too, slowly down her legs, tossing them aside.
She was finally naked on the bed. Her eyes squeezed tightly shut. Her breath came in sharp little gasps as he moved away from her. For the briefest moment, she felt nothing but cool air where the heat of his powerful body had been.
Then he lowered himself back against her. She felt his muscular legs, rough with dark hair, moving against her smooth ones, and she realized that he, too, was now naked.
“Rosalie.”
She opened her eyes. His hard, handsome face looked down at her in the shadowy bedroom. His dark gaze burned her like fire. Stroking back her hair from her forehead, he gave her a wicked smile.
“You’re mine,” he whispered. He stroked down her full breasts, tweaking one of her taut, sensitive nipples, gently caressing her enormous belly. He kissed her forehead, her eyelids. He whispered against her trembling lips, “Every part of you belongs to me...”
Wonderingly, she stroked his bare chest. She marveled at the feel of him beneath her palm, his flat nipples, the tight muscles, like steel beneath satin. Her hand moved slowly downward, echoing his earlier exploration of her body. She traced the line of dark hair that arrowed down his flat belly, and down further still. She paused, then with a deep breath, she explored there, as well.