Free A Sip of You (The Epicurean Series) by Sorcha Grace

and pulled me close. I was torn between punching him and burying my head against his chest and sobbing.
    “I’m so glad you’re here.” His breath was soft and warm against my neck and a delicious shiver of yearning raced through my body. No matter how angry he made me, his touch still had the effect of bringing every part of me immediately into awareness. His lips grazed my ear teasingly. “I want to share Casa di Rosabela with you. Why don’t we have dessert upstairs? I have a special treat in mind.”
    Heat flared in me at his words, and I sighed in anticipation of what was to come. A pass it was. There’d be no more talk about William’s secrets tonight.

Five
     
    Someone had already prepared the master suite, as the lights were dimmed, romantic jazz played softly in the background, and a dozen or so candles flickered throughout. I hadn’t noticed the terrace earlier, but now the doors were open, and the soft fragrant breeze gave me the chills. A small pitcher of honey and a plate of sopapillas sprinkled with powdered sugar and cinnamon sat beside a bottle of champagne and two flutes on a side table.
    William came up behind me, his hands trailing from my waist to my shoulders. “You’re tense,” he said. “How about I give you a massage?”
    If I was tense, it was his fault, but I refrained from mentioning that. “I should be the one massaging you,” I said, turning to him. “I know you have a lot on your mind.”
    “You’re the only thing on my mind right now. Let me take care of you, Catherine. I like taking care of you.” His hands kneaded my shoulders.
    How could I argue? I was tense and tired, and a massage sounded wonderful. “Alright,” I agreed. I felt his hand slide down the zipper of my dress and I stepped out of it and stood facing him in just my kitten heels and my pretty pink lace and silk bra and thong, which I had found in my closet of couture delights.
    William’s eyes went immediately dark with desire, that molten grey color I loved. I wanted to see more of that look, so I slowly brought my hand to the front clasp of my bra and unsnapped it. I’d done a sexy fantasy striptease for him last night at the hotel and he’d just about come undone. I wanted that reaction again. I let my bra tumble to the floor, feeling my nipples harden and pucker as they were freed. William watched me as I touched myself.
    “I love your breasts, Catherine,” he said, voice husky. I could see the outline of his thick erection straining against his jeans.
    “Show me,” I said. His look said he was humoring me and my demands. He stepped closer, putting his hands on my shoulders and sliding them tantalizingly down my flesh. He cupped my breasts, his thumbs rubbing across my sensitive nipples, making them harden until it was almost painful not to be touched. His thumbs plucked and teased until I was breathless, and then he bent and replaced his fingers with his hot, wet mouth. He stroked my swollen point with his tongue and then took it in his mouth, drew it out, and sucked. Wantonly, I pushed myself against him as I ran my hand down his tight abdomen and across his hardness. I felt him twitch and pulse in response. Then his lips released and he pulled his head up and moved back, leaving me incredibly turned on.
    “Lie down on the bed,” he ordered me. My thong was damp and I knew I was already slick and slippery with arousal. I wasn’t sure how much of a massage I could take, but I was willing to try. I complied and got on the bed, leaving my shoes on. William shook his head. “On your stomach. I’m giving you a massage, remember?”
    I turned over, angling my head so I could see him behind me. He withdrew a bottle of oil from the bedside table and warmed some in his hands. Then he straddled me and began slow, deep strokes across my shoulders and back. I groaned in appreciation and in pleasure too. William had me pinned, but I couldn’t stop my hips from rocking ever so slightly back and forth, and