Free Sensual Danger by Tina Folsom

the same to me if you touch me like that.”
    Confusion turned her forehead into a frown. “And you don’t like it? I thought men—”
    “Oh yes, men do like that. More than anything,” he interrupted. “But you know what I like even more?”
    She shook her head.
    “When your sweet cunt squeezes me, just like it squeezed my fingers. So tell me, my wanton wife, will you grant me that?”
    Her eyes dropped back to his erection, then her hand slid over it, stroking his entire length as if she was measuring him. “Yes.”
     

11
     
    Oriana watched with fascination how Nico undressed in front of her as if he’d done so a thousand times: without shame or embarrassment, while he continued to look at her with such intensity that her body heated once more.
    She still felt the shudders that had gone through her body when he’d touched her with his expert hands. Now those same hands opened the buttons of his shirt, revealing a ripped chest and flat stomach. A light dusting of dark hair covered his torso, growing stronger farther down until it built a dark line of hair that disappeared into his breeches. Almost as if it were meant as a guiding sign. She was drawn to it instinctively.
    Her eyes dipping lower, she stared at the heavy bulge that was hidden behind the fabric. Earlier, she’d felt its heat under her palm. She’d felt it pulsate against her hand and had never before felt so alive when touching it.
    When his hands went to the buttons of his flap, her mouth went dry. One-by-one, he eased the buttons open, then slowly pushed his trousers down, stepping out of them. His smalls followed while she lay there motionless. Only her chest moved: up and down in quick succession, her breathing having sped up. The heat she felt was unbearable. And she knew why: because she was staring at a naked man whose body was so perfect and beautiful, she couldn’t believe that he was her husband.
    Even before this night, she’d known what a man’s physique was like: she’d seen depictions of the statue of David, a nude male chiseled into marble by the artist Michelangelo. But Nico was different. More beautiful, more perfect, and . . . bigger.
    The hard, veined shaft that curved toward his belly was almost purple in color, attesting to the blood inside it that made it stand erect like a flag pole. Beneath it, a sac hung heavy, the oval pieces of fruit inside clearly visible.
    A groan made her lift her eyes to meet Nico’s gaze. His eyes had a golden sheen to them now, the natural green in them suddenly gone. Maybe the light from the candles and the fireplace played this optical trick on her.
    Nico took a step toward her then reached for the fabric of her negligee where it pooled at her midsection. He pulled on it, lifting her bottom in the process, and stripped her naked. Instinctively she covered her sex with her hands. But he gripped them and pulled them away.
    “Never hide anything from me,” he warned, his voice a low growl.
    The mattress dipped under his weight when he joined her on the bed. His hands pushed her thighs apart.
    Oh, God, now he would mount her, and it would be painful—no way would his massive manhood fit inside her, just the way her friend Ilaria had told her. Oriana squeezed her eyes shut and steeled herself for the inevitable.
    A heavy sigh came from Nico. “Open your eyes, Oriana.”
    She obeyed.
    “You’re still scared. That won’t do.”
    She turned her head away. “I’m sorry. I’ll bear it. I promise. Mount me and—”
    “Mount you? Is that how you still see it? That I’ll mount you like a stallion to take my pleasure without any regard for yours?”
    “You’ve already given me pleasure. It’s only right that you receive the same. I won’t resist you.”
    Nico shook his head. “That’s not how this works. I won’t mount you. Not like this.”
    “But—”
    She was unable to finish her sentence, because Nico suddenly turned onto his back and lifted her onto his body. Her legs fell