Free Too Cold To Love by Doris O'Connor Page A

proceeded to run it slowly over her shoulders, down her back, over her
buttocks and back around across her quivering tummy up towards her breasts. The
soft moan as he cupped her breasts had brought him to such a state of arousal
he had had to grit his teeth to stop himself from taking her right there, hard
and fast. He grabbed her hips, to stop them from moving.
    "For God's sake, hold still, woman, or this
will all be over," had been his panted order, and Elise had frozen.
    "I'm sorry. I know I'm not very good at
this." She had trembled against him, her head downcast, her shoulders
slumped, and he had wanted to punch something at his own lack of finesse.
    He had swung her round, crowding her against the
tiled wall, and she had flushed a delightful pink all over when he took her
hand and guided it to his painfully aroused cock.
    "Does that feel as though you're doing
something wrong, baby?" He had ground the words out through his teeth as
her warm hand cupped him. The concentration on her face had created a crease
between her eyebrows. She had slowly moved her hand up and down his long length,
her moves growing bolder as he had grown to impossible dimensions in her hands.
She had watched his reactions through eyes almost black with answering need
when he had moved one hand between her legs and stroked her in turn. Faster and
faster their movements had grown, until she had cried out, her hand a vise-like
grip on his cock as her own climax took her. She would have buckled had his
body not been holding her up. He had spun her around and lifting her hips had
driven his cock into the tight haven of her pussy, seeking his own release. One
hand had gone round her waist; the other had supported them both against the
wall. Her hands had joined his against the slippery tiles as she had matched
his movements with increasing intensity. The wet sounds of their bodies
slapping together had joined in with the spray of the water, cascading over
them both. Sensations had assaulted him as he had thrust deeper. Her hungry
pussy had sucked him deeper, and when she had clenched around him, it had sent
him over the edge with a string of Italian curses.
    He had been too fast, damn it. Still joined
together he had used his fingers to rub and tease her clit until she had
quivered around his deeply buried cock, calling his name in a breathy whisper.
    They had stayed in the shower until the water
ran cold, soaping every inch of each other's skin. Marco had picked her up,
wrapped her into one of the fluffy bath towels, and had deposited her back on
the bed. By the time he had dried himself and returned to the bedroom she had
been fast asleep, curled up on her side. The towel had slipped slightly to
expose one creamy breast, her hair a damp tangle on the pillow. He had slid in
next to her, itching to wake her up, but she had clearly needed her rest.
    Looking at her now, he still couldn't believe
that he had been her first. Dannazioni , if only he'd known he would have
been gentler with her, that first time at least. Not that she seemed to have
minded, quite the contrary. He smiled remembering her untutored and passionate
responses to him. Nothing faked or artificial in her reaction, unlike... Elise
whimpered in her sleep. Marco made himself relax the vise-like grip of his
fingers that remembering the bitch of his ex-wife had provoked.
    One hand went through his hair, and he shook his
head in disgust. It was his wedding night, damn it, and still that bitch
haunted him. He resolutely pushed all thoughts of Jennifer out of his mind. He
would deal with her soon enough when his pasticcino and he came back
from their honeymoon. A honeymoon she knew nothing of yet. He couldn't wait to
tell her when she woke up, or perhaps he would wake her like she never had been
before. One of his large hands settled on her breast, and his smile turned
wicked at the immediate response even in her sleep. Si , he was really
going to enjoy telling her, but not right