She laughs, a soft, musical sound that does strange things to my heart. "Antonio, I don't think 'gentleman' is the word I would use to describe you."
"No?" I say, my ego pricked. "What word would you use?"
"Insatiable," she says, her eyes dark with desire. "Relentless. Predatory."
I growl, a low, guttural sound that I can't contain. "You have no idea."
She leans in, her lips a breath away from mine. "Show me."
I close the distance, my lips crashing down on hers. The kiss is raw, hungry, a desperate need to taste her, to consume her, to lose myself in her. Her arms wrap around my neck, her fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me closer, deepening thekiss.
I'm lost, completely and utterly lost in her, in the taste of her, in the feel of her, in the sheer, unadulterated pleasure of being with her.
A sharp, knock on the door breaks the spell.
We pull apart, both of us breathing heavily, our foreheads pressed together. "Fuck," I mutter.
Elsa laughs, a breathless, husky sound. "I think that's our food."
"Yeah," I say, reluctantly pulling away from her. "I'll get it. Don't move."
I stand and adjust myself, trying to discreetly tame my erection. I take a deep breath, trying to compose myself, to regain some semblance of control before I open the door.
It's no use. The sight of her, lounging on my sofa in my shirt, her hair a mess, her lips swollen from my kisses, her eyes dark with desire, is enough to undo me all over again.
"Antonio," she says, her voice a husky purr. "The door."
"Right," I say, tearing my eyes away from her. "The door."
I walk to the door, my movements stiff, awkward. I take another deep breath, forcing myself to focus on the task at hand. I open the door to a young man in a crisp, white uniform, a cart laden with covered dishes beside him.
He gives me a polite, professional smile. "Yourroom service, sir."
"Bring it in," I say, my voice rougher than I intended.
Then I think of him walking in and seeing the woman on the sofa, and a wave of possessiveness washes over me, a primal urge to shield her from prying eyes, to keep her all to myself.
I stop the cart with a hand.
"On second thought, I've got it," I say.
"Yes, Mr. Conti," he quietly. "Just ring when you'd like us to remove it."
He steps back, nods his head, and leaves.
I pull the cart into the room and push it over to the sofa, my eyes never leaving Elsa's. She's watching me, her head tilted, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips.
"Insatiable," she says again, her voice a low, sultry murmur.
"You have no idea," I repeat, and then I'm on her again, my hands on her waist, pulling her up, my lips finding hers in a desperate, hungry kiss.
She melts against me, her body pliant, her mouth opening under mine, her tongue tangling with mine in a slow, sensual dance.
I break the kiss, my forehead resting against hers. "We need to eat."
"We do," she agrees, her breath warm on my face. "But I'm still wearing too many clothes."
I look down at the silk shirt that's doing a poor job of hiding her perfect body, and my cock twitches in response. "So you are," I murmur.