and the sight that greeted him filled his heart with pride. Her lips were parted, her eyes dark with lust and desire. “Oh, yes, Isabella, yes!”
“Fuck me!” she whispered. Her words did him in. Never had he heard a lady utter such words, but when they came over her lips, he couldn’t help but rejoice. His balls burned and tightened at the knowledge that she gained as much pleasure from their coupling as he did.
Dropping his hand to her pussy, he pressed his thumb onto her pearl. The widening of her eyes told him he was reigniting her sensitive flesh. “Yes, once more. Let me feel you milk my cock.”
Her interior muscles clenched a second later, and his control shattered. With hot and eager spurts, he filled her tight pussy with his seed, pumping into her again and again, before he allowed himself to collapse on top of her, bracing himself on his elbows.
Chapter Seven
Isabella rested her head in the crook of his neck and breathed in his spicy scent. Her entire body felt boneless. If somebody asked her to get up right now, she was sure she’d be incapable of moving even one limb.
Raphael turned his face to her and pressed a soft kiss on her forehead. It surprised her. She hadn’t expected him to have a tender side.
“And now I’d like to know what in hell you were thinking when you jumped into the canal to save me,” he said in a calm voice.
She jolted and tried to pull away from him, but his strong arms kept her imprisoned.
Isabella sighed. She didn’t want to be reminded of what could have happened, how he’d almost slipped through her arms and drowned. She would have never experienced the kind of pleasure he’d given her in the last hour.
“Please,” he added softly.
She pulled herself up and looked at him. “I couldn’t let you drown.”
“But you didn’t even know me,” he protested.
“It didn’t matter.”
“Why, Isabella? You must have had a reason.”
She swallowed back a tear that threatened to push to the surface. “My husband drowned in the canal.”
Shock registered in his eyes. Then he pulled her close to him and cupped the back of her head, pressing her against the crook of his neck. “Oh, my angel, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to stir up bad memories.”
“It happened almost a year ago. And I’m fortunate in many ways. But …” Her voice became thick with the threatening tears.
“You miss him,” Raphael whispered into her hair.
She nodded.
“Tell me what happened.”
“Giovanni was good to me, generous and kind. He taught me how to run his business. I think he did it merely because it amused him, not because he knew how much it meant to me. He spent lots of time with me, despite the fact that he and Massimo often went out without taking me along or telling me where they were going.”
“Massimo?” Raphael asked.
“Giovanni’s cousin. They were close. But then, about a month before my husband’s death, something changed. He started avoiding Massimo, made excuses when he came by. I had to lie for Giovanni when he didn’t want to see him. He avoided me too. Suddenly, he didn’t want to share my bed anymore. He stayed away all night. I think he might have had a mistress.”
The thought still hurt, even after all this time. “He lost interest in me. He stopped loving me.”
Isabella felt Raphael’s hand on her chin as he tilted her face up to make her look at him. “I can’t imagine how any man could ever stop loving you. I’ve never met a more lovable creature than you, my angel.” He planted a tender kiss on her lips.
“You flatter me, but I can’t ignore the truth. He was gone almost every night, until that one cold December night. Nobody knows what really happened, but by the time two footmen managed to pull him out of the canal, his lungs had already filled with water, and his heart had stopped beating. They said they were lucky to even find his body. Had his coat not gotten tangled up in some fishing hooks that hung over a
Jean-Pierre Alaux, Noël Balen