“How many men have fucked you?”

Shocked, she let her eyes fly open and both hands went to his wrist, the one between her legs. She tried to pull his hand away, but he was far too strong. She couldn’t sit up, couldn’t move; he had her pinned there like a butterfly stretched out on a mat.

“Stefano.”

“Answer me. How many?”

She blushed. An entire body blush. Her body had melted until she felt boneless, incapable of fighting the flood of need his fingers produced. He didn’t look away from her, his blue eyes boring into her, mesmerizing, demanding her response.

“That’s none of your business.” Her voice was low, shaky even. He was scaring her just a little bit. She was alone with him and her body had long since betrayed her. She knew she would never get over wanting him. His mouth. His touch. She felt empty, and she needed him to fill her.

“Fucking answer me now, Francesca.”

Even his voice was scary. She couldn’t imagine anyone disobeying him. He didn’t raise his voice; in fact, if anything he lowered it. She lay there, totally exposed, naked, his fingers inside of her, moving in a hard, stroking rhythm that sent her brain into total chaos.

She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue and capitulated. “One. I’ve had one man. Once.”

He stilled. Even his fingers. She writhed. Bucked her hips. Needing those strokes. She’d been close. So close and now it was all fading away. He was still in his suit, even his jacket, and she was naked, her bare butt on a marble sideboard. Her hips moved involuntarily, but he didn’t take the hint.

“One? Once? Did the fucker even get you off?” He sounded angry. As if her admission had enraged him.

Now even the fact that his finger was still pressed over her clit and another one had worked its way inside her, stretching her, causing a slow burn, couldn’t keep that feeling of terrible need going. She pulled desperately at his wrist, trying to remove his hand so she could sit up.

“Stefano, let me up.”

“Not a fucking chance in hell, Francesca. Now answer me. Did he make you come? Was it at least good for you? Did he take his time?”

“Why are you asking me?” This was so humiliating. He was pure stone, with the exception of his eyes. She hadn’t known blue could turn into a flame. That desire could be so intense it was stamped into every line of his face.

“Bambina.” He made an effort to gentle his voice. “My cock is as hard as a fucking steel spike. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m on the very edge of my control. I don’t want to hurt you and I need to know just how much you can take. I’m feeling rough, brutal even. I want to fuck you so hard you feel my cock all the way in your belly. In your throat. So please answer me, dolce cuore.”

One possessive hand swept down her body, from her neck to the vee at the junction of her legs. The finger pressing down on her clit moved. Circled. Sent waves of lightning streaking through her. Just like that she couldn’t see straight. Couldn’t move. She belonged to him. Would always belong to him.

Francesca shook her head. “No, it wasn’t good.” The admission came out a whisper. “You’ve made me feel more just now than I ever felt with him.”

There was a silence as his blue gaze moved over her body. “You’re mine, Francesca.” He made the statement quietly.

Her heart pounded. It was the way he said it. The way his blue gaze branded her, every inch of her.

“Your body is mine. No one touches you. No one else ever puts their hands or their mouth on you. I’m not easy, dolce cuore, but I’m yours. I swear that to you. I’m yours, and I’m going to make you feel so good.” He didn’t wait for a reply, bending to take her mouth.

Her heart stuttered as his declaration and kiss swept every bit of sanity out of her head. He kissed his way to the swell of her breast, sucking and nipping with his teeth until the little stings and soothing caresses had her gasping for breath and moaning low in her throat. His mouth and teeth trailed fire right down the center of her body, to her belly button, where he paused to swirl and dip his tongue, and then his mouth continued the journey, to claim every inch of her body. He sucked hard in spots, bit down until she jumped or cried out with the shocking bite of pain and then the soothing caress of his tongue. Just like that, he took her back to that place, surrounded by him, willing to be his, needing him.

He dragged her body closer to the edge, forcing her legs over his shoulders as he continued the assault on her senses, his tongue sweeping across her clit so that she nearly jumped right out of her skin. She heard her low, keening cry filling the room as his tongue began a dance over her most sensitive spot, flicking hard and then softly stroking until she thought she’d go insane with need. He began to suckle, a strong, hard pull, while his tongue continued to flick and tease until she was thrashing wildly.