Carpathian 00 - The Scarletti Curse

leaves. "In truth, I cannot say I am sorry that you chose me to be your bride. I dream of a time when our people are happy and unafraid in the palazzo, a time we can get to know one another without interference from the outside world."
    His mouth drifted lazily over her silky hair, found her ear, and tasted her skin for a moment while his hands moved up her narrow ribs to settle just below the soft weight of her breasts. "The outside world is conspiring to keep me away from you," he whispered softly, his breath a warm temptation. "But you know, piccola, there is no one out here to interfere with us now."

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    She could feel the heat of his body, the way he thickened and hardened, pressing tightly against her.
    Nicoletta smiled at his reaction and pressed even closer to him. She tilted her head back and moved restlessly, an invitation to his wandering hands. It was like that with him. He touched her, and her body seemed to go up in flames. It wasn't simply a matter of wanting him to touch her; she needed him to touch her. She seemed to catch fire, to melt each time he looked at with his desire flaring in his black eyes.
    Daringly, she reached behind her to circle his neck with one arm, bringing his head down to her. His mouth found the pulse beating frantically in her neck. He found each of the bruises on her throat, his mouth warm and soothing, hot and exciting. Giovanni inhaled the clean scent of her. She seemed untamed and free, elusive, a part of the mystery of the night, yet she burned for him when his teeth scraped her soft skin and his hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs caressing her nipples into hard peaks through the thin cloth of her blouse.
    The air was crisp, the wisps of fog weaving a shimmering screen of white lace around them. The shadows in the trees lengthened and grew until it was nearly impossible to see into the forest interior.
    They could hear the distant crash of the waves against the cliffs. Night creatures were stirring, insects singing. In the distance a wolf howled, a lonely, eerie sound. Another wolf answered it, strangely intimate in the gathering darkness. A wildness. It spread from the forest to catch them in its thrall.
    Giovanni whispered something she couldn't understand, his hands finding her blouse and pulling it from her body, allowing the material to flutter to the bushes. His hands cupped lush flesh as he bent his head to the hollow of her shoulder. There was something very erotic about standing nearly naked in the night, her body leaning into his, her breasts held possessively right out under the gathering stars. Nicoletta's breath caught in her throat. It was shocking how erotic she felt, how sinfully excited. She was fairly certain this was one of those things good girls didn't do.
    But it didn't matter. Nothing mattered except the way her breasts swelled into aching flesh at his touch.
    She wanted more. She wanted to know all the ways to please him, to make him need her the way she needed him. The ache started deep inside, spreading, blossoming into a firestorm as it raced through her bloodstream. His mouth was hot, dancing tongues of flame moving over her bare skin.
    Nicoletta held him to her, closing her eyes to give herself up to the pure pleasure his hands and mouth created. His teeth tugged gently at her ear. "I want you to take off your skirt, cara" he whispered. His hands dropped from her breasts so that he could turn her around to face him and drink in her beauty.
    His gaze was hot as it traveled over her. Nicoletta stood staring up at him, her dark eyes enormous in the moonlight. He could read both the shyness and the wanting. "I want to see how beautiful you are," he encouraged.
    She reached up slowly and loosened the knot in her long hair, allowing the silken skeins to cascade in waves to her waist. The action lifted her breasts, and the silvery moonlight cast loving shadows on her body, so that he could barely breathe at the sight of her. She smiled then, watching his reaction.
    Nicoletta moved a few steps from him, just out of arm's reach, and, still watching him, she slipped off her skirt. She heard his gasp, an explosion of breath as it left his lungs. She lifted her arms toward the moon in a kind of homage, so that her skin gleamed invitingly in the muted light, and her hair caressed her body like fingers. "Is this what you want, husband? I wish to learn to please you."
    The silence