Chapter 71 Caught In His Frame (3)

• Francesca’s moans tapered into a soft, ragged breath, her fingers loosening in Alessandro’s hair as she pulled back, her hazel eyes glinting with a mix of mischief and hunger. She slid off him, her oiled thighs brushing against his jeans as she dismounted the chaise, leaving a faint sheen on the denim. Alessandro propped himself up on his elbows, chest heaving, his lips still tingling with the taste of her skin. “Che fai?” he rasped, voice thick with want. (What are you doing?)
• She didn’t answer—not with words. Instead, she dropped to her knees beside the chaise, her hands moving to his waistband with a purpose that made his stomach clench. Her fingers popped the button of his jeans, the zipper rasping loud in the quiet studio as she tugged them down, boxers and all, in one smooth motion. His dick sprang free, huge and heavy, pulsing with the heat she’d stoked in him. Alessandro sucked in a sharp breath, the cool air hitting him a stark contrast to the fire in his veins.
• Francesca’s lips curved into a wicked little smile as she took him in, her gaze flicking up to meet his. “Mio Dio,” she murmured, voice low and appreciative. (My God.) She leaned in, slow and deliberate, pressing a soft, teasing kiss to the tip—her lips warm, plush, and just wet enough to make him twitch. His hands fisted the velvet beneath him, a groan rumbling in his throat as she lingered there, her breath ghosting over him.