by Monica James
I press the tip of my cock into her, hissing the moment she opens up and allows me deeper in. I keep my eyes glued to her the entire time, watching for any signs of discomfort. But she nods. I gently push into her and as I feel something resisting, I know this is the part that’ll probably hurt the most.
“You okay?” I croak. She nods once again.
Bending low, I take her nipple into my mouth while massaging over her inflamed clit in a slow circling motion. She groans low while squeezing her eyes shut. I push and then pull out, getting her used to the sensation. When I feel her body soften, I drive forward in one fluid movement, breaking through the thin veil of her virginity. Her mouth parts and she cries out in a passionate mewl.
Her nipple pops free as I smile because she’s now mine. My alpha howls in possession.
“Almost there,” I reassure her. “Are you still okay?”
Her cheeks are flushed and her hair is a wild, tangled mess, and if that isn’t the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen, then I don’t know what is. “Yes.”
That’s all the encouragement I need and I propel my hips forward, filling her to the brim. She cries out, her face scrunching up in pain. I attempt to quickly pull out, but she surprises me by wrapping her arms around my lower back, stopping me from moving an inch.
“Keep going. It feels good,” she confesses.
“Okay. I’ll go slow.” I pull out and then plunge back in, her wetness providing all the lubrication I need.
I rock into her with measured, deliberate strokes, allowing her muscles to accept me. When she relaxes, I pick up the tempo and hook her leg around my waist to sink in at a deeper angle. I’m unable to tear my eyes off of the way my cock is pumping in and out of her.
She feels fucking incredible and from this moment forward, I know I want no other pussy but hers. It’s not just the feeling of being inside of her, it’s the feeling of being connected to her—it’s just how sex, how making love should be. This is what I’ve been missing. Not the sex, but the emotion. She is the reason why they call it making love.
As I increase my strokes, Maddy thrashes her head from side to side, her body beginning to learn this unfamiliar dance. Each time she clenches around me, I feel it all the way to my balls, and I’m embarrassingly close to coming. But I’ll be damned if I blow before she does.
“Faster,” she whispers, licking her lips as she presses the heel of her foot into my ass.
I don’t want to hurt her, but the moment I hear faster, my hips begin pumping furiously. I reach down and hold onto her waist, helping her find her rhythm so she can work her way up and down my cock freely. She milks my dick, squeezing and throbbing around me.
“I love you!” she screams, the sound like music to my starved ears. I don’t care that she’s said it in the throes of passion because I know she means every word.
“I love you too, angelo. So much.”
I can feel the friction is still a little rough, so I decide to give her some verbal encouragement. “Your pussy feels incredible.”
A strangled groan gets caught in her throat as she moves in sync with my faster pace.
“Does it still feel good?”
She nods, trapping her lower lip between her teeth. “More.”
I know she can take it, so I thrust my hips, pistoning into her over and over again before she screams out loudly. “Oh my fucking God! Faster.”
I comply, wanting nothing more than to please her.
As I rub my fingers over her cleft in a wide circle, I can feel she’s close and desperate to come. So I pull out quickly, while she looks up, confused by what I’m doing.
“Trust me,” I gently reassure her.
Still on her back, I turn her slightly to the right. I kneel while straddling her right leg and curling her left leg around my left flank. This opens up her pussy and I drive in, the angle allowing deeper penetration for us both. This position also allows us close eye contact, and I want that. I want to assure her that it’s okay to let go.
As I thrust into her over and over and over again, I insert two fingers into her mouth, which she suckles and tongues hungrily. Pulling them out, I rub the moisture over her erect nipples, while she screams out, throwing her head back violently.
“I love you,” she sobs. “I fucking love you!”
Her body suddenly convulses around me, squeezing and sucking me into her warmth and wetness in one heady explosion. The intense feeling has me blowing in seconds and we ride our release out together. I collapse on top of her in a very ungraceful manner, unable to hold up my own weight. I’ve come a thousand times before, but never like this.
“Are you all right?” I ask when I’m able to catch my breath.
“Yes,” she whispers, her entire body trembling from head to toe.
Lifting my head, I peer down at her, unable to believe how lucky I am. Kissing her quickly, I untangle our limbs and roll off of her and make my way into the en suite to dispose of the condom.
If this was anyone but Maddy, I would be thinking of any excuse to hightail it out of here, but all I can think of is going back out there and holding her until we both fall asleep. And then I want to wake up beside her and do it all again.
I walk back out into the bedroom to see Maddy sound asleep on top of the tangled sheets. Taking a moment, I appreciate her entire being. This beautiful creature is mine, and I’ll do everything in my power to never let her go.
21
Ti Amo
DIXON
I wake to one of the best feelings in the world. I wake beside Madison. I also wake beside Madison while she’s giving me a gentle hand job.
Last night exceeded all my expectations. She gave me her virginity and now she’s giving me a hand job. I love having a girlfriend.
“Good morning,” she huskily whispers when she realizes I’m awake.
“It most certainly is.”
“I hope you don’t mind,” she says, palming my shaft.
“Not at all. In fact, I insist.” When I open my eyes and witness her beauty for the first time today, my insides turn to mush. “How are you feeling?”
“Good,” she shyly replies.
“Good,” I counter, unsure if she wants to talk about last night.
“You were right.”
“About?” I grit my teeth as she begins stroking faster and faster.
“About it not hurting the way you do it. It felt good. Real good.” She emphasizes her point by rubbing her finger over my sensitive head.
“Well, I’m glad it was good for you because it was fan-fucking-tastic for me.” I falter over my words because all I can focus on is her hand on my cock.
“This amazing part of you seems to make a potty mouth out of us both.” She tugs harder and harder.
“I’ve always been a fuck…potty mouth.” She is killing me. “If I recall correctly, you didn’t mind my potty mouth all over your pretty lips last night.”
“Well, that is true. Looks like I found a nickname for your—” She blushes, unable to finish off her sentence.
“Hey! Why does my cock get a nickname and I don’t?”
She leans in close and whispers, “Because when I’m around him, all I want to do is say fuck.”
As if on cue, my dick pulsates, happy to lay claim to that title. “I can live with that.”
“Dixon?”
I grunt in response as words have finally escaped me.
“I really…can we…do you have any condoms left?” she finally spits out.
I nod with a grin. “I just happen to have two more left.”
When her face falls, I don’t understand why. She explains her response a second later. “Would it be okay if we visited a drugstore this afternoon then?”
My cheeky, cheeky vixen. “Yes, ma’am.”
Talk of condoms and nicknames for my dick has me gently pushing her hand away and jumping up to hunt through my wallet for my golden ticket. As I roll it onto my shaft, I see Maddy watching closely. “You want to do the
next one?”
She blushes but nods and then quickly looks away.
When I’m suited up, I attempt to go down on her, but she stops me by placing her hand on my shoulder. “I’m already wet,” she confesses.
I growl low, those words like gospel to my rampant brain. As I insert a finger, I feel that her words are in fact true. It doesn’t take long until she’s squirming beneath me, begging. She pulls a pained face when I slowly work my way into her.
“You sore?”
She nods.
I automatically draw my hips back, attempting to pull out. But she stops me. “Don’t you dare. Just go slow.” I smile, as it seems she’s just as addicted as I am.
When I’m sheathed all the way in, I compare the feeling to total utopia. “Maddy…” I grunt, beginning the dance I’m predicting we’ll dance many times to come.
“Hmm?” she hums, her mouth parting as she draws in passion-filled breaths.
“Happy…birthday.” I thrust into her so hard the force drives her up the bed.
She whimpers but surprises me as she grins while hooking her leg around my waist. As she raises her hips, I begin to move. “Best fucking birthday ever.”
I smirk. Looks like my nickname is an appropriate one after all.
* * *
I’m checking over my emails while Maddy is on the phone to Mary. I’m trying not to eavesdrop, but it’s hard not to when I’m the topic of conversation.
“Yes, Lamb, I used protection. Uh huh. I don’t know. Like twice.”
Twice? What was twice? If she’s talking about orgasms, then what about the time I went down on her twenty minutes ago?
Deciding to put myself out of my misery, I slip in my ear buds and listen to some jazz while concentrating on my emails. Most are notes from Susanna keeping me up to date. However, there are two messages which catch my eye.
One is from Chad, forwarding me the details for the Gerald Harriet Fellowship Award night which will be held early December. The other is from Sunnyfields Hospital, inviting me to a family fun day which will take place in a couple of weeks.
Although I have been visiting my father once a week, he still hates my guts. The only time I get a glimmer of a response is when Maddy is with me. It almost looks like he’s listening a quarter of the time. But when it’s just him and me, I may as well be invisible.
I jolt up when I feel a hand on my shoulder. “Sorry,” Maddy apologizes as I slip out my ear buds.
“It’s okay. How was Mary?” I ask, spinning my chair around to face her. When her cheeks flush, I decide I don’t want to know.
She looks at my laptop and smiles. “That looks like fun. Are you going?”
I turn back around to look at the invite. “I don’t know. It would feel kind of weird going, considering my father wishes I were dead.”
“Don’t say that. No, he doesn’t. I’ve seen small improvements. You just have to keep trying,” she encourages.
I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “He’s a stubborn old fool.”
“Look who’s talking.” She giggles when I turn over my shoulder and raise an eyebrow.
“So would you like to come with me?”
“To the family day?”
I nod and swivel my chair around.
“Um…”
When she hesitates, I quickly backtrack. “If you don’t want to, I understand.”
She quickly shakes her head. “No, it’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s just…” She pulls her sleeves over her hands. “It’s a family day.”
“And?”
“And I’m not technically family.”
Unable to help myself, I lunge forward and draw her onto my lap. I brush back her hair so I can look into her eyes. “You’re my family, therefore you’re also my father’s. If you’d like to attend, then the invitation stands. If it’s too weird, then I totally understand.”
“Do you think they’ll have those mini pigs in blankets like they did the last time we visited?” is her reply.
I smile. “I’ll make sure of it.”
She nestles into my arms, sighing contentedly when I slip my hands over her ass. “So, did you want to go get something to eat? It’s your birthday. We can’t waste it indoors when it’s such a nice day out.”
She seems to weigh up my question. “Maybe we could take some of the leftover food and a bottle of Frankcati ...”
I laugh and correct her. “It’s Frascati. I think it’s time I taught you some Italian.”
She pulls out of my hold and rolls her eyes. “Anyway, Mr. Smarty Pants, like I was saying, maybe we could take the leftover food and have a picnic. I saw some gorgeous spots on our drive yesterday.”
“Sounds like a plan.” I playfully smack her ass as she jumps up. “How about you put something together while I finish up in here?”
She nods. Her happiness is contagious and I can’t help but smile as she skips off to the kitchen.
However, I look up from my laptop when she comes into the room a moment later. “Maybe you could teach me something easy in Italian? Just to start me off.” As she swallows nervously, I wonder why.
“Sure.” I slip off my glasses. “What would you like to know?”
She toes the carpet before replying, “I love you. How do I say I love you?”
I remain calm, understanding her sudden nerves. “Ti amo.”
She nods and mimes the words as if trying to get her tongue around them. With a deep breath, she locks her eyes with mine. “Ti amo. Ti amo, Dixon.”
The phrase has never sounded sweeter.
Standing, I walk over to her. “E ti amo, Madison.”
I’ve never seen her happier than right now. “Maybe you could teach me another?”
“Of course. What would you like to know?” I ask, brushing back her hair.
When she toys with her bottom lip, I know what she’s thinking. “Where’s the nearest drugstore?”
With a smirk, I reply the only way I can. “Non abbastanza vicino.”
Not close enough.
22
Words I Don’t Understand
MADISON
It’s our last night in Rome. Although I’m sad to leave, thinking back over my time here, I don’t regret a thing.
This trip has been one of many indulgences—food, wine, sights, and sex. I never in a million years thought I could add sex to that list, but thanks to Dixon, I can.
The night we made love was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. An act I had been so afraid of ended up feeling entirely heartfelt and pure. I’ll never forget what Dylan did to me. It’s a part of who I am. But every time I feel Dixon inside of me, the ugliness and fear is replaced with nothing but love.
The last couple of days, however, I’ve noticed Dixon has been a little off. Every time his phone chirps, I watch him hold his breath, only letting it out once he checks who’s on the other end. I’m guessing he’s anxious to go back to work, as I know he’ll be busy preparing for the award ceremony. Or maybe he just doesn’t want to leave this paradise behind either.
Whatever the reason, I’m going to make our last night here as memorable as possible.
We’ve decided to eat in and call it an early night as we have a 10 a.m. flight tomorrow morning. Taking yet another photo of the Italian countryside I so love, I quickly post it on my Facebook page, as Mary has been living vicariously through me.
We’ve done everything I could have ever asked for, and then some. We’ve visited every church, ruin, and museum there is to see in Rome, as Dixon didn’t want me to miss a thing. My favorite experience of all, however, was taking one special photo in front of the Trevi Fountain. My profile picture is currently that photograph, and it’s of Dixon kissing me tenderly, his hand cupping my cheek.
I have so many incredible photos to look back on and remind me of a time I’ll never forget. But now, it’s time to make new memories.
I straighten out my red dress and fasten m
y hair into a high ponytail. Applying a light shade of lipstick and adjusting my beautiful pendant, I’m ready to go. I bounce down the stairs and find Dixon in the living room watching TV. He looks up and smiles when he sees me.
“You look beautiful.”
“Thank you.” I lounge down on the sofa next to him, curling my feet underneath me. “What are you watching?” I ask, looking at some movie flickering on the screen.
“Nothing really,” he replies, passing me the remote.
That heavy feeling is back, and I don’t know why. “Is everything all right? You look…sad?” I settle for, as I can’t pinpoint what’s wrong, I just know something isn’t right.
Dixon sighs, confirming my suspicions. “I suppose I am a little sad. I’ve had such a wonderful time. I really don’t want to leave.”
“I know, but we have to.”
“Do we?” he unexpectedly asks, turning to look at me.
I smile, thinking he’s joking around. But when he continues staring at me seriously, I know he’s not kidding. “You really want to stay? What about work? Your home? Your friends?”
He shrugs, gently reaching out to touch my cheek. “They’re all things that can be found here.”
“You’re serious?” I ask incredulously.
He nods.
“What’s keeping you in New York? Besides your mom and Sebastian?”
“School,” I reply. “Interns are coming up soon, and I have a good shot at getting into a really good hospital. And what about Mary? I promised we’d never be apart.”
“Mary could always visit. And you could get a transfer. I could help get you into a really good hospital here,” he counters, appearing to have thought this all through.
Why does he want to leave New York? What isn’t he telling me?
“I can’t leave. It’s my home,” I reply honestly. “I finally feel like I belong there.”
My answer has disappointed him. “I understand, forget I said anything.” He returns his gaze back to the TV, indicating this conversation is over. But I want to know what’s sparked this suggestion.