by Sam Mariano
“If you need to be drunk to have sex with me, I don’t think you should have sex with me.”
I’m frustrating her. I wish I could stop, but I just respect her too goddamn much. “No, not you,” she says, lightly shoving my shoulder. “Don’t make me talk about this.”
“Sweetheart, I haven’t the faintest idea what the hell we’re talking about,” I tell her honestly.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve had sex and when I did, it was frankly traumatic. I’m terrified to do it again. But I want to, with you. But I need the alcohol. It’s important. It makes me brave.”
It breaks my goddamn heart that she thinks she needs to be brave to have sex. Trailing the back of my hand down her jawline, I beg her, “Please tell me his name.”
She shakes her head, still refusing, even with all this alcohol in her veins. “He doesn’t matter anymore. I don’t want to think about that. I just want to think about you.” She leans in again, her perfect lips brushing mine, trying to entice me. God help me if this woman ever sets her mind to convincing me to do anything I shouldn’t—I’d torch everything in sight and salt the fucking earth if she used those sweet lips of hers to convince me.
“Fuck,” I murmur.
“Can we stay?” she asks.
“You think you can get away with that?”
Nodding, she says, “If he hasn’t noticed me missing by now, he shouldn’t notice at all. He’s usually at the gym or sleeping when I eat breakfast, so he’ll just think he missed me.”
I’m a solid 90 percent sure this is a bad idea, but since there’s just about nothing in the whole world I want more, I’m gonna do it anyway.
Before I can change my mind, I grab my wallet and pull out a few bills, tossing them on the table. Then I grab Francesca’s hand and lead her through the restaurant, back to the metal stairs with the flower petals sprinkled along the edge, and back up into the city. I hail us a cab and hustle inside, hoping common sense won’t catch up with me.
My heart’s beating in my throat like I’m the one who hasn’t had sex in years, but I’m terrified I’m about to fuck things up. Normally I don’t move slow like this—I’m an adult, for fuck’s sake—but given the unique difficulty of my relationship with Francesca, not to mention her extreme vulnerability due to the trauma of her only serious relationship, it also sort of worked for us. Of course I want to have sex with her, but I want her to be ready for it.
I don’t know if she ever will be, though. I don’t know how valid her argument back there was; I’ve never been traumatized by my only sexual experience, so I have no idea if more time with me would make her less afraid of it. Maybe the only way is to be gentle with her, to show her that sex isn’t something to fear.
I’m going to kill that sadistic motherfucker. I may not be able to physically kill him yet, but I want to kill his memory. I don’t want him to be a part of her last intimate memory. I don’t want her to ever think of him again. I want to dive into her heart, find every corner that motherfucker polluted, and blast him out of there. I want to replace every bad memory of that bastard with a good memory of me.
I want to heal all her hurts, and then I want to make sure no one ever gets a chance to hurt her again.
---
I don’t expect Francesca to make the first move, but she does.
We’re back at the hotel, safely locked inside away from the world, and now she’s backing me up toward the bed. Her hands are braced on my chest. I don’t think she knows what to do with me, but I’ll let her figure it out. My natural instinct is to take charge, but given what she said earlier, I try to hold back. Let her set the pace.
She takes a step back, looking me over. “Take your clothes off.”
Quirking an eyebrow in surprise, I murmur, “Yes, ma’am,” and start peeling off my clothing. She looks unsure now that she’s said it, but I strip down anyway.
Her brown eyes move slowly over every lean inch of me, her fingers reaching out and dragging along the chiseled edges of my abdominal muscles.
“Jesus, Salvatore,” she says, shaking her head. At least then she gives me an unapologetically impressed look. Her fingers continue to explore my torso and she tells me, “This is… I need to touch all of this.”
I laugh a little, watching her face as she continues to touch me. “It’s all yours,” I inform her. “Touch whatever you like.”
Flashing me a little grin, she says, “I plan to.”
My smile disappears as she bends down, brushing her lips against my stomach. Now her tongue darts out, tracing every edge her finger did just a moment ago. She moves lower, leaving little kisses again as she dips below my navel. Her lips travel down the firm plane, sending my mind dangerous places. Just the mental image of those lips finally closing around my cock is killing me, and she’s getting awfully close.
Francesca drops to her knees.
“Oh, fuck,” I murmur, tilting my head back so I can’t look. I can’t do it though, and a split second later I’m looking down at her again. Her brown eyes meet mine as her hand closes around my cock, tugging and teasing me.
“Do you want me to take you in my mouth?” she asks, her eyes glimmering with mischief.
“More than anything,” I tell her honestly.
Her tongue darts out, trailing just along the tip.
I suck in a breath through my teeth, not taking my eyes off her.
Now her tongue trails along the length of my shaft before she finally closes her lips around the head, taking me into her mouth and sucking long and deep.
“Jesus Christ,” I grind out, reaching down and fisting my hand in her hair. I don’t want to get rough, but goddamn, this is exquisite torture. She picks up enthusiasm, working me with her hand as her mouth works me up and down. I didn’t expect her to be any good at this, given her limited experience, but holy shit, her mouth is magical. With every bob of her head she takes me deeper. I might die from the pleasure, but man, what a way to go.
I let go of her hair, reaching down to give her shoulder a squeeze. With my cock still in her mouth, still moving her lips over me, she looks up at me with those big brown eyes. I’m going to explode if she keeps looking up at me like that while she sucks my cock, and that’s not how I want this to end. I want to be inside her more than I want to wake up tomorrow.
Waking up tomorrow with her naked body curled up against me? Now that is a little slice of heaven. That is what I want more than anything.
She sits back on her legs, glancing up at me. “You don’t want me to…?”
Indicating the dress she’s still wearing, I suggest, “Why don’t we get you as naked as I am before we continue?”
“Oh.” She flushes prettily and stands, turning her back to me and pulling her hair over her shoulder so I can get the zipper. For all her boldness, I still pick up a vibe from her like she’s uncomfortable. Once I get the dress undone but not all the way off, I let my hands roam across the soft skin of her back. I move them up over her shoulders, pausing to knead muscles. Her head lolls to the side, a faint moan of pleasure escaping her, so I keep doing it. While I rub her back, my eyes take in every new inch of bare skin. I want to kiss every single centimeter of this woman. Experimentally, to see what she’ll do, I dip my head to drop a kiss between her shoulder blades, still rubbing her shoulders. I drop another kiss a little lower, then scatter a few off to the left. I move to the right, showering the same attention on that side, then I straighten and lean forward, pressing my bare chest against her bare back. Peace rolls over me when she leans back into me, right where she belongs.
I stop kneading her muscles, letting my hands drag down her arms as I lean in and brush my lips along the curve of her neck.
“How are you feeling?” I murmur.
She turns her head to glance back at me, smiling faintly. “Fine. Should I not be feeling fine?”
“I’m still kinda on the fence about this drunken sex thing,” I admit.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never had sex dr
unk before,” she teases.
Of course I have, but this is nothing like that. “I don’t want you to do something you might regret tomorrow.”
“We probably won’t have a lot of other opportunities to spend the night together,” she tells me. “I’d rather spend the night together after the first time, wouldn’t you?”
“I would. I would not, however, say that’s a great reason to do it now.”
Turning around so she can face me, she frowns up at me. “Don’t you want to have sex?”
“Very much.”
Her frown dissipates and she offers a little smile. “Then why are you trying to talk me out of it?”
“Because I don’t want to ever feel like I took advantage of you. More importantly, I don’t want you to ever feel like I took advantage of you.”
Her soft hands come to rest on my shoulders now. “I wouldn’t feel that way. I told you, it’s easier for me if alcohol has drowned out my inhibitions a bit.”
“That makes me nervous in and of itself. I wasn’t there so I obviously don’t know what it was like for you before, but I need to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that if something I’m doing isn’t working for you, you’ll tell me.”
Francesca nods. “I will. I told him sometimes, it was just… you know, he didn’t care.”
Rage moves through me again, overriding any sexual interest that survived this conversation. “Francesca…”
As if reading my mind, she shakes her head. Bringing her hands up to frame my face, she meets my gaze firmly. “I will never tell you his name. Not ever. I appreciate your protectiveness, I really, really do, but I’m not going to be the reason you go to war with my brother.”
“If your brother would go to war with me over this kind of human garbage, then maybe we should go to war.”
“No,” she says firmly, shaking her head. “It isn’t worth it. It doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter.”
Smiling to take the sting out of her words, she tells me, “I don’t need you to slay my dragons, Salvatore.”
“But I bought a special sword for it and everything.”
Now she grins at me. “I hope you kept the receipt.”
Sighing heavily, I let my head fall back. “Why won’t any of the women in my life let me kill the scumbags who hurt them?”
“I’m just spitballing here, but maybe murder isn’t an appropriate reaction.”
“I’m also open to prolonged torture ending in castration,” I inform her. “Never say I’m not flexible.”
“As much as that would benefit the world as a whole, I still have to say no.”
“This is bullshit,” I inform her.
Nodding indulgently, she says, “I know. I’m sorry I won’t let you murder or maim. It’s obviously unreasonable of me.” Dropping her hands to her sides, she sighs. “If it makes you feel any better, this conversation has totally killed my buzz.”
That actually does make me feel a little better. Even if it means I don’t get sex now. No sex is much better than sex Francesca isn’t totally on board with.
Indicating the pile of discarded clothes in the floor, I ask, “Should I put these back on?”
Slowly shaking her head, Francesca works her dress down over her arms. Then she shoves it down the rest of her body, stepping out of it.
Clad only in her bra and panties, she backs up toward the bed, easing up on the edge and scooting back, watching me all the while. “I had my heart set on sleeping with you tonight, Salvatore. You wouldn’t leave a girl disappointed, now would you?”
Chapter Ten
The sight of Francesca waiting for me on the bed swiftly reawakens the arousal I lost a moment ago.
I prowl closer to the bed, my gaze heating. With her on display like this, there’s too much I want to look at. Too much I want to do. I don’t even know where to start.
That little smile on her face is where I have to start. It’s killing me. The sight of her perfect, rounded cleavage spilling out of her bra, just begging for my mouth’s attention is hard to pass up, but those lips of hers… I’ve gotta taste those lips.
She scoots back when I approach the bed, like she wants me to chase her. I’d chase Francesca to the ends of the earth, so a few feet across a hotel room is nothing.
Climbing up on the bed, I move until I’m hovering over her body. “There are a lot of things I want to make you feel, Francesca, but disappointment sure isn’t one of them.”
The way she looks up at me like I’m the only man in the world seeps into my soul. I want to remember the sight of her like this for the rest of my life. It’s scary as hell at the same time. This woman who already means so much to me is opening herself up, making herself vulnerable, and now it’s my responsibility to live up to her faith in me. My mouth has been spitting out promises that are going to be hard as hell to keep, but I’d rather let down everyone else in the world than disappoint Francesca. I don’t know exactly how I’ll keep my promises, but I damn sure will.
Confident in that knowledge, I let myself have her. Lowering myself closer to the mattress, I let my body come down on top of hers. A bit of her boldness wavers now, her nerves fighting to take over. Before she can let them, I dip my face toward hers, brushing my lips across each corner of her mouth, then I taste those perfect lips. As innocent as it is, just feeling her respond to my kiss makes me hot. I’ve never enjoyed kissing someone as much as I enjoy kissing Francesca. Like always, she keeps it light. Even here, in bed, both of us at least mostly naked, she still keeps the kisses innocent. I don’t know if it’s her preference or inexperience, but I go ahead and deepen it. As my tongue comes out to play with hers, I snake a hand beneath her body, my fingers feeling for the clasp of her bra. She arches her back slightly to accommodate me, pressing her breasts against my chest.
I don’t know why we did anything other than this today. Nothing we did out in the city comes close to beating this. Anticipation surges through me because I can’t believe this is actually going to happen. It hasn’t been that long, I guess, but for me it has. At my age and with the women I date, waiting to have sex isn’t done.
This feels nothing like those encounters, though. Francesca is in a class of her own.
I ease back to help her get the bra off now, flinging it in the floor behind me. Her hands come up to cover her breasts. She’s bashful, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll look when she lets me. Right now I just want fewer clothes covering the body I want to devour, so I smirk up at her and hook my fingers along the edges of her black lacy panties. Her flush deepens as I drag them down her legs, but I don’t take my eyes off her face. I can’t imagine why someone with her body would be uncomfortable getting naked, but Francesca clearly doesn’t like baring herself in any way. I don’t get it myself, but I’m more than willing to accommodate whatever she needs.
“You look like I’m pulling your teeth here,” I remark, lightly.
“I’m sorry,” she says, less lightly. “I hate this part.”
“That’s… What’s to hate about this part?” I ask her, baffled.
“I actually hate all the parts. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” Even though she’s naked and I haven’t even really had a chance to look at her yet, she’s clearly not where I want her, so I pause. “Do you not want to be naked? We can strategically drape the sheet if you want,” I offer, indicating the white sheet.
“I’m being stupid,” she says, shaking her head.
“You’re not being stupid. I just want you to be comfortable. You’ve seen me,” I point out, indicating all of my unashamed nakedness. “Since you have the proportions of a goddess, I would like to see you. But if you’re not ready, that’s fine. I can hit the lights?”
“Maybe this wasn’t a good idea,” she says, clearly anxious. “The alcohol has worn off and I don’t feel brave anymore.”
“Okay,” I say, easing off her. “That’s fine.”
Pressing her hands against her face, she murmurs a muffl
ed, “I’m so sorry.”
“No apology necessary,” I tell her, climbing off the bed to go hit the lights. “I wasn’t expecting this anyway. We still get to spend the night together, so I’m coming out way ahead of my expectations.”
Once I climb back into bed, I’m expecting her to have calmed down, but if possible, she looks more upset. “I feel terrible.”
“Don’t.”
Yanking back the bed sheet as soon as I climb in, she says, “Let me finish the blowjob—you’re clearly still aroused.”
I catch her as she tries to move down my body—mostly because I don’t possess the self-control to stop her if she gets there—and pull her into my chest. Without a word, I drop a kiss to the crown of her head and wrap my arm around her.
“I swore I wasn’t going to do this,” she mutters.
“Francesca.” I tip her back, looking into her eyes so she sees I’m serious. “It’s fine. Stop stressing about it. I brought you here today to have a nice time. We’ve had a nice time. We’re still having a nice time. Now, here I am holding you in my arms, falling asleep next to you. I am in no way dissatisfied with this day or you.”
She peers up at me for a moment, just staring at me without saying a word. I don’t know whether she’s going to cry or apologize or just give up and go to sleep.
Finally she leans in, brushing her lips against mine. I respond, since she’s lingering, but I don’t deepen it. I do nothing to set the pace. That was my original instinct and she was fine with that, but once I started taking control, she flipped her fucking lid—even though it seemed like she wanted me to.
Francesca doesn’t deepen the kiss herself, but she doesn’t stop kissing me, either. Still with our lips connected, she eases up, pressing her bare breasts against my chest. My cock burns with arousal but I try to ignore it. Only then her hand creeps down my abdomen, spreading fire through my veins with every inch of skin she drags her soft hand down. She stokes a fucking inferno when she wraps her hand around my cock, gripping me and tugging up and down.