by Sam Mariano
“I wish I could reframe it for him like that, but it won’t work. It’s generational at this point. How’s he gonna look at someone a couple years older than me as his equal? He’s not. It’s always gonna be your dad.”
“Did your dad even like my dad?”
“Nope.” That’s the fucking funniest part of this whole stupid situation. “He didn’t disapprove of his actions enough to cancel all this out, though.”
“Right. Sure. He only imprisoned women and brutally murdered entire families. What’s not to like?”
I shrug. I hate when she puts me in the position of defending these assholes. “I agree with you, obviously, but the way my dad saw it, his wife was the one in the wrong. A woman shouldn’t cheat, she damn sure shouldn’t get knocked up by someone else and embarrass her husband, and then to top it all off, she left him. You can’t embarrass a powerful man like that.”
“I know that. I’m glad to see your family’s as deeply entrenched in the dark ages as mine,” she adds, rolling her eyes.
“Hey, I’m a modern man by most standards. If you cheated on me, I’d just kill the guy, not you.”
She glances back at me so I can see her roll her eyes. “My apologies; you’re clearly a modern marvel. Being a woman is stupid.”
“I’m gonna have to disagree with you on that one,” I tell her, running a hand down her arm. “I’m pretty glad you’re a woman. My dad would approve even less if you weren’t.”
“Something worse than being a Morelli?” she asks mockingly.
“Well, I’m assuming you’re still a Morelli. Hey, maybe that’s what I should do, bait and switch him. Make him think I fell for Mateo, then when he’s about to actually combust, I say, nah, Dad, look at this gorgeous woman, I’m actually in love with her. Aren’t you relieved?”
I expect her to at least give me a smile at this scenario, but instead she takes a bigger gulp of her wine and doesn’t look at me.
I go back over it in my head, then I realize what I said.
I just said I was in love with her. Which I’ve kind of accepted as a fact inside my head, but I have not shared that sentiment aloud.
“I mean…” I start to backtrack, bring it back to a joke, but then I shake my head, deciding against it. “Nah, fuck it. That’s exactly what I meant.” Her wine glass is still tipped back—man, she is chugging it. “Does that really come as such a surprise? Don’t get weird on me. It’s not a bad thing. You don’t have to say it back, I just—”
She leans forward, putting the drained wine glass down on my coffee table. Then she turns around in my lap, leaning on my chest and smiling at me. “You love me?”
Phew. For a minute there, I wasn’t sure how she was going to take it. Bringing my hand up to her face, I run the backs of my fingers along her jawline, then tuck a chunk of dark hair behind her ear. “Of course I love you. I think about you every day. I crave you like a fucking addict. I’m nuts about you, Francesca. Can’t you tell?”
A slow grin stretches across that perfect mouth of hers, and it’s like she’s lit from within. Seeing her happy, knowing I made her feel that way, it’s like someone injected a shot of happiness straight into my veins.
“I had a hunch,” she teases. “Sometimes it’s just a little hard to reconcile what we feel with what we can do about it. I know your family is important to you. I know they wouldn’t want you with me. I don’t know how we build anything that lasts on top of that.”
No, I don’t either. I know I’m going to, though. It depresses me even to think about life without Francesca now. She’s on my mind so much, more than anyone else ever has been. Making her happy is a goal I set out to achieve each day—what if I weren’t around? No one else makes it their mission to make her smile. A world in which Francesca might not feel loved on any given day isn’t a world I wanna live in.
Life without Francesca isn’t something I’m interested in, period.
I caress her face again, watching as my thumb inches closer to her lips. I catch her plump bottom lip with the pad of my thumb, and her brown eyes flicker with need. “Well, you’re important to me, too.”
“I know that. I’m just afraid I’ll lose you.”
“You won’t,” I assure her. “You’re mine already, that’s done. I don’t know how we’ll make this work, but we will. I’m not going to let you go. If my dad found out about us tomorrow, I wouldn’t let you go. It would just make my life considerably harder, because I don’t know to what lengths my dad would go to, to intervene.”
Instead of responding with words, Francesca coaxes my thumb into her mouth, closing her lips around it and sucking.
My cock instantly recalls the magical wonderland of Francesca’s mouth.
Then she slides back, releasing my thumb, and says, “Let’s go to bed.”
I remember all too well how this went down last time. As much as I want her, I don’t need things to progress if she isn’t ready yet. “I’m not all that tired,” I tell her.
Her hand moves between my legs, finding the clear evidence of my arousal, and she strokes my cock through the soft fabric of my pajama pants. “Neither am I.”
Chapter Sixteen
As much as I want her, I catch her hand to stop her rubbing me. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for, Francesca. I’m a patient man.”
“You’ve been very patient,” she informs me, climbing off the couch anyway and tugging on my hand. “And I appreciate it. But you want me and I want you, so what are we waiting for?”
I let her pull me up off the couch, then I settle my hands around her waist and keep her where she is. It’s not exactly sexy, but I point out, “We’re waiting for you to be comfortable. Are you?”
Shrugging with a cute little smile, she says, “I’ve maybe had enough wine. Let’s find out. I’m pretty sure it’s a yes this time.”
“I’m very adamantly against you trying to get yourself drunk to have sex.”
Her brown eyes dance with amusement and she brings a hand up, running the back of it across my jawline now. “We’ve been over this. It’s fine.”
I’m still wary, but I let her go, turn everything off in the living room, and follow her down the hall to my bedroom.
Despite her assurances, Francesca has a lot of nervous energy herself. She’s staying the night whether we have sex or not, so I decide to bring everything down a notch and just ease in.
Nodding at my bed, I tell her. “Get on the bed.”
She obeys, climbing up on the bed and sitting back on her knees. Since I started giving her directions, she seems to be waiting for the next one. Ordinarily I would be just fine with that, but with her I can’t trust that she isn’t just following programming. If she genuinely likes it, great, but I don’t want to take the chance she doesn’t and she’d go along with it anyway.
I take my time unbuttoning my shirt and peel it off. Her eyes follow my fingers on every button—she looks interested, but still nervous. I’ve never had sex with a sexually hesitant woman before, so I still don’t exactly know how to handle Francesca, but I’ll figure it out.
A little smile of pleasure moves across her lips once I’m shirtless and her gaze darts to my face. “I very much like the sight of you without a shirt on.”
“The feeling is mutual, I assure you.” With that, I drop my gaze pointedly to her shirt.
“Oh, right.” She shifts, her hands fluttering to the hem of her shirt, then she yanks it over her head. She takes the time to fold the damn thing, then tosses it on the floor. She peels the leggings off next and ditches them with the shirt.
“What do you like most?” I ask her casually, as I step out of my own pants and walk toward the bed.
“I don’t know,” she says, awkwardly. “I like everything we do.”
“I mean what we haven’t done. Sexually. Is there any position you like best, or you hate that I should avoid?”
“I don’t know.”
“Okay.” I nod toward my pillow. “Lie down on
your stomach.”
She moves in that direction without much confidence, but then she looks back at me and gestures to the bra and panties she’s still wearing. “Should I take these off?”
I shake my head. “Not yet.”
Once I’m on the bed I climb on top of her. As if by instinct, she draws her hands together at the small of her back like she’s bound. I close my eyes, taking a breath to keep from imagining why she might do that. Once I let it out, I refocus on the moment. I gently take her wrists and pull them apart. “Just get comfortable,” I tell her.
I do not think she’s in the least bit comfortable, but after wigging out on me last time, she probably doesn’t want to again.
“We’re not going to have sex yet. We have all night,” I tell her, my hands coming to rest on her shoulders. I rub her tense muscles, keeping my voice calm. “If you’re determined to have sex tonight, we will. If we have to stop a time or ten, then that’s what we’ll do. Please don’t try to push through if you’re not feeling it.”
“We can add back rubs to the list of things I like,” she tells me.
I crack a smile, then dip to brush a kiss against her shoulder blade. “Done. What else do you like?”
She’s still a little hesitant, but as I rub her shoulder with one hand and trail a finger down her spine with the other, she answers, “I like when you kiss me.”
“Where?”
“Everywhere. My mouth, my neck, my chest.”
“Here?” I lean down, pushing her hair over her shoulder and brushing my lips across the nape of her neck.
Sighing with pleasure, she says, “Definitely there.”
My chest brushes her back as I move my lips along her shoulder, moving my hand down her back and over the curve of her ass, giving it a gentle squeeze. I work my fingers between her legs, paying attention to her swift intake of breath. I drag a finger down the inside of her thigh, then back up, covering her pussy with the palm of my hand. I kiss her neck again, then murmur in her ear, “I love everything about this body, Francesca, and I would never do a thing you didn’t like to it. That wouldn’t bring me any pleasure. You understand? I would hate that.”
I’m so close I can hear her swallow as she nods her understanding.
“Anyone who gets pleasure out of hurting you has no business touching you. No one like that will ever touch you again, because you’re mine. I never want you to do anything that doesn’t bring you pleasure again. I don’t want you to feel fear or anxiety or dread—nothing bad. You should never feel anything bad when we’re together like this.”
My hand roams the perfect curve of her ass again. I can’t help squeezing. Her ass is fucking perfect. I want her straddling me, so I gently turn her over. Her face is slightly flushed, but she’s completely receptive when I lean down and kiss her.
I climb on the other side of her, sitting up. “Get on top of me.”
She does, straddling me just the way I wanted.
“I’ll probably tell you what to do out of habit, but you never have to do it, all right? If I tell you to do something and you don’t want to do it, just tell me to fuck off. It kinda does it for me when you try to push me around, so I won’t even be offended,” I tell her with a wink.
She playfully shoves my shoulder, smiling.
I raise an eyebrow with interest and tell her teasingly, “See? There you go.” My cock really didn’t need any encouragement, but I push against her anyway, letting her feel how hard she makes me.
All on her own, she braces a hand on each of my shoulders and leans in to kiss me. I let her control the pace for a minute, but she’s Francesca, so she doesn’t deepen it. That’s fine, but I want more. Anchoring one hand on her hip, I thread the other tenderly through her hair and hold her still while I gently invade her mouth. As much as I hate to let go of any part of her, I move my hand on her hip to explore between her legs. I keep kissing her, paying close attention to her response as my finger moves up under the scant fabric of her panties. She shifts, briefly breaking the kiss, but then she resumes, lifting her hips to make more room for my hand. That’s all the encouragement I need, so I dip a finger inside her, savoring her gasp of pleasure. I push my finger deeper, relieved to feel evidence of her arousal.
“Your pussy is already wet for me, isn’t it?”
She breathes a little heavier, nodding against me as she pushes her hips down against my hand. “I love when you touch me, Sal.” She gasps, letting her head fall back as I slide my finger up to brush her clit. I only toy with her a little bit, then I push a second finger inside of her and go deep, working her, caressing her walls. Her little breaths and gasps as she rides my hand drive me wild, and as much as I’d like to pile orgasms on her in every way I’m capable, right now I really just want to bury my face between her legs.
Her nose wrinkles up adorably when I extract my fingers from between her legs, but I smirk, because she’ll like this even more. I run my hands down the outsides of her legs, then lurch forward, moving her onto her back with me over top of her in one swift motion. Her legs drop apart for me and I can’t help moving between them, butting my erection against her as I kiss her.
“I can’t wait to be inside you,” I tell her.
She blushes and buries her face in my shoulder. “You don’t have to wait.”
“I want to taste you first.”
“Oh god,” she murmurs. “You really don’t have to.”
“Trust me, I’ve been dreaming about it for a while; I very much want to.”
I kiss my way down her chest, running my tongue along the skin exposed above her bra and closing my mouth over the lace-covered peak of her nipple. Her back arches, pushing her breast against my face. I growl a little, biting down—not enough to hurt, just enough to startle her. Then I move lower, trailing kisses along her abdomen. I hook my fingers into the lacy band of her panties and tug them down, yanking them off and flinging them toward the stack of discarded clothing on the floor.
Her hands appear, like she wants to cover herself. I quirk an eyebrow. “What are these doing here? You want to play with yourself and make me watch?”
Her eyes widen. “No.”
“Then these have no business here,” I tell her, pushing her hands away.
“Vaginas are not attractive,” she informs me.
“Well, maybe not to you.” I dip my head, excitement coursing through me as I finally bury my face between her legs. Francesca gasps as my tongue breaches her entrance, clutching the sheets as I lick along her sweet pussy.
“Oh, God,” she cries, throwing her head back against the mattress.
The sounds Francesca makes as my fingers dig into the soft skin of thighs, keeping her legs open so I can devour the sweetness between her legs drive me wild. I continue to taste her with steady strokes, but I want to make her come so I can bury my cock inside her, so I turn my attention to her clit.
Francesca pants, fucking pants, and it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard. She writhes and gasps as I nibble on her clit. I let go of one of her thighs and push my longest finger inside her while I’m at it and she cries out again, restlessly bucking her hips.
“Sal,” she says on a gasp. “Oh, God, Sal.”
Fuck yes, she can keep doing that all night. I can tell by her sounds and movements that she’s close so I zero in, strumming mercilessly as she gasps and moans.
“Sal!” I feel her pleasure erupt and she cries out for me, her body twisting as she comes. She breathes heavily as she starts to come down. I let go and push up on my arms so I can hover over her.
“Should we add that to the like column?” I ask innocently.
Laughing more easily than I even expect, she wraps her arms around my body and tugs me down. She wraps her legs around my waist and kisses me, deepening it herself this time. Oh yeah, she wants me.
That feeling is damn sure mutual, so I reach around her back and unhook her bra. She shifts so I can yank it off, and I bend to kiss her exposed breasts. I move my mouth over
the left one first, sucking on her nipple. She threads her fingers through my hair, holding me close while my tongue circles the sensitive peak. Then I lavish the same attention on her other breast before moving back to her mouth. I want to kiss her when I drive inside of her, and my cock is fucking furious that I haven’t already.
I break the kiss, just long enough to ask, “You want my cock, Francesca?”
“Yes,” she says, a bit breathlessly, her arms still locked around me.
“Tell me.”
“I want your cock, Salvatore. I want you inside me.”
I roll off her so I can open the nightstand drawer, drawing out a condom. I rip it open, tossing the wrapper and roll the condom down over my cock. Instead of climbing on top of her, I lie down and let her climb on top of me.
She takes my cock in hand and positions me at her entrance. First she eases the swollen head of my cock in, then she goes for it, lowering herself and taking all of me inside her.
“That’s it, baby,” I murmur, closing my eyes as she lifts herself and lowers herself again, taking me to the hilt. I shouldn’t be surprised at this point—it’s getting her into sex that’s the problem, not her aptitude once she’s there—but Francesca rides me like a fucking dream. She holds my gaze as she grinds against me, runs her fingers through her long, luscious dark hair, squeezes her own tits. I thought we might change positions after a few minutes, but fuck it, this one is perfect.
I can feel the tension building in my body, feel myself approaching climax, but then I notice Francesca getting wilder, holding onto my torso while she grinds her pussy against me.
“Sal.” Her fingernails dig into my sides, a thrill shooting straight through me as she moves her hips more urgently, closing her eyes, her hair falling and brushing my stomach. “Oh, God, Sal.”
“God, you are so fucking sexy,” I tell her.
She tries to laugh, but then she gets there. She cries out as her pussy convulses around my cock, and that’s it. There’s no holding on as Francesca’s orgasm pushes me over the edge. She’s breathing hard, but she keeps moving her hips as I groan with my release, giving me every last second of pleasure she can.