The Italian Heartthrob: Forbidden Standalone

by N J Adel

  I lay on my back and stared at the mirror, watching as he got as much of them into his mouth as he could. Then he went frantic, kissing, suckling, flicking. I was squirming and whimpering, but, in that instant, I’d never been so sure of my power as a woman. He was right. This was not such a bad idea after all.

  I pressed his head on my chest, wanting more. Much more. “Fuck me in the tits.” It was more of an order than a request, my voice quiet, assured.

  I traced his face in the mirror as he lifted his stare to me, his chest heaving. “I’m dying to fuck your tits, but I know I’m gonna come as soon as my cock is between them.” He closed his eyes, licking his lips. “Pre-cum dripping at the thought.”

  “I want to see,” I demanded.

  He held himself up, his dick in his hand. I hissed when two drops trickled on my stomach and slid down to my belly button.

  “I’m shaking again, my heart ringing in my ears. I touch your stomach, feeling your waist and how your hips curve.” He moaned loudly, his hands moving lower. My legs parted as his fingers reached the top of my pussy. “I’m too hungry for you now. All the lovey-dovey shit is gone. I wanna fuck you like an animal, but I wanna know if you want to fuck me, too.” His rugged voice set something wild in my core. “Wanna put my fingers inside you to see how much you want my cock.” He looked at my face, not the mirror, his gaze piercing. “And I wanna hear you say it out loud.”

  My pelvis rose as if reaching for something in the air. I stared at his reflection, my nipples so hard they hurt, my pussy even wetter than last night when he first touched me. “I want you to fuck me so much, Mike. So fucking much.”

  He yanked his gaze from mine, tilting his head back, groaning. “As much as I want to, I stop my fingers from going into the pussy that’s torturing me.”

  “Why? What the fuck? Why?” He was the one torturing me, not the other way around.

  “Your wetness is gonna rip me apart. I don’t wanna come just yet. I want my cock deep inside, making your cunt burn the same way my whole body burns.”

  “Make me burn, Mike. Do it. What the hell are you waiting for? Do you want me to beg? I’m not gonna beg.” I touched myself. I couldn’t bear this emptiness where I needed him to fill me.

  “Silenzio. I’m trying to cool down here.” He met my eyes, glaring at me, grabbing my hand away. “Fuck, Maggie!” He flipped me on my stomach, folding one arm around my waist. I was on all fours, my ass in the air, and then he let go. “Your ass distracts me a little. I take my time, looking at it. Marveling at it.” He felt up the globes. “There’s actually something to grab there. Good God, your ass is so perfect I wanna eat it.” He bit me, and I moaned.

  Mike Gennaro is marveling at my big ass.

  There was one thing I’d always liked but never asked for. Not when Kyle couldn’t even talk dirty. “Spank it,” I said.

  The raw growl from Mike made me shiver with pleasure. His palm clacked on my butt, and my face went red. It wasn’t rough or painful. It was erotic. Intense.

  “Do it again,” I commanded.

  He smacked the other cheek, a little harder this time. I winced, desire rippling through me. His palms felt hot as they groped my ass. “I want you to arch your ass in my hands, so I can put my finger in there.”

  What the fuck? I turned my head to the side, glowering at him.

  “Look in the mirror,” he ordered.

  I narrowed my eyes at his reflection, hoping they were menacing enough.

  The corner of his mouth curved in a smirk as his eyes stared at my asshole. “I think about how my cock will feel there. So tight.”

  Just because I liked the spanking didn’t mean he could Fifty Shade me. “Don’t you dare.

  “I love your ass. Love it.” He squeezed it harder and spanked me again. “I wanna look at it, grip at it, but while I’m inside your fucking, wet, slick, pussy.”

  His words were unhurried, deliberate, sending fire in all the right places. He parted my legs farther, and he tasted me. He exhaled in me, swearing. “I lose all control as I lick your juice.” Bracing himself on his legs, he pushed forward, holding his cock in his hand. He looked at my bent body one more time, taking it all in. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

  He gripped my hip, the other hand rubbing his tip against me. My head fell forward, and my fingers wrinkled the pillow sheet under me.

  “Don’t hide your face from my view. I wanna watch as I fuck you.”

  Fuck. Okay. Anything you want. Just fuck me already. I looked back into the mirror, and he pushed his cock inside me. His mouth opened with a wild groan. His hard abs clenched against my ass. “This is the best feeling I’ve ever had in my life.”

  Yes. Yes, yes. FUCK YES.

  His thrusts were slow, hard, deep. The grimace of sweet pain on his face gave me more pleasure. The pulsing vein in his neck. The white knuckles on my hips. The rigid breaths on my back. He was watching me with something like awe, but he wasn’t talking anymore.

  That wouldn’t do at all.

  “Talk,” I murmured.

  He smiled, swallowing, sweating. “I try to sort out…how I can make you as twisted with need…as I am.” He circled his hips, speeding up his movements.

  I closed my eyes, lost in the moment. “Mike…”

  “Don’t close your eyes. Look at me. Look at what you do to me.”

  What am I doing to him?! What is he doing to me? I cried out, snapping my eyes open. “What do I do to you?”

  “You make me feel like I’ve never fucked a pussy before. Mi fai impazzire. Your pussy is driving me insane, Carolina.” He brought his hands to my shoulders for support. “Fuck. The way your tits are swaying as I fuck you… Ahhh. Look at your ass. Your fucking perfect ass.”

  “Oh my God,” I panted. His cock inside me alone was enough to rip me apart. This was so intense, so hot, when I had to keep my eyes open, when he was making me watch like that.

  He squeezed my shoulders, his thumbs bracketing the curve of my spine. “Your skin is unbelievable, slick with sweat like this.” He bent his knees, his strokes frantic, my body rocking back against his.

  I shifted my weight to my elbows and screamed, asking for harder, my fingers twisting into the fabric of the duvet. He pulled me back roughly with every thrust, and then he pulled my hair and leaned forward, sending his cock even deeper.

  Moaning his name, I looked at his image, and he was wrecked, almost broken. His fingers dug into my flesh, leaving white and pink marks there. “I can’t take it anymore.”

  “Don’t you dare stop now. Don’t you fucking dare stop.”

  “God, Maggie.” He squeezed his eyes shut, running one hand in his hair, his other making its way to my clit. “You’d better come now, or I’ll have to come inside you.”

  I gasped for breath, an ache roiling in my belly, my head thrown back against his shoulder. With his thumb and his cock reaching every fucking nerve in my pussy, I screamed his name like I never screamed before, my eyes wide open, the spasms of my orgasm magnificent.

  He pulled out fast. “FUCK.” With one hand squeezing my breast, he lashed out in a frenzy of curses, spraying my ass with hot sticky cum.

  He rested his own ass on his heels, recovering. I just glanced at him, equally spent, a long stretch of silence between us. I didn’t mind. I couldn’t move, couldn’t think.

  “I never felt anything like this before,” he finally said, his voice sullen.

  I rolled on my back, feeling his cum spreading on my ass and the duvet, wondering where this had gone wrong to upset him. “Like what?”

  He lay on his side next to me, his expression unreadable, and then he kissed me.

  “Like what?” I repeated with a smile.

  He blinked, tucking my hair behind my ear. “Powerless.”

  My smile grew. “I thought that was the point.”

  “The point was to make you feel beautiful. Powerful.” He bowed his head. “Not to make me fuckin’ weak and defenseless like that.”

 
“You’re not weak, amore mio. You’re everything but.” I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Please don’t ruin this for me. I thought last night was the best sex I’ve ever had, but this… Please tell me you felt it, too.”

  “I did. Probably even more. It scared the hell out of me. Did it, at least, work? Did you see how beautiful you are?”

  “I did.” It was as if a whole new world had opened its doors to me. I was only stepping in, but it felt so good to just be in there. “I do.”

  “I love you so much, Maggie. More than I ever should.”

  I swallowed, somehow scared, too, now. Not of moving forward, but of ever having to go back. “I love you, too.” That was all I could say, but I felt and meant every letter.

  “Whatever happens, don’t leave me.” His eyes glittered. “Tell me you won’t ever leave without letting me fix whatever it is first,” he said, his fingers stabbed in my arms. “Please.”

  He was struggling for no reason, and I wished I’d known exactly what to do to make him feel the same way he made me feel. Grounded. Confident. I would never leave him. I, too, would choose him over anything else. I, too, loved him more than I should ever have.

  I leveled my gaze with his, putting all my love, all my trust, all my resolution in my eyes before my voice. “I won’t.”

  Scene 39

  Maggie

  I wrapped a towel around myself as I stepped out of Mike’s bathroom, my muscles still tickling from the Jacuzzi water. I walked to where my dress was dropped on the floor and picked it up. Mike’s jeans, belt, and boxers were on the floor, too, and the memory of him coming with me went bright in my head, sending a tightness between my thighs.

  I rolled my eyes. Thank God he agreed each of us showered alone. I was dehydrated, famished, and my legs wobbled so much I could barely walk, let alone hump. Put me in the shower with him and it would have been all over again.

  Tugging at the zipper didn’t work. Mike did rip it off. My shoulders slumped as I looked for an alternative. A folded red fabric on top of the scrambled bed sheets caught my attention. A man’s T-shirt. Mike’s.

  I smiled, slipping the soft cotton over my head. Smelling the collar, I looked at myself in the mirror, the red material soothing on my skin. The fragrance that lingered—his fragrance, distinctive and overwhelming— made my heart flutter.

  I took the elevator to the kitchen. A soft melody streamed from the central sound system. Dark orange sunlight sifted through the windows and onto the hardwood floor. Mike was at the counter, his wet hair tied back, his naked back to me. The rim of his black boxers peaked out from his jeans.

  Dirty pictures played in my head. Pictures of me, holding him from behind, inserting my hands in the back pockets of his ass-hugging jeans, and then sitting on that counter, my legs apart.

  I tsked my tongue, and he turned his head. “I didn’t hear you come…in.” His smile tightened on his lips the second he laid eyes on me. Quickly, he returned to what he was doing and cleared his throat. “You had a nice bath?”

  “Yeah. Thanks for the T-shirt.”

  “It looks…good on you.”

  By the shake of his head, I knew good was an understatement. I approached the counter. “What’re you making?”

  “Gnocchi,” he answered without so much of a glance at me. “The housekeeping staff comes here weekly to clean the house and stock the kitchen in case I show up or have guests over. I wanted to grill some steaks, but I didn’t find any, only chicken. I know you don’t eat that, so I changed the plan to gnocchi and shrimps.”

  I laughed as I remembered each time Kyle had forgotten I didn’t eat chicken and tried to change my mind. Whereas Mike…

  “Sorry. I know I’m rambling. I just need a distraction,” he said.

  “That’s not why I’m laughing.” I moved my fingers along the counter instead of his abs. “I could use a distraction, too. How can I help?”

  He chuckled. “By staying away from me.”

  I giggled. “How’s that even happening?”

  “No fuckin’ idea. I have zero energy left, but…” Mike pivoted a little, gesturing at the front of his jeans.

  A huge bulge in his jeans stared me in the face. “Fuck.” I retreated to the breakfast table at the far end of the kitchen. “I did not need to see that.” My ears concentrated on the song playing now.

  Let's find out

  What you are about

  What's hidden in there

  What you've got for me there.

  “Seriously? Okay, how about you change that song, put a fuckin’ shirt on, and I put on something…longer…and not red?”

  He twisted, looking at me with smiling eyes. “Great idea. Go into my closet and pick the ugliest thing there, per favore. The pin code is your birthday.”

  What? My heart careened. Just like that, the last wall of my resistance shattered. My strides were fast toward him, my hands faster groping for his body like a blind person. He lifted me to the counter, his lips consuming me. Just like that, my knees hooked behind him as our breaths caught together.

  Scene 40

  Mike

  Mike put on his signature smile and flashed Maggie’s phone at her.

  Curled on the living room couch, she grunted and shook her head. “No. Not yet.”

  “You have to turn it on.” He slumped next to her without losing his smile.

  “Don’t give me that smile, Gennaro. It’s not gonna work on me.”

  “You sure about that?” His smile grew bigger.

  She stared at him for a moment and then giggled. “This is so creepy. How the fuck you do that?”

  He joined her laughter, placing the phone in her hand. “Years and years of practice.”

  Heaving a sigh, she stared at the gadget. “I don’t think I’m ready just yet.”

  “Yes, you are.” His hands massaged her shoulders. “I already called James and told him to get here at nine. You need to call DeVries and do the same.” He kissed her cheek. “If we’re still doing that no going public thing, we gotta come up with a story that satisfies you and feed it to the press fast. Besides, you need clothes.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Open your phone and see.”

  She tapped him in the stomach, and he faked a wince that made her smile. “Here goes nothing.” She pressed the phone button. “When are you going back to Newark?”

  “I was supposed to leave tonight, but I postponed the flight to nine a.m. tomorrow.”

  Her shoulders went rigid. “How long will you be gone?”

  “Uh…a week.”

  “Oh.” She dropped her gaze and watched notifications go haywire on her phone.

  “What about you? Do you have to work tonight?”

  “No, but I have to be on set tomorrow at ten in the morning.”

  “That must be killing you, having to wake up early to go to work,” he said, hoping to distract her…and himself. He knew how much he’d miss her. How difficult it’d be to leave her now. And by the tone of her voice, he knew it was hard for her, too.

  A deep line formed between her eyebrows as she looked at him. “Mike…I know I can’t ask you this, but I don’t want you to leave. Call me selfish, young, naive, whatever you want, but a week? It’s too long.”

  “I know, amore. It’s too long for me, too. I have no idea how I’m gonna do it.”

  “Can you at least make it shorter?”

  “I’ll do the best that I can.” He stroked her hair. “I’ll ask for an eighteen-hour schedule to finish my scenes as early as possible and get back to you. I’ll cancel all the interviews and photo shoots till you wrap, so you can, at least, come with me.”

  She clung to his arm. “Thank you.”

  The phone buzzed in her fist. “Fuck. It’s Andrea,” she grumbled, canceling the call, her fingers quick with a text message to her manager. “Okay. I texted Samantha the address and told her to get me something to wear on the way.” She clutched at her stomach, her fingers fumbling through social me
dia applications.

  “You shouldn’t do that.” He snatched the phone out of her hand.

  Her thumb pressed at the top of her stomach. “Then tell me what they’re saying.”

  “What difference does it make? Good or bad, it’s gossip. You can’t let it affect or concern you.” He looked at her abdomen. “You all right?”

  “I’m a little nauseated, and my stomach is acting up.” Closing her eyes, she inhaled. “Stress does that to me.”

  He set the phone in his lap and rubbed her shoulders. “Should I call a doctor?”

  She snorted. “Hell no. How about a joint?”

  Her phone buzzed again. She looked, and then winced, her face growing pale. His gaze fell on his lap and the name on the screen. Kyle.

  Mike clenched his teeth, a headache banging his head out of the blue. He glanced at her, sizing up her expression.

  “I think I’m gonna be sick.” She bounced off the couch and darted to the bathroom.

  He jumped to his feet, going after her, but she held her hand up, motioning for him to stay. He glared at her phone, his fingers itching to pick up. He wasn’t going to be polite and reserved like Kyle was when he asked him to stop pursuing Maggie. Mike was going to tell him to fuck off. Loud and clear.

  Except he couldn’t. He wasn’t allowed. To tell Kyle meant he would know. An ex-boyfriend with a grudge meant the whole world would know.

  Mike growled as the invisible chains Maggie put around his hands burned, and for a moment he was angry at her. He stalked to the bathroom, ready for a fight.

  She was on her knees, hunched over the toilet, her hair hiding her face. “Get out. I don’t want you to see this.”

  “No.” His anger vanished into concern. He quickly squatted behind her and pushed her hair off her face, holding it with one hand, rubbing her back with the other. “You sure this is just stress?” It couldn’t be the food. He’d eaten it, too.