Below the Belt
Page 13
“Then prepare yourself to really be freaked out.” She didn’t say anything. She just looked at him. “I want to make love to you, Francesca.” That rolling r in her name made her melt. “Can I do that? Is it too soon? Can I make love to you? Show you how good you can feel? Show you what I should’ve showed you that night?”
It really wasn’t even a question, because sane women didn’t actually decline offers like that from someone like Tony.
She swallowed and tried to catch her breath. Emotions flooded her—anxiety, fear, excitement. She nodded because that was all she was able to do.
“Need words.”
“Yes,” she croaked. It was almost inaudible.
“Can I kiss you?”
Again she croaked out a yes. He leaned down and kissed her, and like all their kisses, it began soft but quickly turned into fireworks. He shifted her so she sat straddled on him as he continued to assault her lips with his.
His face was tucked against her neck, her long red hair covering him like a curtain. Her arms tightened around his neck with each nip of his teeth against the sensitive area behind her ear. Her hand wandered underneath the top of his shirt, and her nails gently scratched his skin. The only way she could go through with this was if she had some control, or semblance of control. The first time had been so fast and lust had been the factor that had gotten her through it. She hadn’t really had time to think about what was happening.
But now…he was taking it slow, so now she had time to be inside her head. To think. Complete loss of control, especially to something she was so unfamiliar with, was not something she could handle, and she was afraid she’d fail to go through with it. Every time she let out a small whimper or her nail clawed a little less gently, his grip tightened and his nips became more like love bites, which felt wonderful. He stood, lifting her with him, and she wrapped her legs around him. Not releasing his mouth from her neck and shoulder, he walked blindly to her room and slowly placed her on the bed.
Francesca scooted backward, and when her back hit the headboard, she wrapped her arms around her bent knees.
—
She was obviously nervous. Was he some kind of depraved nut job? Because he found that to be the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. It was the two sides of Francesca that made her so tempting: the fiery vixen sure of herself outside the bedroom and the timid one with the deer-in-the-headlights look in the bedroom. He wouldn’t go further than she was willing to go, but he couldn’t let the opportunity pass him by, and he couldn’t—wouldn’t—let some other man be the first after so many years. It was an urge he couldn’t shake. Perhaps it was selfish of him, but he was known to be a selfish bastard.
“Are you sure?” he asked. She didn’t look sure. She looked frightened, as if she might bolt at any second.
All she did was nod, her face almost completely buried against her knees.
Tony toed off his shoes and slowly removed his socks. He reached behind and lifted his shirt in one pull. Francesca’s eyes widened as her eyes grazed him. He pushed his jeans down along with his boxers, threw them aside, and then placed one knee on the bed as he made his way to her. He sat on his haunches and placed his hands on her knees right in front of her. “We don’t have to do this.” God, but he wanted to.
“No. I want to.”
“You sure? ’Cause, mi amor, you look like you’re about to take off running.”
She straightened her back and moved so that her legs were now tucked underneath her more casually. “I’m not.”
Tony leaned in, placed a soft kiss on her lips, and then pulled away. Her puckered lips followed his as if there were a magnetic pull between them. Tony chuckled, reached under her knees and back, and laid her flat on the bed, with his body over hers. He could see the vein at the base of her throat throb. He wanted to set her at ease, but she was such a hardheaded woman. If she wouldn’t even admit to herself she was nervous, it would be almost impossible to get her to relax. He moved the palm of his hand from her cheek to her throat, then leaned back down and kissed her again, this time less gently. The kiss quickly became urgent, something that seemed to happen often between them. Scared or not, the woman wanted him as much as he wanted her. Of this he was sure.
“So beautiful,” he whispered into her mouth.
The pounding of her heart was like another living, breathing person in the room. He’d never slept with someone so nervous, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to take her like this. It didn’t feel right.
He pulled away. “I can’t do this.”
She turned on her side to face him, her lips swollen, her face flushed, her hair covering parts of her face. “W-what?”
“I want to. Dios mío, I want to.” He stroked her face. “But I don’t want you to feel pressured. I don’t know….”
She rolled onto her back and placed her arm over her face.
What the hell was that supposed to mean? He turned to face her. A few long moments passed before she finally spoke.
“I’m just scared.” It was so low that at first he wasn’t even sure she had said anything at all. Then she repeated the words, her voice small and shaky. At that moment, seeing her vulnerability, he felt his heart rip open, and the urge for just sex was replaced by an unbelievably fierce desire to wrap her up in his arms and protect her from anything and everything that could possibly make her scared. Including himself. He didn’t know what to do with these newfound emotions except bottle them up and do whatever he needed to do to set her at ease. Also, he wanted to hunt down Rodrigo and beat the living shit out of him for making her this way.
Tony took the arm that was draped over her face, kissed the palm of her hand, and placed it on the bed. He wanted to see her eyes. The same hazel eyes that had possessed him for the last five months. “Please, don’t be scared with me. It kind of hurts my heart.”
“God, you can be sweet.” She smiled for the first time since arriving at her house. “Last time I wasn’t really thinking. You took control, and it just kind of happened. Now we’ve talked about it, and all this lead-in, it’s just…it’s been a long time and I’m just nervous.” She tried to cover her face with her arm again, but he stopped her and put her palm against his lips. “What if I’m no good? What if it’s just a big disappointment? What if we do it and then you leave tomorrow and I never see you again? And what if everything I just said scares the shit out of you? See, I’m no good at this.”
He’d thought he’d been shocked before, but now he was close to speechless.
“Mi amor, there’s nothing you could possibly do to disappoint me. I can’t make lifetime promises, but I can promise you that no matter what happens I’ll still be here tomorrow. You didn’t disappoint me our first time, and someone who kisses the way you do can’t disappoint in bed. It’s impossible. Let me be in control again. Stop worrying. Stop thinking.”
She took a deep breath. “Will you make love to me? Take charge. Make me forget everything from before this moment?”
Her voice, her hesitation, her vulnerability—it was all a punch in the gut. There was so much meaning in those words, and being honored with a request like that…He suddenly had a lump in his throat.
“You tell me to stop anytime you want, okay?” He ran his thumb over her bottom lip as he moved onto his knees and helped her out of her shirt. His eyes scanned her perfect body. Tanned, toned, and perfect. He couldn’t believe he’d been stupid enough to not take the time to admire her body last time.
Small and delicately written in cursive, she had the word força tattooed under her right breast. He pointed to it. “Force?”
“ ‘Strength’ and ‘force’ are the same words in Portuguese.”
“Why?” He leaned down and swept his tongue over the black lettering.
“Because after Rodrigo, I was so broken for so long until one day I just woke up and decided that I wasn’t going to let any man, or anyone for that matter, have that kind of hold on me. So every day I remember that I have to be strong.”
“Seriously, you need to stop being so sweet. It’s kind of freaking me out.” She laughed and then scanned his chest. “I’ve seen the tattoo on your forearm. But for a badass fighter, that’s all you got? That’s pretty tame.”
“My mother hates tattoos. She promised that if I came home with any more, she’d beat me with a stick.” They both laughed.
“Before today, I didn’t really get it. Not on you, at least.” She read out loud the one on his forearm: “Gentleness can only be expected from the strong.” She kissed it before she continued, “You’re the strongest man I know and yet the softest.”
“You know, I’ve been told I have a temper.”
She snorted. “Just a little.” She kissed him again. “Did you know that the first part of that quote is ‘Only the weak are cruel’?”
“I did know that, brainy,” he said as his hand roamed her body. “Jesus Christ, you are so beautiful.” He kissed her belly button and hooked his fingers through the sides of her blue panties. As soon as he began to pull them off, he saw low on her hip bone, in the same font and size as her other tattoo, the words If you’re ready to die, then you’re ready to live.
He looked up her body to see her looking at him. “I found another one.” Before he had a chance to ask, she said, “Another day.” He nodded before continuing to slide her panties down her legs. He kissed the insides of her legs as he moved back up, his forearms braced on either side of her face, his body over hers. With his knees he nudged her legs apart and positioned himself right…there. One push and he’d be inside.
“You still with me, cariño?”
Her eyes were closed and she nodded. He could see her throat bobbing as she tried to swallow. He suddenly had a lump in his throat too.
With one hand he caressed her face again, and he brought the other hand between their bodies, where he found her more ready than he’d thought she would be. She looked so nervous and scared, he hadn’t thought she was actually turned on, but she was. Boy, was she! He circled her clit with his thumb as he slowly slid a finger inside.
He said into her mouth. “I still can’t believe how tight you are.” Her hands raked his back as he increased the pressure on his thumb. “Tell me what you want.” Her answer was to arch her back, pushing her body closer to him, his fingers deeper inside. “I need words, baby. Tell me what you want.”
“I want you.” Her voice was shaky but her words were assertive. That was what he wanted to hear. To see at least a little of the woman who had been driving him crazy for months. The tigress who’d made him want to fuck her into submission when she gave him one of her tongue lashings at the gym. It was a weird conundrum: hate her or love her. All he knew was that at the moment it was too soon for love, but he definitely didn’t hate her.
He used the same hand to guide himself to her entrance. “You sure? You’re ready? I’ll stop if you need me to.”
“You know I’m not a virgin, Tony.”
“I know, mi amor, but you’re so tight.” He slowly pushed inside.
She let out a breath, her lips a straight line. “K-keep going.”
“Are you sure? Open your thighs further apart for me, cariño.” He closed his eyes as if he were in pain too. “You must have hurt so much last time. Fuck.”
“Stop it.” She pulled him closer. “I don’t regret last time, and I’ll be so pissed at you if you ruin tonight with something we can’t change. So just stop it, please. I’m fine. I need more.”
He pushed in a little deeper. She was warm, wet, and so constricting that it was taking every inch of his self-control not to push inside and lose himself in her. She let out a little whimper that sounded more pained than pleasurable, but then she croaked out, “More.” He leaned in and put his mouth on hers in a devouring, passion-fueled kiss. When she began to kiss him back with ardent desire, he noticed she seemed relaxed, or at the very least distracted, and he took the opportunity to push the rest of the way inside. Once he was all the way in, he stopped.
Stopped, because the pleasure was too much.
Stopped, because she made the sexiest noise he’d ever heard.
Stopped, because the entire situation was making him feel all sorts of things he couldn’t take the time to evaluate at the moment. Feelings that were like none other he’d ever felt before. Feelings he knew he had no right to feel with a woman as delicate as Francesca. He’d been lacking in the feelings department for a long time; this might have been his first true lovemaking experience.
“I know I’m not that experienced in this, but I remember enough to know you gotta move, Tony.” She squeezed the back of his neck and wrapped a leg around one of his calves. “Please.” She reached up and kissed him on the lips. “I’m not made of glass.” She tipped her hips up. “This feels so good.”
“Good is not the word I’d use to describe this.” He began to move a little faster as he kissed her, his thumbs stroking her cheeks, his forearms still on either side of her face. Most women tended to either just lie there and let him do the work or wrap their legs around his waist. She had her legs intertwined with his calves, and as she straightened her legs his body melded more into hers. It was either that or she’d snap his knee, so getting closer to her seemed like the better option. She was trying to control the situation even if she didn’t realize it.
“You’re so fucking tight, I feel like I’m hur—”
“Shut up. Please. You’re making me feel weird.” In one quick motion she flipped him over, and now she was on top.
With a big toothy grin he said, “Oh, baby, you’re in for it now.”
—
What the hell was she thinking, flipping them over? She was not bold or experienced enough to fuck him. Yeah, she had felt brave for a minute there, but what the hell was she supposed to do now? Her fear must have been written all over her face, because Tony pulled her down against his chest and wrapped his arms around her as he moved under her. And God, it felt wonderful—her warm skin against the protective cocoon of his arms. He smelled delicious and he looked even better—the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome. The rough edges of his face were lined with stubble. His hard chest was sprinkled with hair. Tony was all man. She had seen him without a shirt at the Academy countless times, but now, feeling him, his wide frame, thick thighs…it was a heady thing.
She was brought out of her thoughts when he flipped her on her back again. He reached between their bodies and began to stroke her clit with his callused finger as he continued to move in and out. He took one of her nipples into his mouth and nipped. The sensation was too much and the pressure began to build. “Jesus Christ! You’re coming, baby. Open your eyes, let me see you come.”
A few more pumps with his hips and flicks of his fingers, and she came undone. She was not prepared for the orgasm. She’d had orgasms before, but this was something else. Her mind was floating in space, and before she had a chance to come back to earth, he flipped them over so that Francesca was once again on top, but this time he didn’t bring her chest to his. He grabbed her hips and moved her up and down while at the same time moving his hips up. He was using her body for his pleasure, and she loved it more than she’d ever thought possible. Her hands instinctively grabbed the top of the headboard as he continued to push her down onto him, fast and hard. His movements started to become uneven and his grip on her waist a little tighter. Then, with a deep guttural groan, he pushed her down one last time, and his body stiffened.
Unsure what to do, she tried to get off, but with his eyes still closed and a satisfied lazy grin on his face, he pulled her into his body and held her tight while his breathing evened out.
“I want to ask if you’re okay, but I don’t want to piss you off.”
She pushed up to look at his face. “I’m okay.” She smiled back.
H
e kissed her again before rolling her to her back and climbing off the bed. He returned a minute later, but her eyes were already heavy with sleep. He got into the bed, pulled her toward him, and wrapped his arms around her.
“This was so perfect,” was all she managed to say.
“Tomorrow, we talk. Now, just sleep.” He kissed her again before they both drifted off.
Chapter 8
Tony had a dish towel over his bare shoulder and was flipping pancakes when she walked into the kitchen the next morning. “You look good in my kitchen,” Francesca said.
Tony smiled over his shoulder as she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek against his back. “Good morning. How’d you sleep?”
She stretched her arms high and yawned, her body still close to his. “Fantastic.” She reached for a blueberry and popped it in her mouth. “You?”
He didn’t reply, just reached for her waist, pulled her close, and kissed the top of her head.
“I didn’t picture you as a wake-up-early-and-make-breakfast kind of guy.”
“I’m not. Not normally. But I wanted to have a big breakfast before my workout later with Cain. I haven’t trained this hard for a fight in a long time,” he said as he handed her a plate of food and then sat down to his own mountain of food.
“God, you’re a really good cook. Is it just breakfast foods you do?” She was chewing on a crisp piece of bacon and pouring syrup on her pancakes. Damn¸ had bacon ever looked that sexy?
“Nah. My mom taught me how to cook; you’ve just only caught me in the morning. I’ll make you dinner soon. Some nice and fattening Cuban food.”
“Sounds heavenly.” She cut into the pancakes and moaned when she took a bite. “So good.”
He chuckled. “What do you have planned for today?”
“I have to deal with the insurance company and with Fred from Grid Iron.” She reached for a stack of papers. “This is costing us a fortune. Fred is milking this.”