Stronger

by Janet Nissenson

  Dante continued to rest on his haunches as he gazed down at her, then slowly trailed a single fingertip down between her breasts. “You are so fucking sexy,” he told her, his voice husky with lust. “Except that you’re still wearing too many clothes. These will definitely get in the way.”

  She sucked in a breath as he worked the lacy black panties down over her legs until they landed on the floor. He made quick work of unbuckling her high heeled sandals, then took an extra moment or two to give her right foot a little squeeze.

  “You have such tiny little feet,” he mused. “You know what they say about a man’s shoe size being equal to the size of his dick? I always wondered if the same was true for a woman. Let’s find out, hmm?”

  He took hold of his straining cock and placed the tip at the opening of her body, then eased himself inside a little at a time. Cara gasped with each gradual thrust, wondering dizzily how much more she could possibly take, glancing down to where their bodies were joined worriedly.

  “Easy, honey,” he soothed, his hand rubbing her hip reassuringly. “Has it been awhile for you?”

  She nodded, closing her eyes in embarrassment that he could tell how inexperienced she was. “Uh, huh. Al-almost two years.”

  “Shh.” Dante leaned over her, his bare chest pressed flush against her breasts as he kissed her cheek tenderly. “Then I’ll go easy this first time, okay? Even though what I really want is to fuck you until you’re screaming my name at the top of your lungs.” He cupped her breast, brushing his thumb over the nipple. “But considering how tight you feel, and how long it’s been for you, that will have to wait for the next time. Easy now, hmm?”

  “Ahhh!”

  Cara dug her fingernails into the futon mattress, her hips lifting off the bed as he thrust deeper this time, until he was buried snugly inside her tight, wet pussy. It had, in fact, been such a long time since she’d had sex that it seemed her body had all but forgotten what it felt like. And she’d never, ever, had a partner as well endowed as Dante, never had sex with someone who obviously knew exactly what he was doing.

  She willingly let him take charge, let him lift one then the other leg to wrap around his hips, a movement that only intensified the sensations he was coaxing from her body. For a short while he levered himself up over her prone form, his hands braced on either side of her as he fucked her with slow, deep thrusts, staring down at her the entire time and compelling her to maintain eye contact. And then he lowered himself until their bare skin connected, the coarseness of his chest hair abrading her sensitive nipples, as the force and rapidity of his thrusts increased. The last coherent thought Cara could summon up before he took her over the edge was that if this was what he considered “going easy” on her, she wasn’t at all sure she’d be able to handle anything more intense.

  And then any sort of thinking was off the table as she felt the unfamiliar approach of her climax – unfamiliar because she’d never been able to orgasm vaginally before, only through the stimulation of a hand and/or tongue. It was far, far more intense this way, touching every nerve ending in her body, and causing her toes to curl up in reaction at the same moment his name escaped her lips. It wasn’t the scream he’d wanted, barely more than a whisper, but Dante seemed more than satisfied with her response.

  “Cara bella,” he murmured hoarsely in her ear, his big body still thrusting into hers as he prolonged his own release. “Cara mia. So sweet, so responsive. So lovely.”

  She clutched his shoulders as the spasms continued to reverberate through her body, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck as she did so. That small, innocent gesture, however, proved to be all Dante needed to climax himself, and he was nowhere near as quiet as she’d been. The somewhat rickety futon frame shook with the power of his release, his big body shuddering almost violently as he came, his dark head thrown back as he shouted out incoherent words. Cara peeked up at him and couldn’t suppress a gasp at how magnificent he looked this way, how primitive and male – the muscles in his arms and abs contracting, the fine layer of sweat that covered his chest and face, his dark hair curling damply around his beautiful face. Instinctively, she cupped his cheek, silently offering him solace, and he emitted a long, low groan as he claimed her swollen lips yet again in a deep, almost savage kiss.

  He collapsed onto the mattress next to her, breathing heavily, one sinewy arm draped over her torso as if to hold her in place.

  ‘Like I’d want to actually move anytime soon,’ she thought dreamily. ‘Or ever, for that matter.’

  She rested her head on his shoulder, not quite able to believe that it was actually Dante beside her – the guy she’d been crushing on and fantasizing about for more than six months. Cara had an admitted weakness for hot guys, had been gullible and naïve in the past when it came to her choice in men, but she knew somehow that Dante was different from any other guy she’d ever met. And it wasn’t just because he was older, more sophisticated, more experienced. No, it was simply because he was a genuinely nice guy, someone who treated women with respect and consideration, and who cared about the feelings of others. And even if he’d only taken her out to dinner tonight – and to bed afterwards – because he felt sorry for her spending her birthday alone – well, Cara didn’t really care very much. Because if she was only to have this one night with him, what a night it had turned out to be! This night had far surpassed any expectations she might have harbored, never having anticipated that Dante might actually be physically attracted to her. It was, she thought dreamily, the best birthday present ever!

  Dante lifted his head from the mattress with a groan before pressing a kiss to her shoulder and smoothing the long, tumbled mass of her hair off her neck. “Hey,” he murmured, smiling at her gently. “You doing okay there, honey?”

  Cara smiled back at him. “Oh, yeah. Way more than okay. That was – beyond words, you know? Which considering how much I can babble at times is pretty rare for me.”

  He laughed. “I don’t mind your babbling, as you call it,” he assured her. “I told you before I like the fact that you’re so open and honest. Don’t ever stop doing that, okay? You have no idea how refreshing it is to know someone who doesn’t play dumb emotional games or pretends to be something they aren’t.”

  She nodded. “I promise. Mostly because I’ve never been very good at playing any sort of games – emotional or otherwise. My dad was disappointed when I proved to be a total klutz at soccer and too short to play basketball and decided to take ballet and tap classes instead.”

  Dante scowled. “The more I hear about this father of yours the less I like him. So we should probably stop talking about him. Be right back, okay?”

  He dropped a kiss on her forehead before easing himself off the futon and heading in the direction of the bathroom. Cara could hear sounds of running water, and shivered a little without either bedcovers or Dante’s body heat. Belatedly she became aware of the fact that she was stark naked, with all of her “jiggly bits” on full display, and was thankful for the dim lighting of the room. She sat up, pulling her knees to her chest, and then wrapping her arms around her shins. This position wouldn’t hide everything, but it helped.

  Dante strode out of the bathroom, having disposed of the condom, and walked over to the futon proudly naked. Cara’s mouth watered at the sight he made – all hard, rippling muscle, smooth olive skin, and chiseled features. She still couldn’t quite believe that someone as gorgeous and hunky and hot as he was had just made love to her so thoroughly and with such passion. She knew without being told that Dante could have most any woman he set his sights on, that women would flock to him without the slightest bit of encouragement. And out of the countless number of women in this city he could have had sex with tonight, for some baffling reason he’d chosen her – naïve, geeky, and insecure Cara with her ever increasing list of body flaws and other shortcomings. It was only the unfamiliar soreness of her private parts that served as confirmation that it had, in fact, been her that
Dante had chosen as his lover this evening.

  He sat down on the mattress beside her, this time tucking a long strand of hair behind her ear.

  “I should be going,” he told her gently. “It’s late, and I’m pretty sure I wore you out a little while ago.”

  She unsuccessfully stifled a yawn. “Um, maybe a little,” she admitted. “But I don’t mind in the least. It’s, well, a good tired, you know?”

  Dante grinned wickedly. “Yeah, I do know. In fact, it was so good that I think we ought to do it again. Not,” he added, holding up a hand, “tonight, however. I could tell it’s been awhile for you, honey, and even though I went easy you’re probably going to be a little sore. Besides, I didn’t exactly plan on this happening, and only had the one condom. But I would like to see you again. Tomorrow night, in fact, if you’re free.”

  Cara gaped at him in astonishment. “T-tomorrow? Really? I didn’t think you’d want to – I mean, yes, yes, of course I’m free! I’d love to see you again tomorrow night.”

  He tapped her playfully on the bridge of her nose. “There’s that honesty I like so much again. The more time I spend around you the more I’m convinced that you wouldn’t know how to be anything but completely open and spontaneous. So tell me – how does pizza and a movie sound?”

  She wondered if her features looked as awestruck as she felt. “They sound great.”

  Dante stood and began to pull his clothes on. “Any particular movie you’ve been wanting to see?”

  She shrugged, not wanting to admit how long it had been since she’d gone out to see a movie given that her meagre budget wouldn’t stretch that far. “Not really. At least, I haven’t looked to see what’s out in the theaters right now. Was there something you had in mind?”

  He looked a bit sheepish as he finished buttoning his shirt. “Uh, I don’t suppose you like action flicks, do you? There’s a new Fast and the Furious movie out that I’ve been wanting to see.”

  Cara clapped her hands in delight. “Oh, I love those movies! The car chase scenes are the best ever! I’d love to see that with you.”

  “Really?” he asked in disbelief. “You aren’t just saying that, are you?”

  She shook her head vehemently. “Nope. If I didn’t like the idea I wouldn’t say so.”

  Dante looked both relieved and pleased. “I’m not sure anyone I’ve ever dated before actually liked those sort of movies. As for the pizza, I know of a little family run place in North Beach that’s the best I’ve ever had. It’s something of a hole in the wall, so don’t expect much.”

  “It sounds great,” enthused Cara. “And I’m not fussy about where we go.”

  She didn’t add that she would go anywhere with him, no matter how casual or inexpensive the place was, because being with him was the real motivation and not the sort of meal they would have.

  He was fully dressed now, making her even more aware of her own nudity, but Dante seemed not to mind in the least.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow evening then,” he told her. “I hope you had a good time tonight. I know I did. But do me one favor, hmm?”

  Cara nodded. “Sure. What is it?”

  He winked at her. “Make sure this thing is already opened up when I pick you up, okay?” He nudged the wooden futon frame with his foot, and she laughed as she nodded in understanding.

  He bent and gave her a hard, swift kiss before letting himself out the door. Less than a minute later she heard his car engine start up as he drove away.

  Any disappointment she might have felt that he hadn’t stayed longer, or asked if he could stay the night, was allayed by the reminder that she would be seeing him again tomorrow evening. And that what had happened tonight was much more than just the best birthday ever – it was a dream come true.

  Chapter Eight

  Dante took a sip of the robust Chianti that he’d ordered to accompany their pizza - not that he’d had a lot to pick from since Pasquale’s had a very limited wine list. He hadn’t been exaggerating the previous evening when he’d told Cara that this place was a real hole in the wall. If anything, he might have been overly generous in describing it.

  But judging from the animated expression on her face, Cara didn’t seem to mind in the least. She’d gone along willingly with his suggestion about ordering red wine instead of a beer, and confessed somewhat sheepishly that she had more or less sworn off of beer after a few nasty hangovers during her first two years of college.

  And his already favorable opinion of her had only soared when he discovered she liked the exact same pizza toppings he did - mushrooms, salami, and black olives. It seemed, in fact, that they had quite a lot in common, and liked many of the same things. And while it was possible that Cara was just pretending to share the same likes and interests as he did to please him, he truly didn’t think so. She seemed too honest to fake it that way, too inexperienced, and simply too damned nice.

  He frowned a little as he observed her across the small, well-worn wooden table as she munched on a slice of pizza. Dressed in jeans, a cotton sweater, and sneakers, her face mostly free of makeup, and her long hair pulled back into a thick ponytail, she looked a lot younger than she had the previous evening. And without heels on she was even more petite, the top of her head not quite reaching his shoulder.

  Last night, with Cara all dressed up and looking far more sophisticated than usual, the age difference between them, as well as her fresh-faced innocence, hadn’t bothered him so much. And her surprisingly passionate, uninhibited response to him physically had given him cause to think that perhaps she wasn’t quite as naive and inexperienced as he had always assumed.

  But this evening she was back to looking like the college student that she was - hell, maybe even a high school girl, he thought in revolt. Which gave him serious cause to start re-thinking the plans he’d begun to format earlier in the day.

  He had never intended, of course, for things to go as far as they had last night. After driving her home after dinner, he had only meant to bid her good night and be on his way. But then Cara had kissed him on the cheek - a sweet, innocent gesture, not so different from something one of his sisters might have done. But his body had sure as hell recognized that this was not his sister but instead a beautiful, sexy, and willing woman. And since he’d rarely been one to refuse such a woman, he had taken full advantage of everything she had offered, especially since he hadn’t had sex in over two months.

  Cara’s unexpectedly passionate response to him had been such a pleasant surprise, in fact, that he’d impulsively asked her out again this evening. And during his workout this morning, and while running errands this afternoon, Dante had mulled over the possibility of seeing Cara on a regular basis. It would, of course, have to be a no-strings-attached sort of relationship, with zero promises made, and any talk of the future would have to be off the table. There was no way he wanted to become seriously involved with anyone so soon after the stinging betrayal he’d suffered at Katie’s hands, and certainly not with someone as young and inexperienced as Cara. In fact, he should be having his head examined for even considering the idea.

  But despite her relative innocence, Cara was also mature and sensible, and it was obvious that she’d been forced to look out for herself for a long time now. Dante couldn’t think of even one other female of his acquaintance – save perhaps for his mother and grandmother – who would have demonstrated the sort of strength and resolve Cara had these past few years. She was determined to get her degree, to honor her mother’s dying wish, and fully prepared to make whatever sacrifices necessary in order to see her goals through.

  And what sacrifices she’d made. To call the room she lived in an apartment was being overly generous, he thought sardonically. There wasn’t even a full kitchen, he’d noticed, just a few cabinets, a cooktop, and dorm room sized refrigerator. The bathroom had old, barely functioning fixtures, and was so tiny he’d barely been able to squeeze himself inside to dispose of the condom and wa
sh up. The lighting was dim, the carpet well worn, and there had been a discernible mildewed odor clinging to the place that had been apparent, even with Cara’s attempts to mask it using bowls of scented potpourri. The few pieces of furniture she’d possessed had looked ready to fall apart, and while he’d had sex before in some rather questionable places - the back and front seats of a car, an elevator, the supply room of his family’s restaurant - fucking on a futon had been a first for him.

  Dante had been more than a little appalled that she didn’t even have a proper bed, and had wondered again how a man - a real man - could willingly allow his own daughter to live in such conditions. But from what he’d been able to glean from Cara, it seemed that her worthless father had more or less forgotten that she even existed.

  He felt an odd sense of protectiveness towards her as a result - odd because he was really just getting to know her and had no obligations of any sort towards her. But that desire of wanting to help her, to maybe make her life a little bit better, had played into this idea of having some sort of relationship with her - definitely a friends with benefits type of arrangement, and where it would be clearly understood that when it was over they would each walk away with no regrets or recriminations.

  Dante refilled their wine glasses. “Two slices left. One for each of us.”

  Cara shook her head and groaned, patting her belly. “No way could I eat another bite. I mean, it was delicious, but I’m really full. And before you ask - no, I am not just saying that!”

  He grinned, then snagged one of the two remaining slices of pizza. “I wasn’t going to argue with you. I’d forgotten how good the pizza was at this place. It’s been awhile since I last ate here.”

  She took a sip of her wine. “It doesn’t seem like the kind of place a guy who drives an Aston Martin would eat at.”

  Dante shrugged. “Maybe not so much in recent years, but I didn’t always have money. And I can appreciate good food no matter the surroundings. I know it’s not as fancy as last night’s meal, but I hope it was okay with you.”