Stronger

by Janet Nissenson

  Cara’s eyes widened in alarm. “Oh, gosh, of course it was! I didn’t mean to imply that, honestly! It doesn’t matter in the least to me where we eat. And you’re right - the food was fantastic. Plus, this place has, well – character - I guess you’d call it.”

  He snorted. “I guess you could say that. I’m just not sure what kind of character it is. My grandmother would have some choice words to describe this joint, none of which I’d be able to translate correctly from Italian.”

  “It’s fine,” she assured him gently, then gave his hand a little squeeze. “The food, the wine, and especially the company. I - well, I just like being with you, no matter where it is.”

  Dante’s heart gave a little lurch, touched by her sweet admission. He picked her small hand up in his and brought it to his lips. “I like being with you, too, Cara mia,” he told her earnestly. “You make me smile just by being in the same room. And if it’s okay with you, I’d like to keep on being with you.”

  “Huh?”

  Her big eyes were enormous in her small face, her jaw hanging open in astonishment at his casually uttered words. He smiled at her obvious shock, and merely tightened his hold on her hand.

  “I’d like to keep seeing you,” he clarified. “Go out to dinner like we are tonight, see a movie or maybe a concert, hang out. Just once or twice a week, especially since you have classes during the week and I try to visit my family on Sundays. And, ah, I’d very much like to continue seeing you in other ways as well - if you catch my meaning.”

  Cara blushed furiously and took a quick gulp of her wine. “You - you mean sleeping together, right?” she asked in a hushed voice, glancing around worriedly to make sure no one could overhear them.

  Dante winked at her. “Well, sleep doesn’t really figure into my plans,” he drawled wickedly. “Just lots of hot sex like we had last night. Frankly, I doubt I could sleep a wink on that futon of yours. And I have no idea how you manage to do so.”

  Her eyes had widened even further at the mention of “hot sex”. “You get used to it,” she acknowledged. “At least it’s better than the bunks in my old dorm room. Or the cot I slept on sophomore year. And before you ask, I slept on a cot because the so-called bedroom in the house I rented with a bunch of other roommates was technically a storage room. Or a closet. I was never really sure which. So at least the futon is a full size and fairly comfortable.”

  “I didn’t mean to sound so critical,” he apologized. “Or like a snob. I admire you like hell for following your dreams, Cara, for doing whatever it takes to get your degree like you promised your mother you would. I just wish things weren’t so hard for you.”

  She shrugged. “It’s not for much longer. Less than eighteen months. I figure I can put up with almost anything for that length of time.”

  “Speaking of time - that reminds me. There’s a few things I want to make sure you understand if we’re going to continue seeing each other,” he cautioned. “First, I’m not looking to have a serious relationship with anyone in the foreseeable future. My last relationship didn’t end very well, and because of that I’m steering clear of any sort of commitments or expectations. So if you’re thinking this is going to be something different, some traditional boyfriend/girlfriend situation, then you need to know the truth.”

  “I don’t have any expectations whatsoever,” she murmured quietly, her eyes downcast. “Frankly, I was shocked when you said you wanted to see me again tonight. As far as relationships go, I’m not exactly at a place in my life where I can make that sort of commitment, either. Between work and school and studying, I hardly have an hour to myself most days. So I’m fine with just hanging out with you once or twice a week.”

  “You’re sure about that?” he pressed. “I want there to always be complete honesty here, Cara. This just isn’t going to be the type of relationship where I bring you home to meet the family, or offer you any sort of promises about how long things might last between us. And when one of us decides it’s time to move on, I don’t want there to be accusations or regrets.”

  “I’m sure.” Cara squeezed his hand. “I promise that if you tell me it’s over that I won’t call you a rotten bastard or throw something at you or - or spread false rumors on social media that you’re lousy in bed.”

  Dante threw back his head and roared with laughter, not caring if his actions caused several patrons to glance his way quizzically. “I think that last part would be the worst of the things you could do,” he joked. “But I am serious about wanting to be honest with you, honey. I’m not in the market for another long term relationship right now, and have no idea when I will be again. And I can already tell you’re the kind of girl who’s going to want it all one of these days - a husband, kids, a big house in the suburbs. Just don’t start thinking that you’re going to have all that with me, okay?”

  “Okay. Besides, as you’re well aware, I’m only twenty-two,” she pointed out. “And while maybe I want that sort of happily ever after one of these days, it’s not going to be for a long time yet. I need to finish my degree, get a kick-ass six-figure job, travel to at least fifty different places, and break a few hearts along the way. You’re not the only one who isn’t interested in a long term relationship right now.”

  He reached across the table to cup her cheek in his palm, regarding her in amusement. “Why do I have the feeling that one of those hearts you’re planning to break is going to be mine?” he teased. “So, now that we’ve got that settled, let’s toast, shall we?”

  She clinked her wine glass against his. “To having fun together, not to mention really good sex, but nothing else,” she offered. “And I promise when it’s over to say only good things about your performance in the sack.”

  Dante guffawed as he took a swig of his wine. “I’ll hold you to that promise, Cara mia,” he vowed.

  Cara’s expression turned solemn all of a sudden as she placed a hand on his forearm. “She really did a number on you, didn’t she?” she asked sadly. “Your last girlfriend, I mean. She must have hurt you very badly when she broke things off.”

  He stiffened beneath her touch, but resisted the urge to yank his arm away. “I never said that she was the one to end things,” he replied coolly.

  “But she was, wasn’t she?” persisted Cara. “And that’s why you’re so gun shy about getting too close to anyone again.”

  “Maybe. But I’d really rather not discuss it.” Dante polished off his wine, then checked his watch. “We’d better head out if we want to make the eight-thirty show. You ready?”

  Cara looked dismayed at his rather brusque brush-off, but merely nodded and stood, picking up her purse and jacket.

  He felt instantly guilty for having snapped at her, and quickly slid an arm around her shoulders, hugging her against his side. He dropped a kiss to the top of her head, and when she beamed up at him, it felt like the last bit of anger and ugliness that he’d been harboring since Katie’s betrayal disappeared in an instant.

  Dante vowed to himself at that moment to forget he’d ever been so stupidly, blindly in love with the beautiful blonde, that he had ever permitted himself to be so vulnerable. He had a warm, willing, and passionate woman by his side, one who was all too eager to help him forget and move on.

  “Well, not only did you follow instructions, you even put sheets and blankets on it this time.”

  Cara laughed nervously as Dante pointed at the futon, which she had indeed made sure was folded out into a bed as he’d requested last night. As for the addition of the bedding, she wished she could say she’d used her best set of sheets, but considering it was her only set that wasn’t exactly the truth.

  “It, um, can get a little drafty in this place, especially at night,” she mumbled. “I thought we’d be, um, warmer this way.”

  He pressed his chest against her back, sliding his arms around her waist as he hugged her close. “Honey, you were practically burning up in my arms last night,” he purred in that d
eep, sexy voice that made her shiver in response. “If things got any warmer in here, we might have to use the fire extinguisher.”

  “I, uh, don’t have one of those,” she offered up weakly.

  Dante chuckled. “Why am I not surprised?” he murmured, his lips caressing the side of her neck and traveling slowly down to her collarbone. At the same time, his hand slid up the side of her ribcage to squeeze her breast, causing her to gasp in surprise.

  “Oh, yes,” she whimpered, her head falling back in surrender against his shoulder as his thumb rubbed over her nipple.

  “Mmm.” He continued to nuzzle her neck as he plucked at the nipple with his index finger and thumb. “You’ve got great tits, honey - big and firm but soft at the same time. Let me see them now.”

  Before she could protest, he was lifting the hem of her sweater up and over her head, and Cara only hoped he didn’t notice that the lace of her pale blue bra was slightly torn or that the straps were starting to fray. Mirai had been all too accurate in describing the condition of her meagre supply of lingerie - most of which wouldn’t be worthy of a thrift shop.

  She gasped again, louder this time, when he unhooked her bra and tossed it aside - practically in one motion - before cupping her bare breasts in his hands.

  “Beautiful,” he rasped, his breath tickling her ear. “You’re all woman, Cara mia, all natural. And all I’ve been able to think about today is having you again, touching these beautiful breasts, and fucking this sweet little pussy of yours.”

  She squirmed against him impatiently, his seductive words and caresses arousing her unbearably. He, too, was already fully aroused, judging by the size and hardness of his erection as he rubbed against the cleft of her buttocks. Deftly, he unzipped her jeans and slid his hand inside her panties - panties that were a darker shade of blue than the bra and had a little rip in the side seam. But the minute his fingers brushed against her clit, Cara forgot all about her mismatched, shabby underthings. And when Dante plunged two fingers as far inside her wetness as they could reach, she forgot just about everything, including her own name.

  “Jesus,” murmured Dante in astonishment as she began to grind herself against his hand, seeking the blissful release he was so capable of giving her. “You’re such a hot little thing, Cara mia, so sensual, so easy to arouse.”

  “Please.” She was already panting, her hips moving in sync with the pump of his fingers inside her body. “Oh, God! I - I need…”

  “Shh.” His lips brushed against her flushed cheek. “I know just what you need, honey. And I’m going to give it to you right now. And then keep on giving it to you over and over again, as many times as you can handle.”

  Cara cried out in reaction as his thumb whisked over her clit, back and forth, while his fingers kept up a steady rhythm as they plunged in and out of her vagina, bringing her closer and closer to the edge. This time the orgasm made her shake so hard that her legs would have surely given out from under her without Dante’s arm hooked around her waist to hold her steady.

  “Easy, honey,” he crooned, lowering her down gently onto the futon before kneeling at the edge of the mattress. “Damn, you’re so responsive, so beautiful. But once again you have way too many clothes on.”

  She was still quivering in reaction, her eyes tightly shut as she struggled to calm her racing pulse, and therefore didn’t think to be embarrassed as he tenderly removed her sneakers and socks before working the jeans that were a little too snug down her legs, quickly followed by her panties.

  Cara gave a little sigh of bliss as he ran his hands up and down her legs, then reached back to squeeze her buttocks. He continued his lazy exploration of her body, cupping her swollen breasts again, pinching the nipples, pressing a kiss to her navel that made her giggle in response.

  But it was Dante’s next move that caused her eyes to fly open in shock, her upper body vaulting halfway off the mattress. He spread her inner thighs apart slowly, as though she was a present he was unwrapping and trying to prolong the anticipation, and then ran his tongue leisurely over and around her vaginal opening.

  “Oh!” she practically squealed in alarm, not having anticipated this particular action. She was also not very experienced in receiving oral sex, and the very few times her previous partners had attempted this very intimate act, it had been sloppy and awkward and, well, kind of gross.

  Dante placed a hand between her breasts, gently but firmly easing her back onto the mattress. “Let me,” was all he said, but she didn’t dare argue with him, especially when it took mere seconds for her to realize that he was very, very good at this.

  “Ohhh.”

  With each slow thrust of his tongue in and out of her pussy, and each time he sucked the swollen little nub of her clit between his lips, her moans of pleasure grew increasingly more vocal. Her pelvis lifted off the mattress in reaction to each lick of his tongue, until his hands bracketed her hips to hold her firmly in place. But he wasn’t able to prevent her upper body from arching up, or her head to cease its thrashing to and fro, or to stifle the long, low cry that she emitted as she came again, and then again as he continued to eat her out with his clever, oh so skillful lips and tongue.

  Cara’s legs felt like wet noodles by the time Dante stood and began to undress, and she had the oddest sensation of drifting aimlessly on a big fluffy cloud somewhere. She had never come close to experiencing the sort of sensations he had coaxed from her body these past two days, had never thought of herself as a particularly sexual person, and had figured that she was destined to be one of those women she’d read about in magazines like Cosmopolitan who had all sorts of issues achieving orgasm. Now she knew that it wasn’t her fault she had never felt this sort of bliss with her previous partners - it had been totally, one hundred percent their fault. Dante was a masterful lover, one who was obviously experienced and highly skilled, and it had taken him mere minutes to reduce her to a puddle of mindless goo.

  “Hey, is anyone at home in there?” asked a teasing male voice, as two fingers tapped her forehead.

  She laughed, her voice husky as she forced her eyes open. A resplendently naked Dante was reclining on his side facing her, propped up on one elbow as he gazed down at her with a definite twinkle in his dark eyes.

  “Just barely,” she confessed. “I think maybe I was out drifting on some clouds for a few minutes. That was - intense, for lack of a better term.”

  He grinned, brushing a damp strand of hair behind her ears. “Intense will do. And I hope it was enjoyable as well.”

  “God, couldn’t you tell?” she exclaimed, pushing herself up to a sitting position. “That was like - wow! I’m just glad my landlady is mostly deaf, because I seem to recall I was screaming pretty loudly there.”

  Dante guffawed, clearly amused by her candor. “It wasn’t quite that loud,” he assured her. “And even though the rest of this place is on the verge of disrepair, at least the walls seem pretty well insulated. Besides, even if your landlady heard you, she probably got a thrill out of it.”

  Cara shrieked with laughter. “Omigod, you are so bad! Actually, you’re really, really good. Spectacular, even. I’ve never, ever come close to - well, coming that way. So, thanks, I guess.”

  He caressed her cheek tenderly. “No need to thank me, bella. Especially since the pleasure was very, very mutual. Seeing how responsive you are, how much I can arouse you, makes me feel - manly I guess is the word. My ego took something of a battering after that breakup I mentioned, but being with you these past twenty four hours or so has more or less healed it all up.”

  Impulsively, she wrapped her arms around his muscular torso, then pressed a kiss to the base of his throat. “How could any woman be so stupid as to think she could ever find a better man than you?” she asked guilelessly. “You’re gorgeous and hunky and such a fantastic lover that my legs are still shaking. Not to mention funny and kind and a real gentleman. And you like the same kind of pizza I do, and drive a hot car, and
- oh!”

  Dante had swiftly rolled her beneath his body as he loomed over her, his gaze lingering on the swell of her breasts. “Now why,” he growled, running a finger down her cleavage, “would you ever imagine I’d want to bring up the subject of another woman when I already have a very beautiful, very passionate, and very naked one right beside me?”

  Cara gulped at the ferocity of his expression. “Um, because I’m still kind of brain dead from three orgasms in a row and can’t think straight?”

  He threw back his head and laughed, her reply evidently the right one. “Well, then,” he teased, “maybe I should forget about the other three I was planning to give you tonight. Especially since you still have to do homework tomorrow, and will definitely need to have all of your brain cells fully functioning.”

  She pretended to scowl as she playfully socked him in the shoulder, wincing a bit as she realized just how hard his muscles were. “I’m very good at multi-tasking, though,” she joked back. “At work I can be talking to a client on the phone, printing research reports for Angela, sending an email, and eating my lunch all at the same time.”

  Dante shook his head. “Uh, uh. No multi-tasking allowed when we’re both naked, and especially when it’s my turn to have an orgasm or two. I want your full, undivided attention when you’re in bed with me. Or whatever this thing is we’re on top of right now. Got it?”

  She could only nod helplessly, then moan softly as he captured her lips in a blistering kiss, his tongue plunging inside her mouth relentlessly. Once again his hands were seemingly everywhere on her body - cupping, squeezing, caressing, arousing - and Cara felt surrounded by his big, hard body, imprisoned within his strong arms. But it was the very sweetest of prisons, and rather than feel frightened or trapped, she had never felt so protected and cared for in her life.