Stronger

by Janet Nissenson

  “I want you from behind this time,” he whispered in a rough voice, already pulling her to her knees and positioning her exactly as he wanted. “And you’re more than ready for this, honey, I made sure of that. This sweet, tight little pussy is all primed for me, all wet and juicy.”

  Cara knew he was right, knew now that he’d intentionally used his fingers, mouth, and tongue to get her good and aroused and yes - very, very wet - in preparation for this. But she still couldn’t help the sharp, indrawn hiss she made as he inserted just the tip of his rock hard cock - already sheathed in a condom - inside of her. Just like she couldn’t control the cry of surprise that escaped her throat when he suddenly thrust all the way in, burying himself to the balls, and pressing his chest against her back.

  “Easy, honey,” he crooned, one hand stroking her hip reassuringly as he remained otherwise still, letting her get used to the feel of him filling her up. “Christ, you feel so damned good this way, Cara, so incredibly tight. I want to make this last, but I’m not sure I can this first time. Or hold back for much longer.”

  “Then don’t,” she urged, bending forward until her breasts were crushed against the mattress, a position that made her ass stick up in the air. “Don’t hold back, Dante. Take what you need, as hard as you need to.”

  He made a raw sound, almost savage, pulling out of her pussy until just the head of his penis was still inside of her. He paused for a moment or two, then shocked her speechless as he rammed his cock so hard and so deep inside of her that she had to shove a fist in her mouth to stifle her screams. She clutched handfuls of the bedcovers, holding on as if for dear life as he continued to plunder her body. She’d never been fucked this hard before, none of her former so-called lovers having anywhere near Dante’s skill or endurance or strength, and Cara began to see stars swim in front of her eyes with each powerful thrust of his cock. She wasn’t sure if what she was feeling was pleasure or pain or maybe a little bit of both, and from some vague, foggy corner of her brain found herself hoping that he didn’t somehow manage to tear her in half.

  He was bracing himself with one hand, using the other to continue caressing her body - her ass, hip, thigh. His palm slid down over her belly and past her softly curling pubic hair until his clever fingers once again found her clit, causing Cara to gasp in surprise.

  “Come with me now, Cara mia,” he grunted. “I’m so fucking close, not gonna last much longer, so let yourself go with it.”

  And with his fingers pinching her super-sensitized clit, his cock fucking her almost ruthlessly, and his lips pressed against her throat, she did as he commanded - coming harder and longer than she could have ever imagined doing, all while Dante was finding his own release. Her vagina convulsed around his cock, squeezing him even tighter, and the words he shouted out in a guttural voice were nothing near recognizable.

  But as he held her close within his arms for long minutes afterwards, stroking her hair and rubbing her back comfortingly, he spoke to her in Italian - words and phrases meant to soothe and calm and praise - and she recognized every single word, even if she didn’t fully understand them all.

  Chapter Nine

  May

  Dante breathed a sigh of relief as he pulled up to a parking space just one door down from Cara’s place. Parking spots in this tired looking residential neighborhood had been at a premium each of the previous times he’d picked her up or dropped her off here, and he had worried a bit about the safety of his car each time. Of course, every one of his vehicles was equipped with both a state of the art alarm, and also a sophisticated tracking system in case the car was stolen. But given how obsessive and protective he was about his collection of automobiles, he didn’t like taking any chances.

  When he had been visiting his family last Sunday, in fact, he’d half-seriously considered temporarily trading one of his cars for his cousin Eddie’s somewhat battered pickup truck. But not only would such a move have entailed an admission that he was dating again - something that he just wasn’t ready to share with any of his family or friends - but he had shuddered at the thought of actually driving such a vehicle. The truck, which wasn’t even very old, had several dents and scratches, was covered with splotches of dried mud, and the interior was littered with papers, food containers, and a pair of Eddie’s work boots. Dante prided himself on taking excellent care of his cars - all twelve of them - inside and out, and was admittedly too much of a snob to slum it in a ride like his cousin’s.

  He made sure to securely lock the BMW sedan he was driving tonight and engage the alarm system before walking the short distance to Cara’s. His arms were loaded with a bottle of a very expensive Cabernet, a bouquet of assorted spring flowers, and a bakery box containing a variety of lavishly decorated cupcakes. This was his contribution to the dinner Cara had insisted on cooking for him.

  She’d made the offer last night after they had dined at an English pub on greasy but delicious fish and chips, declaring that since he had treated her to dinner several times already this was the very least she could do to return the favor. He had resisted the idea at first, insisting that she didn’t need to feel obligated, and that he was well aware of how hard she worked between her job, school, and homework. He hadn’t dared to admit that the real reasons for his reluctance were twofold - one, he knew how little money she had, even if she had never once complained about her financial situation, and he didn’t want her to tax her already lean budget by cooking him dinner; and second, despite her claims of being a good cook, he remained skeptical on the matter. Dante honestly couldn’t think of one other woman he’d ever dated who had offered to cook for him, figuring there was a reason why – they were simply incapable of doing so.

  But there was no way he was going to hurt Cara’s feelings, either by acknowledging her lack of funds or by expressing doubt about her culinary skills.

  ‘At least you know the dessert is edible,’ he joked to himself as he knocked on her door. ‘Cupcakes and wine could probably hold you over until you get home.’

  Cara’s cheeks were flushed becomingly as she opened the door, her hair pulled back into an untidy braid, and her face bare of makeup. But the smile that lit up her face was really all she needed to make her look beautiful, and he couldn’t resist leaning down to place a soft kiss on her lush lips.

  “Hi,” she greeted breathlessly. “Sorry, I’m a little scattered right now. I miscalculated how long it would take for the sauce to finish cooking, so I’m a few minutes behind.”

  He shook his head, following her inside and firmly locking the door behind them. “I’m actually five minutes early. I wanted to make sure I got a decent parking space. Anything I can help with?”

  “No, no. Honestly, it’s almost done, I just need to let it simmer a few more minutes. Here, let me take those from you. What beautiful flowers, Dante! I think I have a vase stashed away somewhere, something that belonged to my grandmother. Ah, here it is!”

  Dante had realized early on that Cara tended to babble when she was either nervous, excited, or uncertain about something, and apparently this was one of those times. She was on her hands and knees, the upper half of her body practically hidden inside a kitchen cabinet as she searched for the elusive vase. She emerged with it clutched triumphantly in her hands a moment later, then quickly filled it with water before arranging the bouquet inside it. She dashed over to the cooktop where two pots were bubbling, one with what he assumed was some sort of pasta while the other emitted an incredibly delicious aroma of tomatoes, garlic, and spices.

  “I know it’s practically passé to cook pasta for an Italian boy, especially one whose family owns a restaurant, but I think you’ll like the sauce,” she told him anxiously, stirring the contents of first one and then the other pot. “It’s just a basic tomato sauce with sausage and peppers but it’s got a little kick to it. When you told me you like things on the spicy side, I figured you might enjoy this.”

  He placed his hands on her shoulders, suddenly
realizing she was barefoot and thus even shorter than usual. “I’m sure I’m going to love it,” he assured her, taking a deep, appreciative sniff. “Can I have a taste?”

  “Sure.”

  Cara held the wooden spoon up to his lips as he swallowed the surprisingly tasty pasta sauce.

  “Mmm. Delizioso,” he pronounced, smacking his lips. “As good as anything I’ve ever tasted from my grandmother’s kitchen. Though I’d never dare to tell her so.”

  She laughed, returning the spoon to the pot and giving it a few more stirs. “It should be ready in five more minutes. I just need to toss the salad and slice the bread, and..”

  “And relax and take a deep breath and have a glass of this cabernet first,” declared Dante. “Not to mention give me a real hello kiss, not just that little peck.”

  “Oh. Oh, gosh, sorry.” Cara hastily wiped her hands on a dish towel before sliding her hands up his chest. She had to rise up on her toes in order to reach his neck. “Um, hello.”

  The laughter rumbled up in his chest even as she pressed her lips against his, but then faded just as swiftly as she deepened the kiss. He groaned, his hands sliding to her denim covered ass and lifting her a couple of inches off the ground. He wondered vaguely if he would ever stop being surprised at her passionate responses to him, at how spontaneous and affectionate she was. Or how quickly he could become aroused by this young, guileless girl.

  Dante set her on her feet, then took a step or two back. “Much better,” he teased, pinching her playfully on the chin. “But if we keep that up much longer, all of your hard work making dinner will be for nothing. Pasta tends to get mushy pretty fast if you let it simmer too long.”

  “Uh, huh.” She stared up at him, a dreamy expression on her face, her full lips looking more bee-stung than usual. “I, um, guess I’d better drain it then.”

  He gave her a pat on the butt as she turned her attention back to their dinner, and began searching for wine glasses. He found a couple tucked in the back of a cabinet, and assumed these were the only ones she owned. A quick rummage through one of the two drawers unearthed a somewhat suspect cork puller, but he managed to open the cabernet after a few attempts. Dante made a mental note to bring her a better corkscrew the next time he was over, given that he probably owned half a dozen of them. A few extra wine glasses wouldn’t be a bad idea, either.

  “Here you go. You told me that cabernet was your favorite, so I think you’ll like this. It won some sort of wine competition last year.”

  Cara took a slow sip of the wine, as though savoring its taste on her tongue, then moaned in pleasure. “Oh, God! This is without a doubt the best wine I’ve ever had! Though considering I usually drink stuff with a twist off top, or Two-Buck Chuck - which now costs three dollars, by the way - most anything would be an improvement.”

  He nearly choked on the sip of wine he’d begun to swallow. “I would hope so,” he replied with a hoarse cough. “This cost a hell of a lot more than three bucks. It’s Silver Oak, honey, one of the top Napa Valley cabs around. Instead of a single digit price tag it’s more like three.”

  She gaped at him in disbelief. “Please tell me you did not drop a hundred dollars on a single bottle of wine! Omigod, Dante, I’m trying to pay you back a little by cooking you dinner, and here you are bringing me flowers and a ridiculously expensive bottle of wine, and - oh, no! Please tell me those aren’t cupcakes in that box. Because I’ve peeked in the window of that bakery and kept right on walking since each cupcake costs something ridiculous like..”

  Dante placed a hand firmly over her mouth. “Shh. You’re talking too much. And I already told you, Cara - you do not have to pay me back for anything, all right? I happen to enjoy your company very much, and it’s been nothing but my pleasure to take you out to dinner these past few weeks. So rather than argue with me about the wine and flowers and a few little cupcakes, just smile and say thank you. Okay?”

  She nodded and took another sip of her wine. “Okay. Thank you. Very, very much. And even though a hundred dollars is an insane amount to spend on a bottle of wine, it’s worth it. This is - orgasmic.”

  “Ah, none of that!” he scolded playfully. He bent and gave her earlobe the tiniest of nips. “I’m the only one allowed to give you orgasms, no matter how good the wine might be.”

  She laughed along with him, though he didn’t miss the hungry look in her big eyes at the mention of the “O” word. She was, he thought with a deep sense of carnal satisfaction, really turning out to be a very, very pleasant surprise with her depth of sensuality, and how eagerly she responded to him. What she lacked in experience she more than made up for in enthusiasm and unabashed passion.

  And the surprises continued as they ate dinner at the scuffed, rickety little table. Rather than be barely edible as he’d feared, the food was delicious, one of the best home-cooked meals he could ever recall having. In addition to the perfectly cooked penne pasta with its spicy sausage and pepper sauce, Cara had made a simple green salad with a dressing of olive oil and balsamic vinegar, and set out a loaf of crunchy sourdough bread. It was exactly the sort of meal he had enjoyed at his mother’s or grandmother’s house hundreds of times over the years, and every bit as delicious as one they might have cooked.

  “How’d you get to be such a good cook?” he asked after finishing off a second helping of everything. “Most girls your age can barely figure out how to fix a Cup of Noodles.”

  Cara gave him a scolding look. “Women who have reached the ripe old age of twenty-two should no longer be referred to as girls,” she corrected. “As for the cooking, my mom enrolled me in a couple of summer classes at our local Park and Rec when I was in middle school. I always teased her that she had ulterior motives in doing that, though, because she hated to cook and secretly hoped I’d take over that chore.”

  He slathered butter on his third piece of the bread. “And did you?”

  She shrugged. “More or less, though it was a joint effort most nights. My father, of course, was completely useless in the kitchen, as he was in just about everything else.”

  “What about when your mother got sick? I would hope he was supportive during such a difficult time.”

  Cara shook her head. “You’d like to think so, wouldn’t you? I mean, he did some stuff, mostly ran errands to pick up prescriptions or groceries, but nowhere near as much as he should have done. My mom’s friends pitched in, though, and gave me a lot of help.”

  Dante frowned. “So you were your mother’s primary caregiver? Weren’t you still in school back then?”

  “When the hospice nurses told us that Mom needed pretty much round the clock care, I had initially planned to do a home study program so that I take care of her. The cost of hiring home health care wasn’t something my father thought we could afford. Fortunately, a friend of the family who was a retired nurse volunteered to stay with her during the day so I was able to keep going to classes.”

  He read between the lines and figured out that Cara must have looked after her mother the rest of the time - after school, nights, weekends - a hell of a lot to ask of a high school senior. His poor opinion of her father sank even deeper at this revelation, and he muttered a few choice curse words in Italian beneath his breath.

  “More pasta? Or salad? There’s some of each left.”

  Dante groaned, shaking his head and patting his stomach. “Thanks, but I couldn’t manage another bite right now. Those cupcakes will need to wait awhile. Here, I’ll help you clear the table and then we can finish off the wine. And don’t argue,” he added sternly as she began to protest. “I might own a dozen cars and live in a penthouse now, but my first job in high school was being a busboy in the family restaurant. Believe me, I cleared more dirty dishes off the table than you’d ever want to imagine.”

  “Okay,” agreed Cara reluctantly. “Though this isn’t turning out to be much of a thank you dinner, you know. First you bring wine and flowers and dessert, and now you’re helping
to clear the table.”

  He leaned over the table and dropped an affectionate kiss on her forehead. “And I already told you that there’s no need to thank me, honey. The pleasure of your company is all the thanks I need.”

  She beamed at him. “That’s one of the sweetest things anyone has ever said to me.”

  Dante furrowed his brow at her in a mock-ferocious scowl. “Word of advice, okay? Do not tell a guy that he’s sweet. It totally ruins the big, tough macho man image we all work so hard to keep up.”

  Cara walked the short distance to his side of the table and wrapped her arms around his neck, giving him a loud smooch on the cheek. “It was still a really, really sweet thing to say,” she murmured. “Even coming from a big, tough macho man like you.”

  She squealed in surprise as he pulled her onto his lap, and then held onto his neck for dear life. At the feel of her soft buttocks rubbing against his crotch, he was instantly hard.

  “Does that feel sweet to you?” he growled, intentionally grinding his erection against the cleft of her ass.

  Cara shook her head, wiggling around until she was straddling him. “I, ah, wouldn’t use that particular word to describe that part of your anatomy, no.”

  His hands ran up and down her denim covered thighs before starting on the buttons of her white cotton shirt. “Yeah? What words would you use then?”

  She whimpered as he dispensed of first the blouse then her bra in mere seconds before cupping her opulent breasts in his palms. “Oh, ohh. Um, I - I guess I would describe it as - oh, God - hard and - and huge and, well, how about talented?”

  Dante snickered, even as he bent his head to lick each of her nipples in turn. “I’ll take talented over sweet any day. And speaking of sweet, let’s get these clothes off of you so I can have my first dessert of the evening.”

  He surged to his feet, the unexpected movement causing Cara to quickly wrap her legs around his waist as he carried her the short distance to the futon - which had thankfully been folded out into a bed. He deposited her rather clumsily onto the mattress while he made short work of his own clothes, watching her all the while as she tugged her jeans and underwear off.