by Chelle Bliss
But when she moves her hands down the front of my stomach, slipping them into the waistband of my shorts, I just about lose control. Her fingers are met by the tip of my cock, begging for more than a little attention.
“Oh my God,” she whispers and pulls away, glancing down. “Is that…”
“Pierced, baby.”
“I’ve never…”
“I’m about to blow your mind.”
“I gotta see,” she says and slides off the counter, yanking on my shorts on the way. Her head’s against the cabinets, and she’s staring at my package, which is currently waving at her, hoping she’s going to do more than look. “Can I touch it?”
I’m like a proud peacock, showing off my goods and hoping like hell she digs the fuck out of the piercing. “As much as you want,” I say with a smile, stroking her hair and stopping myself from pulling her lips toward my mouth.
Using the tip of her finger, she traces the metal piercing, scraping my super-sensitive skin with her fingernail. I suck in a breath and close my eyes, rocking forward toward her touch.
“It’s amazing,” she whispers, and her warm breath glides across the tip of my cock, turning the throb into a full-on ache. “Can you feel it?”
“My cock?” I ask, tangling my fingers in her hair and praying for a little mouth action.
“No, the piercing. Does it feel different?”
“It’ll pull a little when I’m in you, but you’ll feel more than I will because of it.”
She glances up, lips parted. “I’ll feel it?”
“Wanna find out?” I waggle my eyebrows, hoping the show-and-tell portion of the evening is over.
She licks her lips, and my knees go weak. She grabs on to my ass with one hand, digging her fingernails in, and steadies me like she knew I was about to go down. “It’s so…” She moves closer, and I can feel the heat of her skin. “So shiny.”
I don’t care if she thinks it’s blazing like the Statue of Liberty on the Fourth of July, as long as it makes her happy and doesn’t scare her away. Between the size of my cock and the piercing, I’ve had more than one woman walk out the door practically in tears.
“Touch it again,” I tell her. “Explore all you want.” I’m being an asshole, but God, I’m so horny I’m on the verge of pulling her off the floor, tearing off her jeans, and ramming my dick into her warm, wet pussy.
She leans forward, and I hold my breath and squeeze my eyes shut. I can’t watch. I can’t move. I’m too turned on to do anything but stand here, waiting for the moment her…
Fuck. Her tongue tugs at the piercing, and shock waves radiate through my system. Every muscle in my body tightens, and for a second, I can’t breathe. When her lips close around the head, colors explode behind my eyelids, making me think I found heaven on earth. I’m so turned on, I know I won’t last long, and I don’t want this to end before we have a chance to really get going.
I grab her shoulders, hauling her up from the floor, and instantly, I miss the warmth of her mouth as her lips slide off the tip. “I need to taste you,” I tell her and lift her shirt upward.
She raises her arms as the material easily slides over her head, exposing a white lace bra and a perfect set of tits. My mouth waters. My hands itch to feel their weight in my palms, but I want to explore her with my mouth and have her begging for my cock.
I slide her bra straps down her arms as she stares at me, barely breathing. She moves her hands in front of her stomach and grimaces.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, seeing nothing but perfection.
“I have stretch marks.” She closes her eyes, and I cradle her face, wanting her to know how I feel.
“Baby, look at me,” I say, waiting for her to open her eyes. “I see nothing but a playground built for me. Don’t hide what I’m dying to explore.”
I fall to my knees and push her hands out of the way, exposing the tiny lines across her belly. The very lines that once held Lulu deep inside her. They’re not scars, but a badge of honor…a reminder she gave someone life. “They’re beautiful,” I say as I lean forward and kiss the edge of the largest line.
She tangles her fingers in the top of my hair and sighs. “You don’t hate them?”
My lips glide across her stomach, following the lines as I moan my appreciation for the softness of her skin. She’s perfection no matter what’s on her skin. “They’re like my tattoos,” I tell her, my head level with her stomach, but looking up into her blue eyes. “They’re a reminder of a life experience. They mean something. They’re not scars. They’re life.”
She doesn’t move to cover them again as I run my tongue across her skin this time, tasting the saltiness of her skin and smelling her need. Unable to wait any longer, I unbutton her pants, and she lifts up as I pull them downward along with her panties before tossing them both across the room.
She’s nervous. I can see it in her eyes. ”Say you want me,” I tell her, needing to hear the words from her lips once more.
“I want you, Lucio,” she says, clear as day.
I pull her forward, sitting her ass on the edge of the counter and giving me the perfect view of her beautiful, glistening pussy. She leans back, resting her palms on the countertop, readying herself.
Reaching up, I palm her breast, wishing I had more time, but I know what she needs and how to make her feel good. My thumb brushes against her nipple, and she pushes her chest into my touch.
My mouth waters, and I lick my lips. There’s nothing more beautiful than a naked and needy Delilah. I lean forward, placing my head between her legs, close enough that she can feel my warm breath moving across her skin.
She rocks forward, silently pleading for my mouth. I give her what she wants, dragging my tongue through her lips, capturing her wetness on the tip. “So fucking sweet,” I say, causing her to moan.
My fingers tug on her nipple as I bury my face between her legs, sucking her clit into my mouth. The salty sweetness of her explodes across my tongue and makes my cock even harder than it was before. The way she moans my name as the tip of my tongue flicks against her spurs me on.
I devour her skin, lavishing her most needy part with every bit of my mouth until her fingers curl around the edge of the counter and she grinds her cunt against my face. She’s moaning, screaming, as her body quakes in pleasure.
“Fuck!” she shouts and throws her head backward, jutting her tits out more.
I don’t let up. Don’t stop sucking until she’s limp and gasping for air.
“Jesus.” She licks her lips with her eyes still closed.
I give her pussy another kiss before making my way up her body, positioning my cock between her legs.
“Condom,” she says as her eyes fly open.
“Of course,” I tell her, fishing one out of the drawer next to us. She looks at me funny but doesn’t ask me why on God’s green earth I keep condoms in the kitchen.
I rip open the package with my teeth before cautiously pushing it over the tip of my cock, careful not to catch the latex on my piercing. She grabs my face, crashing her lips to mine, ending all conversation. When she spreads her legs and presses her ankles into my ass, I know I have permission to bury myself deep inside of her.
Her legs tighten as I slip the tip of my cock along with the piercing inside her. She moans into my mouth, and I swear my eyes almost roll backward. I take it slow, moving a little deeper with each thrust until she’s pushing me forward and grinding into me.
Then I’m buried deep inside her, and I know I’ll never be the same again.
13
Delilah
“Are you feeling better today, my dear?” Betty asks as she takes Lulu from my arms before I’m even three steps into the kitchen of her apartment.
“I am. Thank you.”
Better doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel. Waking up next to Lucio, tangled in a pile of sheets and limbs makes me feel more than better… I feel like a new woman.
“I was worried about you after you
r father stopped by.” She motions for me to sit, and I do without hesitation because I’m not crazy enough to argue with her. “Even though you handled him like a pro, I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’ve had a lifetime of practice.”
I thought I’d wake up this morning feeling awful about everything that happened, but I don’t. For the first time in a long time, I’m hopeful. There’s a new sense of freedom I’ve never felt before. I’m no longer walking on eggshells, waiting for the next drunk tirade from my father.
She sits across from me, rocking Lulu back and forth. “If you don’t mind my asking, why did you stay so long?”
I lean back in my chair, trying to figure out why I did stay as long as I did. “I’ve asked myself that very question a million times.”
“We all do what we feel is right at the time, sweetheart. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”
“I didn’t want to abandon him like my mother did to both of us. At first, I was too young to leave. And then I stayed with him through college because I was barely ever home anyway, so it didn’t matter. He still got drunk, but I couldn’t be his whipping girl if I wasn’t around.”
She nods her head but stays silent, listening to me spill my guts. The look on her face isn’t judgmental, and I’m comfortable talking to her. She’s been nothing but gracious and kind, treating me better than anyone in my family ever has. So, I keep going, figuring I could use a little motherly advice on where I go now and if I’m headed in the right direction.
“When I found out I was pregnant with Lulu, my father promised he’d change if I’d only stay with him to raise his granddaughter. He remained sober through my entire pregnancy, going to every doctor’s appointment with me after Lulu’s father took off.”
Betty gasps. “He just left?”
I nod. “I haven’t seen him since, and he’s never even tried to contact me. Dwight is no better than my father, but at least he gave me a beautiful daughter out of the situation and has left me in peace.”
“She’s a dream,” Betty says as she leans forward to kiss Lulu’s head. “This baby girl deserves all the love and kisses.”
I smile and keep talking so I don’t start crying over all the love Lulu’s missed out on already. “For a few months after she was born, my dad kept up his sobriety. But slowly, one drink turned into two, and then he’d down an entire bottle. Somehow, his temper didn’t return with the drinking like it had before. Not at first, but over the last week before he kicked me out, he became more aggressive and rarely had a sober moment.”
“Did something change?” she asks.
“Yeah.” I pause and chew on my bottom lip, remembering the job offer in California for the first time in days.
“How about some tea?” she asks before I can answer.
“I’d love some,” I tell her and stop myself from asking for whiskey instead.
I could use a drink, but I’ve never let myself use alcohol as a crutch or to relieve stress. I didn’t want to end up like my father, and I knew enough about alcoholism to know, typically, it is passed on through genetics.
She carries Lulu on one hip like she’s been doing it a lifetime, grabbing the teapot and filling it with one hand. “We don’t have to talk about it anymore,” she says as she turns the stove on, and the flame licks the bottom of the pot.
“I’m fine. I want to talk about it.”
“I never want to make you uncomfortable.”
“You have never done anything but make me feel welcome and comfortable, Betty.”
She leans against the countertop, and Lulu grabs at her pearls. “We love having you here.”
“I took Lulu out of town for a few days for a job interview on the West Coast.”
“Oh.” Her eyebrows shoot up, and I know the information is something I haven’t shared before. Betty seems to have grand plans for Lucio and me. While I like the idea, and could probably be happy here forever, I’m not sure we’ll work out in the long run.
“Anyway, after we left, he started drinking more and more. He’d call at all hours of the night, yelling and cursing me for leaving him.” I blow out a breath, still hearing the scathing words my father strung together over the phone echoing in my ears. “The day before we were scheduled to come back, he went to a meeting and promised he’d get his life back together.”
“People make grand promises when their backs are against the wall, but they never seem to remember to follow through during the small moments. Those matter the most,” she tells me.
“They do.” I nod. “When he picked us up from the airport after a long flight, I didn’t think he was drunk, or I never would’ve gotten in the car with him. But after a few blocks of him swerving, I knew he was too drunk to drive. He couldn’t even keep his promise for twenty-four hours and pick us up sober.”
“I’m sorry, dear.”
I wish my father could be half the person Betty Gallo is. Even on his best day, he couldn’t hold a candle to her love and charm.
“He didn’t just put our lives in danger that night, he cleaned out my bank accounts and cut me off completely.”
She lifts the teapot, removing it from the hot burner and placing it on a cool one as soon as it whistles. “Earl Grey?” she asks, and I nod. Using one hand, she carries two teacups with little pink flowers around the rim and sets them down on the table before grabbing the pot along with two tea bags. “Would you like cream and sugar?”
“If you’re having it, yes.” I’ve never been a tea drinker and I’m not sure what proper etiquette is when sipping tea, but I’ll follow Betty’s lead.
“So, what about the job on the West Coast?” she asks as she pours the hot water in the cups, watching me as she does.
“I was offered a position at an entertainment company. It’s entry-level, but perfect for someone like me. I can’t take it, though.”
“Why not?” She plops two cubes of sugar in my cup along with a splash of milk before doing the same to hers, but her eyes are on me and I feel the weight of her stare.
I tug on the tea bag, waiting for her to sit before I continue. Lulu’s too busy playing with Betty’s necklace to care that I’m in the same room. It’s nice to have someone else she’s comfortable with because, any other time, she doesn’t want to leave my arms. “Without the money I had in the bank, I can’t afford to make the move and earn the small salary they were going to give me to start.”
She tilts her head to the side. “Is that the only reason?”
I frown and peer down at my tea. “I don’t know, Betty.”
“What about my son?” she asks.
“He’s kind of great,” I say and can’t stop the goofy smile from spreading across my face.
She places her hand over mine. “He really likes you, Delilah. I know Lucio’s heart, and it’s the biggest of all my children. Sometimes he’s hard to read, but when he loves, he loves deep.”
“I’ve never had someone treat me the way he does,” I admit.
Before I left California, I wanted to take the job, but something had stopped me. I asked for a little time to think over their offer, and they agreed, giving me one week to make my final decision. The only reason I applied was to get as far away from my father as possible, and now that he’s out of the picture, I can’t imagine uprooting my life and moving clear across the country.
“Lucio has never fallen in love. He’s been so scared he’d be like his father that he wouldn’t open his heart, but he’s different around you.”
“You’re not the first person to say that to me.”
“Angelo?” she guesses.
“Yeah.”
“He’s the only one of my kids to have already fallen in love, but when his wife died, I think it scared everyone. My relationship with Santino already had them skeptical. But after Angelo found someone who made him happy and she passed away, no one wanted to put themselves out there.”
“Do you regret being with Santino?” I ask even though it’s none of my bus
iness.
She sighs as she sets down her teacup. “No. Even though our love wasn’t always easy, there has never been a time when I regretted being with him. How could I?” She cradles Lulu in her arms, rocking her gently. “He gave me four wonderful children.”
“Were there moments when you wanted to leave?”
“Sure. I think there’s a point in every relationship when people could walk away. Sometimes it’s easier than fixing what’s wrong and building a stronger foundation.”
“But he’s in prison, right?” I grimace as soon as the words leave my mouth. “It’s none of my business.”
“Santino is in prison for a little while longer, but I never thought about leaving him for that or the long, drawn-out trial that was splashed across every newscast and paper in the city.”
Suddenly, I put two and two together, realizing why the name Gallo sounded so familiar. The trial of Santino Gallo was one of the biggest news stories a few years ago. Many people in Chicago claimed organized crime was dead and there was no such thing as the mafia, but after Santino’s arrest, they could no longer make the same statement.
“I remember now,” I tell her, and my face heats. “I’m sorry.”
“Santino did the crime, and now he has to do the time. He knew what could happen, leading the life he did. I turned a blind eye to his business dealings, but I never let him slide when it came to his extracurricular activities.”
“Lucio mentioned that.”
“There’s so much my children don’t know. They think I was complacent with his behavior when I wasn’t. For a long time, I believed Santino was faithful. No one wants to think otherwise. But I wasn’t a fool either. I’d smell the cheap perfume on his clothes when he came home at night. I got sick of it and took matters into my own hands.” She laughs, and there’s nothing sweet about it.