Bellissimo Rilascio (Beautiful Release): The Family Series #3

by Lunsford, Leigh Ann

  Part of the reverie I’m in is his devotion to me, and the other part . . . I haven’t had sex in years, and I’m hornier than a blind lesbian in a fish market. I think he could accidently brush against my clit, and I’d come. I’m not opposed to taking his hand, shoving it down my pants, and getting this party started. I’m trying to figure out a way to play that off as an accident. “Heath, are we ever going to have sex?”

  He pauses before starting the car. “It’s kind of guaranteed. I just didn’t want to jump you the second you walked through my door.”

  “That wouldn’t be a bad thing. I don’t think I could think of anything better at the moment.” His wrist flips, and the ignition comes to life. Streets blur, pedestrians better not be in the crosswalk because I fear for their safety. “Slow down, a ticket or a vehicular homicide arrest right now would delay my orgasm, and I’d become very cranky. Worse than I am with no coffee.”

  He squeezes my leg but decreases his speed from Mach 5 to respectable . . . not legal but respectable. “We can wait . . .”

  I cut him off. “No, you may be able to wait but I can’t. So therefore WE cannot wait. I want you, I want to show you how much I want to, and I don’t want to wait for Mexico, Istanbul, or any other exotic, foreign place we may go.”

  “Istanbul?” I narrow my eyes and give him the best fuck-off stare I can. I’m telling this man I want to fuck him, attack him the minute I can, and he wants to discuss a country I mentioned.

  “Missing the point. Keep it up, and you’re going to make me not want to get laid.”

  “So eloquent.” His smile softens his words. “I was kidding. Trying to lighten the mood because my cock is hard as steel, and I’m on the verge of embarrassing myself before I get you home. I want you, Bianca. So much. I just want to make sure you’re ready.”

  “I’m ready.” His nod is all the affirmation I need, and at this point I don’t care how fast he drives, I just need him to get back to his apartment. The idiots crossing the road and slowing down my impending bliss can play Frogger for all I care. Jump on a log, fucker. I start laughing hysterically with that mental image.

  “You okay over there?”

  I can barely talk through my laughter. “I-I’m pic-pict-picturing the pe-pedes-pedestrians play-playing Fro-Frogger.” He pulls into his parking spot and goes to grab the groceries. If there wasn’t chocolate that could melt, I’d stop him from that task.

  He isn’t laughing. “Don’t you think I’m funny?”

  “I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

  “Frogger? The video game. Oh, never mind if I have to explain it to you it’s not funny. Callie would get it. She completes me.”

  “I’m thinking of joining with you, so hopefully you will be completely full.”

  “Holy fuck-a-noli, you’re just as cheesy stupid as I am.”

  “Not gonna argue with you.”

  “Someone feeling randy?”

  “The fact you just said randy like my eighty-year-old grandma, I’m gonna have to say . . . not anymore.”

  I walk in front of him, and once the door is opened, I kick my shoes off and strip out of my shirt. “Still not feeling up to it?”

  He winks. “Oh, it’s up alright.”

  “Cheese ball.”

  “Gorgeous. Beautiful. Bianca.” All playfulness gone, he pulls me to him as he drops the groceries. His hand comes up to brush across my cheek, his eyes never leaving mine. His lips slowly descend, and his kiss steals my breath. Rocks me to my core. I sigh into his mouth.

  In relief.

  In contentment.

  In ecstasy.

  In realizing there is no place else for me.

  His arms. My safety. My home. My future.

  He pulls his mouth from mine, and I immediately want it back. Pausing, waiting, not allowing his lips to touch mine, he stares at my mouth. The magnetic pull to him is too much. I move my mouth an inch, and he backs away a fraction. The rest of the room disappears; my focus is only him. His heat warms my body; his breath becomes mine, our heartbeats in sync. There’s just us in this moment, and I never believed it could be like this. It escalates my desire, and instead of instant gratification, I want it to last forever.

  He takes a step backwards, and I follow. Another and another. We’re at the threshold of the bedroom, and I have no nerves. No reservations. I step closer to him when he doesn’t retreat inside the room, and we’re close. I skim my fingers down his shirt, gripping the end of it and pulling up. He willingly lifts his arms, allowing me to strip him. I follow with his pants, his shoes discarded somewhere along the dance to this point. I’ve seen every inch of him before, but this time it’s different. We are committed. No doubts. I trace his biceps with my fingers, moving inward until I can lay my hands flat on his pecs. “I love you.” I make sure he sees the love inside of me, racing to escape.

  “Bianca.” My name comes out as a plea. For what, I’m not sure. His restraint halts, and he hauls me to him, chest-to-chest. His hands remove my pants and seeing as how I was sans underwear today . . . jackpot. He grips my ass and pulls me closer, tighter in his hold, and walks again towards the bed. I land on my back, legs spread by his hands and before I can blink, his head at my core. “I’ve missed your taste,” he murmurs between licks and plunges of his tongue. His hands roam from my inner thighs to my hips, up the sides of my torso, and cup my breasts. Firm fingers tweak my nipples, and I explode. My orgasm lasts longer than any experience I’ve ever had, and he never removes his mouth from me. His hands disappear from my breasts, and he slides his briefs off.

  I sit up to taste him, but he doesn’t allow it. Pushing me back down by my shoulders, he climbs on the bed, kneeling. “Scoot up,” he demands. I push myself up a few inches, and he bends over, capturing a nipple with his teeth. Pleasure. Pain. It’s all registering and almost too much. He rolls me to my side, lifts one leg up, and bends it to my chest while he enters me in one push. On his knees with my leg in his hand, he holds all the power, and I give it to him. One hundred percent.

  “Fuck,” he hisses. “So tight.”

  “Heath,” I moan. Finally connected as one. I know I’ve never felt this. He pushes in harder, sinking deeper, and I scream.

  He doesn’t relent, keeping a steady motion of dominant, deep, long thrusts, and I go over the edge again. He isn’t slowing his pace. “So worth the wait.” He drops my leg, and I fall to my back. His fingers lace through mine, pinning my arms to the sides. He pushes slowly, gliding in and out. His eyes hold mine captive, not that I want to look away. His lips brush mine, over and over; soft, never demanding. Every limb entwined with each other, every inch of flesh connected, and I come again. I feel the release in every part of my body. When he follows, I can’t describe the unity I feel.

  Rolling off me, he brings me to his chest, wrapped up in his arms, and our breathing slows. Our bodies cool, and our souls soar. I’ve never felt closer to myself or someone else at the same time. Not just because of the sex; although phenomenal, it was the walls I let down, the openness I embraced this relationship with. The fight to get back to the woman I was so I was able to give it all to him.

  Enduring each misstep to get to this place . . . I’d do it again. The same exact way, because without the fight, the pain, the sacrifice, we wouldn’t have realized the gift we have.

  Chapter Twenty

  Heath

  Sated.

  A euphoric feeling spreads throughout my body, and I don’t want to fight the sleep trying to claim me.

  Satisfaction.

  Touching her skin again was heaven.

  Hearing her cry my name in ecstasy was pleasure.

  Holding her in my arms, back in my life, was bliss.

  My hands mindlessly run through her hair, caress her body until I feel her breathing even out and sleep overcomes her. I hate to admit I have doubts regarding our long-term future. I didn’t want to have sex with her until those were erased, but she makes me lose control.

  I
know she says she’s here, loves me, wants me . . . chose me, but she hasn’t seen or talked to Dakota in months. I don’t know how much she’s addressed that in therapy, and last night was hard enough on her. I didn’t want to broach that subject. I can’t continue having these thoughts nagging me because she’ll see through me. After Mexico. I’ll deal with them after Mexico. I slip from the bed to go make plans for our trip. After booking the flights and resort, I run down to her car and grab her bag.

  Gently waking her up, I take a few minutes to hold her, anchor her to me. I have a surprise for her. I nudge her to the bathroom where I’ve run a bath, set a cup of coffee and her fully charged cell phone on the side; I know she’s bursting at the seams to talk to Callie. “You’re the best,” she sleepily tells me.

  I don’t answer her, so she grabs my face. “I’m serious. I know I put you through hell, but know I walked the depths of dark to come back to you. I went through my own hell to end up back in your arms.” Her words soothe the ache in my chest.

  “Enjoy. We fly to Miami tonight and Mexico tomorrow afternoon. Call your girl, we need to leave for the airport in two hours.”

  “Bossy.”

  “I’ve been called worse.”

  “By me,” she chuckles. That sound won’t ever get old.

  Uncomplicated could describe the last few days. We didn’t spend much time with Bronson and Callie. She mentioned her brother seemed ‘off’ to her, and she wanted us to establish ourselves together before adding anyone to the mix. I’m all for a solid foundation. Mexico, Playa del Carmen, is beautiful. Her golden coloring becoming olive, her skin glowing, and her body in string bikinis is more than I can take, and I’ve taken her many times. Her somber mood worries me.

  I watch her walk to the balcony of our room and look out over the beach. Her shoulders rise and fall a few times as she inhales, trying to ease the tension she’s holding in. I quietly walk behind her and snake my arms around her waist. “Why so reflective?”

  “I don’t want to leave. It’s been nice isolating ourselves here, but I’m afraid once we are back home things will change.”

  “We won’t let them.”

  “You’re in Indian Shores, and I’m in Miami. Granted, I have no job, living off my inheritance but still . . .”

  “I have no business and plenty of money.” My argument of reassurance isn’t working; her mouth is drawn tight and eyes distant. “I do have something in mind, but I need to run it by Lynsey first.”

  She claps her hands, showing some excitement, “Don’t you have to tell me first? It’s some unspoken rule the girlfriend gets first dibs on news.”

  “No pressuring Lynsey.”

  “Would I do that?”

  “Does a bear shit in the woods?”

  She shrugs. “Dunno, never seen it, so it could be a myth.”

  I shake my head at her. “I’m wanting to open another bar but add a recording studio in it. I have no clue what’d I do, but I want to help Lynsey and others like her have an affordable way to make demos and send them out.”

  “In Miami?”

  “Bianca.” I grab her hand. “Have you thought about moving home? Miami isn’t somewhere I want to be long-term.”

  “Please? I don’t want to leave my family. I love seeing Angelo grow up, having Callie near. Lynsey loves Miami.”

  “And when Dakota comes back?” I didn’t want to bring it up here.

  “What?”

  “Does part of you want to stay there for when he returns?”

  “No,” her words clear, decisive. “He is my past.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Where’s this coming from? I thought I was pretty damn clear explaining what I wanted. You. You are what I fought for. You are what I worked so fucking hard in therapy for.”

  “Not just me.” I can’t let this go.

  “You’re right.” My heart sinks at those words. “I fought for me. I fought to become whole, to be healthy, and learn to cope with bullshit instead of suppressing it. Without me there couldn’t be an us.”

  Her words are soothing, but I have lingering doubts. She drops to her knees and pulls my shorts down. One hand takes my cock and the other hand strips her bikini off. “Only you,” she murmurs, taking me deep.

  On her knees, submissive, so damn beautiful. I can watch her face, see her eyes, and devour her body with my stare. Her hand comes up and cups my balls, massaging firmly as she sucks me in the back of her throat, swallowing. Eyes firmly on mine, jaw open wide and giving me every part of herself. Her teeth graze the head, and she swallows the salty pre-cum, moaning at my taste.

  I pull out of her mouth and lift her off her knees. Turning her to face the balcony, I place her feet on the small ledge to make our heights more compatible. “Hang tight, Bianca.” I lift her feet off the ground and impale her. No preamble, no sweetness, just raw fucking. I guide her hips over me swiftly, never allowing her to get used to my fullness, giving and taking, pounding hard and unrelenting.

  I watch her hands grip the balcony as her knuckles turn white, her groans of pleasure echo off the glass surrounding us, getting lost in the sounds of the waves crashing. She pushes back as I dive into her; I feel her muscles tighten. “Give it to me, Bianca.” I feel her shatter, inner muscles gripping me, hear her cries of pleasure, and follow suit deep inside of her.

  No words are spoken as we come down from our high. When her breathing is under control, she turns to me. “Does that calm you? Don’t you understand I made a promise to myself and to you the day I came to you. It was forever. It was only us in this relationship. There is no room for anyone else because my heart is full with my love for you.”

  I pull her back against my chest, slipping out of her. I answer her with my lips, reassuring that I believe her, even though I don’t. I don’t know what it will take to make me trust her promise, to be certain of her choice. In our oasis away from him I’m secure; but now a whole new curveball has been launched, and I’ve lost before.

  I won’t give her anything else to worry about and will carry this burden on my own. She deserves that from me after all she’s given me this past week.

  Devotion.

  Love.

  Acceptance.

  In return, I’ll give her peace of mind, and eventually I’ll believe in us.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Bianca

  I hate leaving him, but I have to get home. I could move back here, but I’d be giving in to someone else’s wants, ignoring my needs, not taking my wants into consideration, and I repeat the vicious cycle. To keep moving forward and healing, I have to voice my desire. My family is in Miami, and I want my future to be there as well. I had an amazing life here, but there are too many memories; too many triggers.

  He’s postponed searching for a new space to house his newest business endeavor since we returned from our trip, and I stayed a week longer with him than I originally intended. I wanted to ease this gap between us, and I can’t figure out what it is. On the surface he’s perfect . . . he’s Heath. There’s an underlying tone, a divide I can’t grasp.

  “Are you sure you have to go back?”

  I sigh, trying to curb my impatience. “Yes. I need to go to therapy, I miss my family, and I need to consider getting a job. Even if it’s just freelance. I have you and that was a goal for me, to prove my worth to you. Now the rest of my life needs to be put in order.”

  “You never have to prove your worth to anyone, especially me. Why do you need to go to therapy?” His placating voice is sending me over the edge. I mention therapy, and he thinks the worst.

  “Heath, it’s an ongoing process. I didn’t even realize until you pointed it out I had said I needed to prove my worth. You’re right . . . I don’t have to, but the fact I keep thinking it should tell you I have a ways to go. It’s my natural reaction to prove myself, make everyone around me happy even if it’s sacrificing my own. Until Dr. Adams and I decide I don’t need routine sessions . . . I’ll continue seeing him. I’m
down to once or twice a month depending on my situations, but I’m a work in progress. I told you all this.”

  “Why are you getting frustrated with me? I’m just trying to make sure you’re okay.”

  His body is stiff, and his brows pinched together.

  “I’m frustrated because you keep throwing out ways to get me to stay, but you haven’t offered to come back with me. Even for a few days. And you need to trust that when I’m not okay I’ll tell you.”