My sweet, loving and very dead, Nonna.
May she rest in peace.
“We could skip dinner,” Antonia says as I pop a piece of chicken into my mouth.
As tempting as that is, I shake my head. I’m not a horny teenager who can’t control himself. I’m a fucking man and I don’t want to be another name on the list of douchebags she’s dated. For some odd reason, I want her to place me in a category of my own.
Meeting her gaze, I say, “I’m going to school you on something. If a man can’t get his dick under control and sit through a meal with a beautiful woman, he’s going to be selfish in the bedroom. It’s all about patience.”
“Let me guess, you’re patient.”
“In not so many words you just gave me the green light to fuck you and we’re still sitting at the table. What do you think?”
“I think you better live up to the expectations you’re making me have.”
I laugh, cutting another piece of chicken.
“I’ll try my best,” I retort, winking at her.
* * *
Determined to make it through the meal, I shifted our conversation. Instead of talking about her lips and how perfect they would look wrapped around my cock or how badly I wanted to bury my face between her tits, we took the time to get to know one another better. We had been doing a lot of that during the week over the phone, but she’s always the one asking the questions. The girl could write a book on me and all I know about her are half-truths.
I got myself another beer, poured her another glass of wine, and started with the small stuff. One question bled into four and I learned once Antonia loosened up, she liked to talk.
She told me a little about her mom, and how they didn’t get along, but didn’t elaborate on why. Antonia liked to talk, but she was very elusive with information. She gave you bits and pieces of a story and watched you intently as she spoke. It was almost as if she was waiting for a reaction, for someone to judge her for whatever it was she was sharing. If you smiled at her, she would continue revealing another fact, but if you showed the slightest bit of concern or asked for more information, she quickly changed the subject. She was a tricky one to figure out, and I was learning there were many layers to Antonia DeLuca, layers she had yet to discover herself. Layers she buried. I wanted to peel back every single one and I would with time because with time came trust.
The conversation tapered off after a while and we cleared the table. Rolling up my sleeves, I got to work on the dishes. Antonia insisted on helping despite my best efforts and hoisted herself onto the counter next to the sink. We had a nice system. I washed, she dried, and we continued talking, taking turns on who asked questions.
“That’s the last one,” I say, turning off the tap.
Leaning my hip against the sink, I cross my arms and study her as she finishes drying the last plate.
“You’re staring, Pirelli,” she points out, gently setting the dry dish on top of the others.
“You’re only noticing now? I’ve been staring at you all night.”
Kicking off the cabinet, I make my way toward her. She folds the dishtowel and sets it on the counter next to her as my hands move to her knees, gently coaxing them apart. I step between them and lift my hands to cup her cheeks. She lifts her chin, and her eyes find mine. There’s a glint of mischief there, and a plea too.
“I got you something,” I tell her.
Her eyes light up at that and I decide watching her react to me might be my new favorite pastime.
“Is it another bouquet of melon?”
Laughing, I lean forward and kiss the side of her mouth. My hands fall from her face and take purchase on her thighs, giving them a squeeze as my lips trail toward her jaw.
I should stop.
Put on a movie.
Maybe some music.
Take her for a fucking walk.
Something.
“Mmm…” she moans, tightening her legs around me. Her arms snake around me, and she curls her fingers into my shirt. If I don’t pull back now, this is going to escalate quicker than I planned. My teeth nip at the underside of her jaw for another second before I peel my mouth away and her eyes flutter open instantly.
“Why’d you stop?”
I reach over her thigh and pull open the drawer next to her, taking out a small paper bag. She eyes it curiously as I hand it to her.
“Open it,” I urge.
She takes the bag and I drop my hands to her thighs. I watch as she peeks into the bag. A laugh rolls from her lips as she lifts her eyes back to mine.
“You bought me a lightbulb?”
“Hey, that’s not just any old lightbulb, it’s a replacement bulb for the taillight on your bike. When I take you home, I’ll swap it out for you. You don’t need any pain in the ass cops pulling you over and giving you a ticket for a simple fix.”
“I thought we decided I was spending the night?”
“Yeah, but I figured you’d want me to drive you home before work.”
“I brought clothes and a toothbrush. If it’s not too much trouble, you can just drop me off at the office.”
I forgot about that and suddenly it makes sense why she was so adamant about me picking her up from work. She didn’t want me anywhere near her house. I decide not to make a big deal of it.
Trust.
She just needs to be able to trust you.
Give her time.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I give her a nod.
“Right, sure, just make sure you change it out. Wouldn’t want another cop pulling you over.”
She brings her hand to the front of my tee and pulls me closer.
“Thank you,” she whispers before closing her mouth over mine.
Her mouth opens invitingly, and I slip my tongue inside, tasting the wine on hers. My mind goes blank and I get drunk on the taste of her. With each flick of my tongue, she grows impatient, and soon her legs are locked around my back and I find myself carrying her away from the kitchen.
In my bedroom, I deposit her on the foot of my bed and tear my mouth away from hers. I drop to my knees between her legs and lift one leg, finding the zipper of her boot. Dragging it down, I pull the leather from her calf and chuck the boot over my head. She giggles softly and runs her fingers through my hair, pulling me back to her lips.
I forget about the second boot and raise my hands, fisting her hair between my fingers as I pry her lips apart with my tongue. The scent of her perfume fills my nostrils and a daunting thought crosses my mind. This room will never be the same. The scent of her will be on my sheets and I’m not even bothered by it.
Her hands slip under my shirt and travel up my chest.
“Take it off,” she hisses against my lips.
I break the kiss to pull my shirt over my head and her eyes instantly drop, taking me in from the waistband of my jeans all the way up. Muttering something in Italian, she lunges for me, winding her arms around my neck. Our lips collide again in a frantic rush. Her nails dig into the flesh at the back of my neck and I bend my head to suck on hers.
“Yes,” she moans. “I love that.”
I tease her with my mouth, leaving my mark on her olive skin and bring my hand to her breast, squeezing her through the fabric of her t-shirt. I can feel her pert nipple and I roll my thumb over it as my teeth graze her collarbone.
Her breath hitches as I pull away.
“No, don’t stop,” she begs.
“You’re wearing entirely too many clothes.”
“Let’s fix that,” she pants, lifting the hem of her t-shirt. My mouth waters and my dick grows with every inch of skin she exposes. Her black lace bra comes in to view and I’m rendered speechless. She tosses the shirt to the side and reaches behind her to unclasp her bra. The cups loosen and she brings her arms back around, slowly lowering one strap from her shoulder, then the other.
“Fuck,” I rasp the second the bra falls to her lap.
Pulling her lower lip between her teeth, she uncrosses her arms a
nd drops them to her side, revealing the most perfect pair of tits I’ve ever seen. I swallow hard as I drink her in, those pert nipples calling for my mouth.
Tearing my eyes away from them, I make work of her other boot. I lift both her legs and wind them around my waist. I take one breast in my hand, rolling my thumb over her nipple.
“You’re fucking perfect,” I tell her, giving her other tit a firm squeeze. “So goddamn perfect.”
She moans in response, and I bend my head, opening my mouth around her nipple. Sucking it, I use my tongue and teeth to taunt her. She arches against me, those leather pants sticking to my slick skin as I flick my tongue over her nipple. She cries out as I move to the other one, inflicting the same sweet torture on it. Between the scruff on my face and my teeth, her tits are red by the time I finally come up for air.
I take her mouth again, kissing her hard as I lower her back onto the mattress. Detangling her legs from my waist, I spread them apart. Peeling the leather from her legs is going to be a job in itself, but I’m up for the challenge and what a fucking beautiful challenge it is.
Standing up, I take a step forward. My knees touch the end of the mattress as I lean over her and slip my fingers under the elastic band of her pants.
“Lift your hips,” I order.
Fisting my comforter, she arches her body. Her ass lifts off the mattress as I start to peel the leather away, exposing the skimpy scrap of lace covering the sweetest part of her.
“Christ,” I rasp, forcing myself to focus on the task at hand. Once I’ve got the pants off, I push her legs further apart and bring two fingers to her lace covered pussy.
“You’re soaking wet,” I say, sliding my fingers up and down her slit, her arousal coating them. Instead of licking them clean like I want to, I lift my eyes to hers.
“How attached to these panties are you?”
“Why?” she pants.
“I’m about to destroy them.”
I don’t give her a chance to respond and slip my fingers under the lace, tearing them to the side with a forceful tug. The lace rips as I drop back to my knees and smash my mouth against her bare pussy. I lick her slowly, flicking my tongue against her clit.
“Fuck yes,” she cries as I lift her legs over my shoulders. Gripping her ass cheeks, I pull her toward my mouth. In and out, I slide my tongue deeper and deeper until her hips buck and she’s riding my tongue, chasing a high she’s desperate to feel.
Before she peaks, I pull away and right her panties. Ripped and all, I use the lace as friction and bring my fingers back to her clit, rubbing it in slow motions.
“You’re killing me, Pirelli,” she whimpers. “Give me your mouth again, I was almost there.”
“Not yet.”
“But…”
“Spread your legs wider,” I growl, removing my fingers. I finally give in and bring them to my mouth, sucking them clean. The taste of her explodes on my tongue. If I could bury myself between her legs and feast on her every day for the rest of my life, I’d die a happy man.
“Marco.”
I shake my head, releasing my fingers with a pop. My hand falls to the waistband of my jeans as my eyes lock with hers.
I can’t fucking take it anymore.
“Wider, Antonia,” I order, popping the button on my jeans. Dragging the denim down my legs, I kick them aside and grab my cock through my boxers, watching as her heels dig into my mattress as she widens her stance. Her hand moves between her legs, and she pushes the torn lace aside. Keeping her eyes pinned to mine, she inserts two fingers into her pussy.
“If you’re not going to…”
“Take your fingers out,” I growl.
“But.”
“Take your fucking fingers out of your pussy, Antonia.”
She does, and my hand closes around her wrist. Dragging her fingers to my mouth, I suck on them. Her breath hitches as I pull them from my mouth and press them to hers.
“Open for me, dollface.” Without hesitating, her lips part and I shove my fingers into her mouth. “Thatta girl,” I whisper, watching as her cheeks hollow out and she sucks on them.
She’s going to look so good with my cock in her mouth.
So fucking good.
Patience, man.
It will kill you.
Fucking wreck you.
Her tongue swirls around my fingers as I slowly draw them out of her mouth.
“God, you’re a sight,” I rasp.
A beautiful fucking sight.
Her fingers move to my boxers and close around my cock.
“Please,” she begs. “I can’t wait any longer.”
“Tell me what you want.”
“Isn’t it obvious?” she questions, cupping my balls through the black fabric.
“I’m not done with you,” I argue, taking her nipple between my teeth.
“You proved your point.”
“Did I?” I say against her breast.
“Yes,” she cries, lowering my boxers until my cock springs free. Her fingers close around my shaft, and my mouth stills around her nipple. Closing my eyes, I let myself revel in her touch for a moment before I cover her hand with mine, guiding it up and down my shaft before pushing her away.
“Marco.”
“Flip over,” I demand, shucking the boxers down my legs. Like my jeans, I kick them off. Her brows furrow as she stares back at me. “On all fours, Antonia. Now.”
Her eyes light with excitement and I watch as she rolls over, giving me a spectacular view of her ass. I jerk my cock as she moves into position, her knees and palms working to lift her body off the mattress.
Pulling my hand away from my shaft, I climb on the bed behind her. I slide my hands between her legs and push them apart. Fitting my head there, I drop my back to the mattress. My hands curl around her thighs. She looks down at me. Eyes locked, I swipe my tongue over the lace.
“You want to come?” I ask.
She nods and I move her panties aside once more.
“Then fuck my face until you come, beautiful.”
Chapter Fifteen
Antonia
Marco doesn’t have to say it twice. I lower myself onto his waiting mouth, wrap my fingers tightly around the wrought iron bars of his headboard, and rock slowly against his tongue. Being on top allows me to chase my orgasm without interruption. He can’t tease me anymore and he can’t bring me to the tip of the crest to steal my pleasure. I’m the one in control and I love it.
The scruff of his five o’clock shadow.
His playful nips.
The languid strokes of his tongue and pressure against my clit.
It’s everything.
The faster I ride him, the more frantic I become. Every sensitive nerve comes alive, and it feels like fireworks are going off inside of my body. I try to slow down, to savor the sensation, but I can’t. I’m at the mercy of my pleasure.
Marco must sense this because, in one sudden move, his hands slide from the back of my thighs up to my hips. He pulls me down with such force, my knees give out and I find myself actually sitting on his face. My body surrenders to his mouth and I come fast and hard, pleasure ripping through my body with a violent force.
When it seems impossible for me to take another stroke of his tongue, he lifts me off his mouth and rolls me onto my back. My eyes fight for focus as my gaze finds his handsome face. Licking his lips devilishly, he reaches for a condom and tears the foil packet open with his teeth.
Trying to catch my breath, I watch as he rolls it on his thick shaft. Sheathed, he fists his cock for a second before taking my arms and pinning them over my head.
My hair, damp from sweat and a matted mess, sticks to my face. I go to tuck it behind my ears so I can get a better look at him when he enters me, but his hold on my hands tighten.
“Keep your hands above your head and your body still,” he demands roughly.
My lips part in protest, but he shakes his head and gives my wrists another squeeze. Bringing one hand to my f
ace, he gently brushes the hair away from my eyes. His other hand joins in the task and I struggle to keep my arms over my head as requested. A whimper escapes the back of my throat as he combs his fingers through my curls, giving them a hard pull. Growling, he fans my curls over the pillow and meets my gaze.
“Better,” he murmurs before lowering his head and taking my mouth. I’m not sure where he gets his patience or his stamina from. Until tonight a part of me wondered if he was all smoke and mirrors, but the man has every right to be as cocky as he is when it comes to sex. If this is what it’s like being fucked by a gentleman, well, sign me up for seconds... and thirds.
“You’re so fucking beautiful when you come,” he says against my mouth.
He sucks my lower lip between his teeth before releasing it and peppering kisses down the smooth column of my neck. It becomes increasingly harder to keep my hands off him, especially when he grabs my hips and gets on his knees between my legs. Pulling me closer, he positions the head of his cock at my entrance. Closing my eyes, I bite the inside of my cheek and wait to feel him inside of me.
“Antonia, give me your eyes,” he orders.
Looking at him as he fills me makes me feel very vulnerable. My eyes are like a piece of glass, a window to every emotion. I can’t hide behind the tough girl façade. Every feeling and every thought are all on display for him. It’s very intimate and equally terrifying.
“Thatta’ girl,” he praises, dipping his head to touch his forehead to mine. He slides into me, inch by inch, stretching me until I’m fully impaled. “God, you feel amazing,” he murmurs as he begins to move.
In and out.
Slow and steady.
The sound of his skin slapping against mine fills my ears and the scent of sex assaults my senses. I realize this is like nothing I have ever experienced before and when he picks up his pace, I make a solemn vow to never settle for less.
Unable to hold my orgasm at bay any longer, I clench around him, coming just as fiercely as I did the first time. With his eyes pinned to mine, he continues to pound into me, chasing his own orgasm. I watch in fascination as his face distorts with pleasure and when he groans my name, I swear it is the sweetest sound I have ever heard.
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