Simple Faith (The Pagano Brothers Book 1)

by Susan Fanetti

  “You’re gonna make me come, babe. I don’t want to yet.”

  “Do you have a condom?”

  Another deep breath to reorient himself and his striving body. “Yeah. A couple. Hold on.”

  He crouched down to the knot of his trousers and found his wallet. When he was in high school, and things had already gotten tense with his dad, he’d gone to Uncle Luca to have the real sex talk—the one about how to know if a girl wanted it, and how to get her to want it with him, and what to do when she did—and Luca had taken him out to buy a box of Trojans. Always keep a couple in your wallet, kiddo, he’d said. From now on, until you’re married, you always keep a couple handy. Never, ever go in unwrapped. And if you tell your father about this, not only will I deny it, but you and I won’t do dawn patrol together ever again.

  From that day on, Trey had kept condoms in his wallet, and he’d lost count of how many times he’d been glad he had them handy. He’d never gone in unwrapped. And he’d never told anyone about that talk.

  He got the two he had out of his wallet and went around the bed to slide onto it beside her and finally—shit, finally—have her naked body against his.

  She turned toward him at once and melted into his embrace. He found her mouth again and claimed it, that beautiful, soft mouth, and she hooked a slender leg around his and pressed herself fully to him. His already overstimulated cock wanted what she offered, and right now, but Trey wanted to go slowly, to take his time with her, to be everything she wanted and needed and more.

  He rolled, pushing her back to the bed, and turned from the kiss, meaning to taste all the rest of her. He worked his way along her jaw to suck on her ear—her ears weren’t pierced—then down her throat, flicking his tongue lightly along her pulsing artery, to her collarbones. He sucked his way to her shoulder, then kissed in and down, over that brand, kissing it again, then to her nipple, to suck it deep and feel the way her body caught fire. He caught her other nipple between his fingers, and then she was a writhing, gasping, moaning animal in his arms. Her body, bony but lithe, jumped and flexed and turned beneath him, driving his cock insane, and he didn’t know how much longer he could go without sinking into her.

  “Trey! Please!” she gasped, and he decided he’d take time later to taste the rest of her. Grabbing a condom from the corner of the bed, he rose to his knees and got it on. Her eyes were wide and wild as he settled over her again, spreading her thighs apart, keeping as much of his weight on his arm as he could. He took hold of himself and pushed against her—

  Her body jolted as if she’d been shocked, and she sat up as much as she could beneath him. “Wait! Wait! Wait!”

  Shit. He’d known she wasn’t ready. Trey closed his eyes and clenched every muscle, from his neck to his toes, and he reined himself in.

  “Okay. We’ll stop. Okay.” He started to move off of her. A cold shower was in order.

  But she grabbed him. “No! I don’t want to stop.”

  “Lara, don’t push yourself. I’ll wait until you’re ready.”

  “I’m ready now.”

  “Are you sure?” For real, he didn’t think he could do the on-again, off-again thing too many more times. He wanted her too much, he was too primed, and she’d have him in knots. “Then why are we waiting?”

  She shifted beneath him so that they were settled again in the position from which he’d meant to enter her. Even through the condom, he could feel the heat of her. “I just … I need to see it. I need to feel it.”

  That made him smile. “I mean for you to feel it, babe.”

  “No, I mean like this.” She wrapped her hand around his cock and pulled him to her.

  “Jesus Christ,” he gasped as she pulled him right to her pussy and then left her hand there when he pushed deep. Oh sweet hell, she was so tight. So incredibly—“Fuck.”

  She lay beneath him, her head up, one hand flat on her pussy so his cock slid between her thumb and finger, and the other hand clenched on his arm, and stared at the point where their bodies met, where his body moved in hers. It was a weird, semi-missionary position; he couldn’t really see her face, and he found it disconcerting to stare at the top of her head. While his body was partying to the spectacular grip of her hand and pussy, his mind was still searching.

  “Lara,” he groaned as her body started to move with his, to rock with his tempo and drive them even higher. “Lara, look at me.”

  “I need to see.”

  “See me, then. I need to see, too. Look at me.”

  She tipped her head up and showed him her angelic face. Her rainy-sky eyes, wide with more feelings than he could interpret, locked with his, and that was what he needed. And, it was soon clear, what she needed, too.

  He didn’t pick up the pace. He moved calmly, purposefully, wanting her to feel every step of the climb, wanting to feel it himself. At some point, when time had become a concept for a different place, he saw the change in her, and felt it, desire and pleasure becoming need. Her pupils flared wide open, and her hand left her pussy to grab at his hair.

  “Is that it?” he asked as he pushed in.

  “Yes,” she gasped. “Yes, there.”

  He pushed in again and sought the same place. Ah, fuck, the way she held him. “There?”

  “Yes. Don’t stop. Oh—oh!”

  Now, with her body building its frenzy, Trey picked up his pace. Still concerned about going too hard for her slight form to take, he made every thrust a bit harder, a bit faster, a bit more, finding that place she wanted, and Lara rode in with him, chasing it, forgetting that she needed to see. Her eyes rolled up, and her lids shuttered, and Trey twisted as he rocked, and caught her nipple in his mouth.

  She went off right then, going wild in his arms, her hips flailing against his, her nails raking his back and spearing his bicep. Her pussy clenched and twitched around him, a rolling, fluttering grip that drove him out of his mind, but he held on until she finished.

  As she settled, he made himself slow down again, wanting to be sure she was still with him, that her desire to have him inside her hadn’t changed after she’d come. Her eyes opened and she stared at him, a picture of surprise.

  “Is this okay?” His voice sounded odd; he’d had to force the words out of a throat that was just as clenched with denied release as the rest of his body.

  Her hands came up to cradle his face. “You shaved.”

  A laugh burst from his chest. There was no way she was just now noticing that, but she’d picked a bizarre time to remark on it. “Yeah. No beard in the summer.”

  He was still moving, still climbing his own climb, trying not to cross the point of no return and not sure it wasn’t too late.

  But her little legs came up and hooked around him. “This is good. I want you to come.”

  “Thank God.” He bent down to claim her mouth and, finally freed his body to find what it needed.

  When he came, it raked through him like a plow, dredging up months of denied need and unacknowledged longing. He buried his face in the pillow beside her head and howled.

  ~ 14 ~

  Lara woke to lassitude and disorientation. She didn’t know where she was, and the whole world seemed heavier to her. She felt heavier, and loose in all her joints, as if her body had been stretched and folded and filled with sand while she’d slept.

  Then she heard a familiar sound—the garbage truck emptying the dumpster on the lot behind her own apartment building—and reality fell into place, balls tumbling into chutes.

  She wasn’t alone.

  Opening her eyes, she saw a large, masculine hand resting on her belly. The weight of its arm on her side—that was the heavy feeling she hadn’t been able to identify. That, and the overall presence of the body in bed with her, in this room with her. The male body.

  Trey.

  She’d had sex for the first time in six years. Three and a half months after the Bondaruks had taken her and raped her. She’d slept in her own bed, her own home, for the first time since that
day. With Trey Pagano.

  How did she feel about that? What did she think?

  Picking up his hand in both of hers, she studied it. A nice hand. Strong and well formed, with smooth, well tended nails, blunt at the tips of his fingers. Long fingers, but not thin. In the new sunlight, she saw a faint spray of blond hairs where his hand met his wrist.

  His hand was proportional to his large body, which was so much bigger than hers. She could feel his body behind, above, around hers, like a shelter. He was well-proportioned everywhere. And strong. She’d felt every ounce of his strength in the way his body had moved on hers, felt the flex of his arms and legs, his back, his chest, seen the corded tendons in his neck as she’d floated down from a crashing, mind-melting orgasm. She’d seen care and desire and need flashing lights in his green eyes. She’d felt it in his mouth, all over her body.

  What did she think? She thought this man was not like other men. Or he was like few others.

  How did she feel? She felt that she loved him.

  But she’d never felt such a thing before, romantic love, and there were details and elements she hadn’t studied yet. Before she made a feeling so potent known, she had to know it for herself first. To be sure.

  Bringing his hand up, she pressed her face to his palm and kissed it. She could smell herself on him. The scent recalled the feel of his hand between her legs, and she grew wet again.

  Oh, this was such a change in her life. Momentous and terrifying. A sea change.

  His hand stirred in her hold, and behind her, Trey hummed a quiet moan and took a breath that woke his body. “Hey,” he murmured, not as confused as she was on first waking, “It’s morning.” He kissed her shoulder. “How are you?”

  Lara rolled in his arms, lying on her back. He lifted onto his elbow and hovered over her, smiling. His dark blonde hair was tousled, fringing his forehead with charming loose curls. Her own hair must have been a nest of snarls.

  “I’m good. I feel good. Thank you for staying.”

  “I told you, I didn’t want to leave. I still don’t.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I have the day off. I want to hang out, if you’re into it. Are you busy?”

  “I’m only busy when Nick has work for me.”

  His smile increased in wattage. “Then it looks like he’s given us both the day off. You want to spend it together?” He leaned down and tucked his face to her throat; his soft lips and barely-scratchy cheeks sent wispy sparks that tightened her nipples and made her core ache.

  Lara’s mind and heart felt scrambled, with no thoughts or feelings where they belonged. The sensation was a rush straight downhill into blackness. She needed to find the edges, set a boundary.

  “Trey.”

  “Hmmm?” The sound made his seeking lips vibrate on her skin.

  “Stop. Talk. I need to talk.” She pressed on his shoulder, and he rose up. A frown tried to settle on his face, but Lara made herself say what she needed, even if it meant handing him the chance to hurt her. She didn’t think he would. “You know I need things to make sense.”

  The frown failed and gave way to a grin. “I know.”

  “I need this to make sense. I need to know what it is. Because …” The next part made her stomach flip. “Because the things I’m feeling are big, and I think it’s too dangerous to go on if this doesn’t mean the same thing to both of us.”

  Still leaning over her, his eyes still fixed with hers, Trey set his hand on her belly and hooked his fingers around her side. “What I feel is big, too. We just started, and I haven’t sorted things out for myself yet, so I don’t know if I have more answer than that.”

  “I’ve never felt this before. I don’t know where it belongs, or what its limits are.”

  “I never felt this, either, Lara. That’s what I’m saying. I think maybe it does mean the same thing to us, but we haven’t figured it all out yet.”

  “You would want to be with me, like I am? I’m not ever going to be normal. My brain doesn’t work like other people’s.”

  He laughed and came closer, hovering only inches above her now. “I am used to not-normal. My family is packed to the rafters with not-normal people. Normal bores me right out of my skin. Your brain is fucking fascinating, babe. And you are beautiful and brilliant and sweet as an angel. Yeah, I want to be with you. Just like you are.”

  “You scare me,” she said without thinking. It was true, but she hadn’t meant to give voice to that thought.

  The humor faded from his eyes. “I don’t want that. I want you to feel safe with me. I want to keep you safe.”

  “You do. I do. That’s what’s scares me. If I lean into that and then someday you’re not there.”

  “Lara.” He kissed her lightly. “I’m here. Trust me.”

  “Have faith?”

  “Nah, it’s not even that. I’m right here. I’m proof. You can know.”

  If this was what love was, she understood why people said they fell into it. That was the feeling she had—of having gone over a cliff into a chasm with no floor.

  She lifted her head and kissed him. For a moment, he let her direct, let her move her lips and tongue the way she wanted. But then there was a change, and Trey’s body seemed to swell—not only his cock, which had been erect and pressing on her leg for their whole conversation, but his chest and arms and everything. His hand came up and held her head, his fingers tangled in her hair, and then he was in charge and the kiss wasn’t gentle exploration or expression of burgeoning sentiment. It was physical and visceral, and Lara wanted it. She wanted him again. Her core ached and her nipples throbbed, and she wanted the weight of him on her.

  But he wouldn’t come down and lie on her. Instead, just as she was about to coil her legs and arms around him to every extent she could, and bring herself to him, he let go of her mouth with an animal grunt and pushed his body downward, nipping and sucking her skin, leaving a wet trail that cooled in his absence. He kissed her burn scar, and sucked her nipple, which made a shower of light all through her with every pulse of his mouth, and moved to the other and sent more light dancing through her blood and bone. Still downward, he kissed over her ribs, swirled his tongue around her navel, and on, until he clasped her hips in his strong hands and buried his face between her legs.

  “Trey!” she gasped and caught handfuls of his hair.

  “I want this,” he mumbled against her thigh. “I want to make you come like this.” His head came up, and he found her eyes. “Okay?”

  She could hardly stay in her skin, the feeling was so intense and needful. But it was too much, too fast, and she was too alone, with him at the foot of the bed. She shook her head. “Too much. I don’t want to be up here by myself.”

  It was ridiculous and pathetic once it had been made into sound, but Trey simply smiled and dragged himself back up. Looming over her again, sheltering her, he reached for the nightstand and the last condom. “Then I’ll just have to make you come this way.”

  She watched him roll the condom on. He settled between her legs again, but rather than lean down and push into her, he scooped his arms around her and lifted her off the bed. The action was gentle and steady; though she hadn’t been expecting it, she wasn’t startled. He knelt, resting back on his feet, and sat her over his thighs.

  Lara had wanted to feel his weight, to be surrounded by his size, but now, with his arms all the way around her, his hands on her ass and in her hair, she could move the way she wanted, too. She rose up, and he reached around from the back, between her legs, and held himself steady so she could sit back down and feel him slide into her.

  Deep, oh deep. Big and thick, he filled her full, found her limit, made it his.

  “Ah God, Lara. Move,” he moaned.

  She moved. Setting her forehead on his, her eyes open and diving deeply into his, Lara rocked and swayed and twisted her hips, feeling all of him inside her. This position excited her clit, too, rubbed it against the base of his shaft, where it was r
ough with hair. All her insecurities and anxieties of the night before, of her first time in six years, her first time since being grabbed from the sidewalk, were gone. This wasn’t her first time since. This was only good, with no pain to shoulder away, no memories to silence.

  This was only her and Trey, who looked at her with such sincere desire and care, who felt as big for her as she felt for him, and they were going to learn what that meant together.

  He was younger, but more experienced. She was older, but more broken. Maybe they met in the middle somewhere.

  She was coming so much faster this time. It bubbled up in her belly, and boiled through her. When her hips started to rock harder, all on their own, Trey’s arms tightened around her, and he groaned loudly, but his eyes didn’t leave hers.

  “Fuck, yeah,” he breathed. “Go, Lara. Fuck, it’s good.”

  It was. So good. When she came, the force of it shot through her and yanked her body backward. She arched over his arms, and he followed, slamming his body over hers, dropping them to the mattress, where he pounded into her and made her come again as he finally let go with a shout.

  And then, at last, his body dropped to hers and she felt his full weight. She looped her arms and legs around him and held on.

  When she was sixteen, and Todd had wanted her, she’d been curious and had wanted to be normal. He’d treated her like a normal girl, and then she’d graduated, and they never saw each other again, and that was fine. When she was twenty-seven and tried an online dating site Dr. Rosen had recommended, she’d been restless. Online dating was terrible, for the most part, but she’d met Kabir. He’d had his quirks, too; he’d had Asperger’s and had still been a virgin at twenty-nine. They’d enjoyed a few months of sex without really getting to know each other or wanting to. And then they’d simply stopped. They never saw each other again, and it was fine.