by Penelope Sky
I should keep up my guard and let him walk away, but I felt my body soften with regret as I watched him go. “Bosco.”
He stopped in front of the door but didn’t turn around. “Yes?”
My heels clacked against the floor as I approached him from behind. I stopped when my face was nearly pressed against his shoulder blades.
He turned around then, trying to fight the smile that was coming over his mouth. “I knew you weren’t gonna let me walk out of here.” While keeping his eyes on me, he locked the front door then dug his hand into my hair. He pressed his soft lips against mine and kissed me in front of the window, fisting my hair like it was reins and I was his horse. His other arm wrapped around my waist, and he pulled me into him, keeping me warm with his hot and hard body.
The second our mouths touched, I was lost to the passion and chemistry our bodies created. My hands moved to his shoulders, my favorite feature of his physique, and I sucked his bottom lip into my mouth. I didn’t want to feel him slip from my fingertips, not when this felt so good.
He ended the embrace first, having the strength I lacked. That soft smile was on his lips, like he’d just won some kind of game. “I knew you didn’t hate me.” He kissed the corner of my mouth. “Not when you kiss me like that.”
I threw an extra log on the fire because the flames were starting to die down. It was freezing that night, so cold that my furnace couldn’t keep up with the constant cold. The wind had a stinging bite to it, and the second I was home, I knew I wasn’t going out again, not until the morning when I had to go to work.
I sat in the armchair in my living room and let the heat from the fire thaw out my toes. I wore thick wool socks, but that wasn’t enough for these freezing temperatures. It was one of the coldest winters Florence had ever had, and some people thought it would snow this season, even though it hardly ever snowed here.
My phone lit up with a text message from a number I didn’t recognize. But the message itself told me exactly who it was. Can I come in?
The hair on the back of my neck immediately stood on end. Just when I thought I was alone with the silence that wrapped around me, I realized I was wrong. Not only was he on my doorstep, but he somehow knew I was home. I’m surprised you even asked.
I don’t have to ask. The sound of the opening door reached my ears a second later. The knob was locked, along with the security bar at the top. But he managed to get through it without any issue.
I was in my sweatpants, a baggy sweater, and thick old-lady socks, but I didn’t have any time to prepare for the beautiful man entering my apartment. I shut the book I was reading and set it on the table beside me, next to the hot mug of tea I’d been sipping
His footsteps sounded in the kitchen, his heavy weight audible in every single step. He turned the corner, his eyes moving to me like he knew exactly where I was before he stepped inside the apartment.
I rose to my feet and held myself with the same dignity I always possessed. I didn’t care that I was dressed in baggy clothes with no makeup. He only gave me five seconds of warning before he barged into my apartment like he had every right to do whatever he wanted. I tucked my hair behind my ear then crossed my arms over my chest, meeting his beautiful gaze with the same confidence he showed. “I hope you didn’t break my locks.”
“No.” His eyes roamed over my body like I was in lingerie rather than baggy clothes. He seemed to want me the same way, whether I wore makeup or not. The tension rose between us, and it felt like he couldn’t wait to get his hands on me. “But if you really want to be safe, you need an upgrade.”
“Any recommendations?”
“Yes.” He moved closer to me and slipped his hand under the fall of my hair. “Me.” He bent his neck down and kissed me, his anxious lips taking mine like they were his property. He sucked my bottom lip aggressively before he gave me purposeful kisses, embracing me tenderly, then deeply a moment later. His kisses were never predictable, packed with passion that sucked me deep into him. His hand snaked around my hair, and he got a good grip of it, like there was any possibility I would try to run away.
No, I was stuck.
With his back to the fire, he continued to kiss me, his long-sleeved shirt covering the tanned skin of his arms and chest. The cool metal of his watch grazed my skin as he kissed me, but the longer we touched, the warmer it started to feel.
His arm circled around the deep curve in my back, and he pulled me hard against him, making sure I could feel the outline of his rigid cock through his jeans. My baggy sweater and loose pants didn’t quench his fire at all. He moved his hand underneath my sweater and touched the bare skin of my back, clutching me anxiously.
A man had never touched me this way, gripped me so hard that his arms started to shake. His kisses proved that he’d been thinking about me all day, waiting for the kiss we were sharing at that very moment. He probably kissed every woman like this, made every woman scream in pleasure while he was buried between her legs, and every time he left, they were heartbroken. But it was easy to believe that I was the only one he devoured this way, that I was somehow special.
The fantasy wasn’t real, but it was fun to believe in.
He broke our kiss for a heartbeat just to remove his shirt. He dropped it on the ground and then smothered me with his hands once more, his ripped body as strong as ever. His fingers gently touched my neck, my hair, and my petite shoulders. He felt me everywhere, kissing me with increasing vigor.
My hands started at his shoulders, feeling the prominent grooves that separated the muscles between his shoulders and arms. The dips were significant because the muscle was so profound. My hands slid down his arms, hitting the enormous bump of his biceps, and kept going as I felt the individual cords along his forearms. Chiseled and defined, he was a living sculpture the Greek gods created themselves.
My hands moved to his chest next, feeling the searing warmth that was far hotter than the fire that burned just feet away. I felt his hard pecs, large slabs of muscle that felt like chunks of concrete. My fingers slipped down and felt his chiseled eight-pack, the lines of muscle on the beautiful tanned skin.
He kept kissing me while I explored him, like he knew his body was a form of foreplay.
He was so damn hot.
I’d been with some good-looking men, but none of them compared to this man. Perfect in every way, from the stubble across his jawline to his chiseled physique, Bosco was everything a woman wanted in a man. The only hint of light in his dark exterior was his exceptionally blue eyes. They were the color of a summer sky on a clear day—beautiful blue.
He gave me his tongue just before he pulled my sweater over my head.
I wasn’t wearing anything underneath, not even a bra.
He stopped to look at me, his eyes enjoying the sight of my tits without shame. His hand was still deep in my hair, and a quiet moan escaped his lips. “Jesus.” He dropped to his knees in front of me, his body hitting the rug that covered the hardwood floor. He gripped my hips and kissed my belly, his tongue swiping over the piercing I had in my navel. He kissed both of my hips and then made his way up my sternum, taking his time as he tasted me. His hands yanked down my sweatpants and revealed my long legs and my black thong. My underwear was the only remotely sexy thing I wore in my ensemble.
He kissed my thighs next before he moved his mouth right between my legs. The fabric separated his lips from my clit, but the pressure was still good enough to make my hips buck slightly.
The first time we’d slept together, he didn’t hesitate before he pressed his face between my legs. He devoured me like he was in a buffet line, sucking my clit and diving his tongue deep inside me. A man didn’t usually do that until we’d been seeing each other for a while, but Bosco went for it right away.
It was so good. Just as good as the sex.
My fingers dug into his hair as I felt him kiss me through my panties. I’d been ready for him since the first minute of our kiss. Now I couldn’t stop picturing him on top of me, thrusting i
nto me, with those powerful muscles flexing and shifting. His huge dick was so good, stretched me in a way a man never had before. I panted just thinking about it, fantasizing about the man who was enjoying me that very moment.
He rose to his feet again, but this time, he lifted me into the air, putting my tits perfectly in line with his mouth. He sucked my left nipple into his mouth then gave me a nibble with his teeth. He did the same to the other, lavishing my tits with heated kisses. He was in love with my rack the way I was in love with his shoulders. Most men were particularly drawn to my tits because of their size and perkiness, and Bosco had the same reaction. He licked the valley between my tits then kissed them again, his cock throbbing against my clit.
He held me with one arm as he unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down along with his boxers. He carried me to the couch and lay back, cradling me against him and keeping my pussy right against his dick. With my tits in his face, he kissed them again as he ground against me. “Fuck, I love your tits.” He gave a gentle bite above my left nipple, breathing hard with arousal.
My pussy ground against his cock, and I felt his enormous thickness underneath me. He was the biggest man I’d ever had, possessing a girth that impressed me. People say size doesn’t matter, but after sleeping with him, I knew that was bogus. He made me feel full the entire time, and he made me so wet that our bodies moved together easily. “I love your cock.”
He lifted his gaze to meet mine, that dark expression becoming sexier by the minute. His jaw was clenched tightly, and his fingers dug into my hips so deeply he almost hurt me.
I lifted my body up to pull down my thong, but it only got so far.
“Here.” He gripped the cotton with both hands and ripped the strap right off, the veins on his hand thickening with the exertion. He pushed the material away until it rested on his knee, and he yanked me down again, pressing me right against his cock. “Fuck…” He slowly ground against me, feeling my soaked pussy. My arousal smeared all over his length, coating him from below his tip to his base.
Instead of pulling on a condom, he kept grinding against me, tugging on my hips so I moved forward and backward. He stared at my tits for a while before he looked me in the eye, the sexual desire raging like a forest fire.
I planted my hands against his chest and continued to grind against him, rolling my hips slowly and pressing hard against him. His thickness was so hard that it felt perfect against my clit, the right pressure to drive me wild. I didn’t even need him inside me to feel the climax start.
Bosco moved under me, grinding against me with equal desperation. Instead of kissing, we kept our eyes locked on one another, enjoying each other on an intimate level I’d never shared with another lover.
He gripped both of my tits with his large hands. “Fuck, you’re so damn wet.”
“For you.” I didn’t get this wet for just anybody. I’d never been this wet in my life, actually.
His eyes darkened like I’d just hit an invisible trigger. His fingers dug into me a little harder, his hips pushing into me with more pressure. “No condom.” He didn’t phrase it as a question, but he waited for my permission.
I was on birth control, but that was to regulate my cramps as well as an extra precaution. My family would be so disappointed in me if I ever got knocked up without being in a serious relationship. “I never let a man fuck me without a condom. You aren’t any different, Bosco.”
Instead of pissing him off, that seemed to turn him on even more. “Jesus, you’re so sexy.” He leaned forward and kissed my tits again, grinding me more firmly against his length.
I tilted my head back and pressed my body harder into him, feeling the sweat start to drip down my back. There was so much wetness between us that we slid back and forth without friction.
My clit dragged down his wet length, and my body tightened as the pleasure radiated out from my body. I was surprised by an unexpected crescendo, a climax that made me buck and grind into him harder while he sucked my tits until they were raw. “Bosco…” I didn’t care if it inflated his ego like a balloon. He made me come so easily, and he always made me come so hard. He deserved to hear his name on my lips, listen to the way he pleased me.
He sucked my nipple hard, giving it an aggressive bite as I rode the high down to the bottom. “Fuck, you just got wetter.” He licked the valley between my tits and then leaned back against the couch, his breathing deep and ragged. He reached into the front pocket of his jeans that were still around his knees and fished out a foil packet. He ripped it open and then pulled his cock toward his stomach, his large fingers wrapped around his thick length.
I watched him roll the condom onto his long length, pinching the tip so he had plenty of room to place his load. He kept his eyes on me as he did, strategically getting the rubber in place by feel. When he was ready to go, he grabbed my hips and directed me down his length, his cock pushing through my arousal. He kept guiding me until I contained every inch of his length, his balls right under my ass.
My nails dug into his chest when I felt him, and after the intense climax I’d just had, I was surprised I wanted another. His thickness immediately recharged my batteries, refreshed my body so I could come all over his dick once more. “Make me come again.” I didn’t apologize for my selfishness. The reason we were doing this was because we were both selfish. We just wanted to have good sex, to screw without meaning, not to have to give any explanations.
He thrust up into me, hitting me deep and hard with his massive dick. “Yes, Beautiful.”
After I cleaned up in the bathroom, I pulled on a new thong and then walked into the living room, expecting Bosco to be gone because our fun was over. He’d made me come again, made me scream in his face because the climax was good, and then I’d watched him explode, watched his beautiful jawline become even tighter as he clenched his teeth.
Just watching him come turned me on all over again.
When I returned to the living room, he was on the couch in his boxers, his muscular thighs spread apart as he stared at the low burning fire. His broad shoulders dipped into the couch, and he rested his fingers along his jaw, feeling the stubble under his fingertips.
I’d expected him to be gone by now. “Want some water?”
“I’ll take scotch, if you have it.”
“Actually, I do.” Now that the fun was over, I wanted him to leave my apartment so I could go to sleep, but I didn’t want to be rude. He knew I didn’t want him sleeping over, so he wouldn’t try. I went into the kitchen and poured two glasses before I joined him on the couch.
The corner of his mouth rose in a smile. “I like a woman who has scotch on hand.”
“My father drinks a lot of it. I prefer wine, but sometimes scotch hits the spot.” I took a big drink before I set the glass on the coffee table. When I looked at the fire, I noticed the flames were burning brighter because he’d tossed another log onto the pile.
He drank his entire glass in one gulp before he set it on the table. He leaned back and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me gently into his side. His eyes glanced down to my tits. “You should dress like this all the time.”
“I thought you would be gone when I walked into the living room.”
“As long as you’re showing off those tits, I’m not going anywhere.” His hand moved into my hair and pulled it off my shoulder, revealing more of the side of my face. For a harsh man, he could be surprisingly gentle.
I grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped it around myself, keeping warm in the cold apartment.
He didn’t try to yank it off. “You have a nice place.”
I was sure he lived in a mansion, but it was nice of him to say anyway. “Thanks.”
He kept running his fingers through my hair as he turned his gaze toward the fire. He watched the flames dance around, the gentle cracking and random pops filling the silence of my apartment. The curtains were closed on all the windows, but I knew they were frosted from the cold.
/> I’d offered him a drink and a bit of chitchat, so now I didn’t feel rude kicking him out. “I have to be up early tomorrow…”
He stared at the fire like he didn’t hear a word I said. “You haven’t asked me a single question about myself.” After a long pause, he turned back to me, the orange flames reflecting in his blue eyes. “Not even my last name.”
“Is your last name relevant?” I countered. “When we’re screwing, I think your first name is sufficient.”
He gave that lopsided grin, but it didn’t last long. “My point still stands.”
“I haven’t asked anything because I don’t want to know anything. Pretty simple.”
“Bones didn’t tell you everything about me?”
“No. He just said you control all the money…something like that. He said you aren’t a trafficker, and that’s all I really care about. The rest of your story doesn’t matter because of the context of our relationship.”
He watched the fire again.
“We’re just screwing, so I don’t need to know anything about you.”
“You aren’t even a little bit curious?” he said quietly.
“No.” I didn’t care about his criminal activities. I didn’t care about his hobbies. I didn’t care about anything other than his beautiful exterior.
“Someone hurt you, sweetheart?”
“No.” I untangled myself from his arm and rose to my feet, keeping the blanket draped around me. “I would never let a man hurt me. This is just a physical relationship. I don’t care where you sleep at night or what you do during the day. Call me heartless. Call me cold. I don’t care. You’re a criminal man who does illegal things, someone I would never introduce to my family. I would never consider keeping you around as anything more than a lover. It’s pretty easy not to care about someone you know you’ll never care about.” I stared him down, seeing his side profile as he looked at the fire.
He slowly turned my way, his eyes empty and his jaw tight. “I’ve never met a woman like you.” He rose to his feet and towered over me. He looked down into my face, his head slightly tilted to the side. Back and forth, his eyes shifted. “I’ve never had a woman use me this way. I’ve never had a woman be so pragmatic…so smart. You’re right, I’m not good enough for you. I’m not a good man. I kill men every day…rule this city without a crown. I admire your sensibility in keeping your distance. A lot of women tell me the same thing, that just fucking is enough…but it never is. You’re the first woman who’s ever said it and actually meant it.”