“But you didn’t,” she tells me. “You stopped. For me. Don’t you see? When you’re with me, the darkness is gone. I’m the damaged one, Massimo. I am. I won’t shine so brightly as you say, not without you at my side.”
She’s crying now and I don’t know why, but it pains me to see because it feels like I’ve hurt her somehow.
“I’m trying so fucking hard not to put my hands on you right now,” I tell her. “I know I shouldn’t, I know this has to end, but it’s our last day together, and I want to spend it in your arms.”
“And I want to spend it in your arms as well.” She leans forward to kiss me and I forget about everything. My misgivings. Our situation. The Aubergine Caponata. There’s only me, her, and nothing else.
I return her kiss passionately, unable to control myself. I love her smell, the taste of her mouth, the feel of her breasts against my chest. Everything about her is so soft and sweet. Such a stark contrast to me: so hard, so rough.
I end our kiss and lift her in my arms.
“Where are you taking me?” she asks softly.
“You’ll see,” I reply huskily.
I carry her upstairs in my arms.
24
Angela
Ikiss Massimo all the way up the stairs. He’s so strong, he literally glides up those stairs, never missing a step, despite the fact he’s carrying me. I always feel so shielded in his arms. Like nothing in the world can touch me. It’s a beautiful feeling. Everyone should feel this with someone at least once in their life. I know this could be the last time I have this, but I try not to think about that. I want to relish the feeling while I can. Relishhim.
The smell of musk and aftershave. No cigarettes this time. The taste of his lips… salty, sweet, with a smidgen of vinegar, the latter two courtesy of the Aubergine Caponata. The press of his strong, bulging shoulders and his swollen pectoral muscles against my body. The repetitive, sensual suction produced by each hungry kiss. The passionate blue eyes staring into my soul the whole while. Normally I’d close my eyes or look away under that hungry gaze, but today I can’t—he has me mesmerized like some snake charmer from the streets of Palermo. Besides, I want to see and remember everything.
He brings me to my room and heads directly to the ensuite bathroom. He sets me down on my feet in front of the tub, then turns on the water, activating the shower head.
He begins unbuttoning his shirt and I follow his lead. We strip down, eying each other hungrily. When he lowers his underwear and jeans his cock jumps forth and I can’t help but swallow excitedly. The way it pulses with life, throbbing up and down eagerly, makes me feel so wanted. I’ve been waiting all day for this moment: finally I get to have him inside me again. Sure, having him eat me out and finger me is fun, but I want the real deal. When I look at his face, the sheer hunger I see there scares me a little, yet also excites me all the more.
When we’re both completely naked he checks the water temperature, then adjusts the faucet and steps inside. I watch as his muscles ripple beneath his skin, his movements graceful, easy, hinting at the hidden power restrained underneath. I’m reminded of a race horse. The shower water coats his smooth skin, and his tattoos glisten above his shiny muscles.
I follow him into the tub and he pulls the shower curtain shut—not to protect the floor from splashing, but rather to shut out the world. At least that’s how I interpret it. No one can disturb us in our little bubble.
I step toward him but slip. He catches me instantly. My face falls into the crook of his arm and I wrap my fist around his bulging bicep for balance. It feels like one of those kettlebells you find at the gym—strong, unyielding iron. I also never realized this before, but his biceps are as big as my thighs, and that fucking turns me on.
I use the opportunity to lick, nibble, and rub my face back and forth along that rock hard muscle. He feels and tastes so good. I’m barely noticing the shower water raining down on me.
He straightens me up and looks into my eyes. I see such desire in his gaze.
He traces his fingers first across my necklace and then my breasts. He leans forward and tenderly sucks my nipple. He rubs his finger around the areola at the same time, and I moan in ecstasy. One nipple orgasm, coming right up. Orcumming, I should say.
He wraps a thigh around mine and his cock presses into my leg near my pussy. I wrap my fingers around it. Similar to his bicep, his cock feels like unyielding steel as well, yet it’s far hotter. Like the shaft of a branding iron. I’m not afraid of it, because he’s already seared his mark into me. Yes, regardless of what happens, I’m already branded as his for life. No one will ever measure up to him.
Massimo moans when I squeeze his cock, then he grabs my wrist and yanks my hand from his throbbing member. He repositions himself so that his cock is directly between my legs, right at my entrance, and then he wraps one hand around the nape of my neck, clamping over my wet hair. Then he pulls me onto his lips and, gazing hungrily into my eyes, rams his cock into me at the same time.
I gasp. He’s so big… stretching me wide. I squeeze for a moment and he flinches in surprise. I smile lasciviously.
I moan as he begins hammering me. I match his motions with my hips, and I hear that beautiful slapping sound as our centers repeatedly slam together. It’s louder than the sound of the shower and our frantic breathing.
He wraps his fingers around my wet hair and pulls my head back roughly. Then he sucks my neck.
I can’t help but groan. “Massimo, fuck me!”
He obliges.
I reach the edge quickly, a bit too quickly. But I can’t help it, he’s so fucking hot. So fucking good at this.
“I’m cumming,” I shout.
