He slides his tongue into my mouth with ease and I exchange it for mine, taking my hands to either side of his head and running my left hand through his hair like he’s done so many times. His hand makes the journey from my chin down my neck, my shoulders, my side, finally landing on a tender spot in the dip between my ribs and my hips. The thin satin of my pajamas is not too thick a barrier for me to let out the softest of moans.
As if the sound startled him, he pulls away, looking back to the house. “We shouldn’t do this here,” he says, and my heart falls.
“Right.” I pull my robe across my chest. It’s not an ideal setting what with Sutton roaming the halls, Raffaello looming, the aforementioned Natalia, and the yet-to-be-delivered fresh towels. Although based onhow his eyes are fixed on my chest and the modicum of cleavage the robe allows for has me second-guessing how strong his resistance actually is.
His lips curl into a devilish grin. “I should show you back to your room, don’t you think? Wouldn’t want you to get lost in this big house.”
My heartbeat quickens. “Yes, it’s far. You should definitely accompany me. For safety.”
Benito nods slowly. “In case Marco Polo’s ghost shows up.”
I smile. “Exactly.”
The walk back to my room takes forever as we tiptoe through the house. It’s dead quiet, and once we get to my door, I open it slowly, praying the creaking sound won’t wake up Giac across the hall. Benito follows me without question, and I quickly close us in.
He doesn’t wait another second before pulling me into his embrace, his lips back on mine like he’s drowning and needs them for air. I pull away.
“What’s wrong?” He bites the corner of his lip and smiles. “The walls are thick, don’t worry.”
I scrunch my face up because he really is so adorable, and I can’t believe I’m about to ruin the mood with my overall anxiety around intimacy. “I don’t really. . .” I rub my hands together. “It’s um, it’s been a while.”
He cocks his head at me, trying to understand, but his smile returns as he gets it. “That’s ok.”
“No, I mean. . .” I struggle with whether or not to let the words escape from me, but ultimately honesty wins the battle. “That day in the rain. . . that wasthe first time I’ve even kissed anyone in years.” It’s so humiliating and yet I continue, “The last time was with. . .” I trail off.
“And you’re feeling nervous?” he asks.
“No. . .” I take a deep breath. “I’m feeling rusty.”
He laughs instinctively, then covers his mouth to stifle the sound.
I put my hands on my hips and he leans in, stroking both my upper arms. “How ’bout, just this once,” he says, “you let someone else take the lead.”
I look into his eyes, trying to decide if I can do this, but I don’t really need any convincing. It’s Benito. My body, my heart—they’ve already made the choice, and my head is outvoted no matter how hard it tries to overthink. He kisses me again and the butterflies do a series of flips in celebration, a victory lap for their host body finally getting the hint.
My fingers quickly find their way back to his hair, as if to put down an anchor and declare they’re not letting go again. He pushes me against the wall, his hands gripping at my waist and then fiddling with the tie of my robe, eventually getting it loose and sliding it off my shoulders. He lays a trail of kisses down my neck and across my collarbone. “You’re perfect, Izzy,” he says breathlessly. “You’re so perfect.”
I pull at his shirt collar because as close as he is, I want him nearer. His body is like a blanket on top of mine and yet, I want to be warmer. I slip out from against the wall and lead him to the bed. Waiting for no invitation, he gently lowers me down onto it and crawls on top of me. His cheekbones are sharper from thisangle, his eyes somehow brighter. “You are so beautiful,” I say. My cheeks flush, but it’s true. Handsome is not strong enough. Cute fails to capture it. He is stunning. He is beautiful.
He strokes my cheek. “Hey, that’s supposed to be my line.”
“I’m serious,” I say as I start to undo the buttons on his shirt. “Since the moment I saw you and every moment since, I’ve been struck by you.” The tops of his abs show through the opened center of his shirt, and I trace their outline with my fingertips. “You’re beautiful. Inside and out.”
His lips are quickly back on mine as his hands roam up my pajama top. He pauses briefly as he reaches the edge of my breast but then decides to dive in, moving his hands over me. He presses his pelvis against mine and I can feel I’m not alone with record-breaking levels of stirring between my legs.
I push at his shirt until he takes the hint and lets it fall to the floor. He lifts the edges of my tank top and I sit up to help it over my head, exposing my bare chest. Any shame that threatens to set in over my nakedness is thwarted when he lets out an exasperated sigh. Never have my B-cups elicited such a reaction. “I know I should talk about how I’m attracted to your brain, your beauty even, but damn it you’re so sexy it drives me wild,” he says, planting a luxurious kiss on the side of my neck.
I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him back on top of me. His hands find their way up my torso. I moan. More, I need more.
He takes the hint, lowering his head between my legs and pulling down my shorts. I take a quick moment of appreciation for having the foresight to put on my cute peach lace underwear this morning. He starts another trail of kisses up my inner right thigh, using his hands to lightly massage the flesh of my legs. He stops short of reaching for the top of my underwear and looks up at me for approval.
“Yes,” I beg. “Please.”
I help him pull my underwear down over my legs and he dives back in, parting my legs and letting his tongue find the right spot between them. Satisfaction washes over me as he moves in circles around me, like an itch that I’ve needed to scratch for weeks. A hand finds its way up my body and latches on to my left breast as he continues. Another long moan makes its way out of me from deep in my gut.
Taking the note, he continues, pressing his tongue even harder onto me, rhythmically moving up and down. The tingling that’s threatened to take over every time I’m close to him erupts throughout my every vein, shooting euphoric pleasure to every corner of my body.
A groan leaps from my throat. “Oh my god,” I say, breathlessly. “More,” I hear myself say, though I’m pretty sure I’m floating three feet above my body. “I need more of you.”
