He holds me steady while I ride out the waves, and once they pass, he takes the end of the pen out of me, stands, and presses his body over mine. I’m still panting, my breaths fanning over his wet lips as he says, “You taste so fucking good, Ale.”
“Do I?” I’ve never thought about my taste before.
“Lick it off my lips.”
He wants me to taste myself? I’m not sure how I feel about it, but I know I’ll do anything he tells me to at the moment. His dark gaze holds me in its grip as I dart out my tongue and drag it over his full bottom lip. Hmm. It’s not unpleasant. Earthy and a little salty. I lick him again, and this time he moans and presses his mouth over mine.
I tangle my hands in his hair and wrap my legs around his waist as he devours me. I can feel the desire he has for me, and not just because of the hardness in his pants, but because of the desperate vigor behind his kiss.
This man wants me. If I hadn’t run, I would have lived my entire life without experiencing this once.
That realization sets off something inside of me. To my utter horror, I begin to cry. Tears trail paths down my cheeks, and I don’t want him to see them, so I break the kiss and press my nose into his chest. I want to inhale his skin, to imprint its memory somewhere deep inside my head.
But he’s not stupid. Far from it. It takes him only moments to realize something is wrong.
He places his hands on the desk and pushes himself up to put some distance between us. When he sees my face, his expression becomes perplexed. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” I say with a watery voice. “I’m okay.”
He helps me sit up. “You’re crying.”
“Unfortunately.”
“I don’t understand. Talk to me.”
God, why does he have to sound so worried? It makes me cry more.
He runs his hand over the back of his head and swears. “This is really not the reaction I was going for.” He produces a tissue from somewhere and hands it to me. “Here.”
I swipe at my drippy nose and eyes and at last manage to compose myself. “You didn’t do anything. It’s just…” I glance away. “I’m overwhelmed. You see…I haven’t had that done to me before.”
His amazement is underscored with a sharp intake of breath. “You haven’t had a man go down on you?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“I was the first.”
“Yes.”
He swipes his bottom lip with his thumb and studies me for a long moment. “You don’t have much experience with this, do you?”
Embarrassment prickles over my cheeks. “No.”
I don’t know what I expect him to do, but it sure isn’t to sigh and pull me into his chest. “I assumed things. Again.”
“It’s fine. I-” I clear my throat. “I’m ready to keep going.”
“We’re done for tonight.”
“What? I thought you had other plans.”
He rubs his cheek against my temple. “The things I said to you… What did they make you feel?”
“The dirty things?”
“Yes.”
“I liked them.”
“Did you?”
“God, yes.”
He makes a noise of satisfaction. “Good. I have so many more things I want to tell you. To do to you. But not tonight.”
He lifts me up by my thighs, making me curl my bare legs around his waist, and carries me to the enormous bed. He’s still hard, I can feel him right between my legs, but when I try to grind against him, he moves me so that I can’t reach him anymore.
My emotions are all over the place. I’m embarrassed and vulnerable. I really screwed this up, and I don’t understand why I couldn’t hold my emotions in. It’s like my mind isn’t working the way it should-the way it did before everything happened with Lazaro.
Damiano pulls the duvet back and places me on the silky sheets.
“I’m a mess,” I mumble.
He climbs in beside me and wraps his arms around my waist. The empathy he’s displaying at the moment is so unexpected that I start to question my entire perception of him. Who is the real Damiano?
“Get some sleep,” he tells me, holding me close to him.
He caresses my back with light strokes until he drifts off. When his breathing slows, I tilt my head up and analyze his face. He looks at peace.
Unfortunately, I can’t relate. I won’t be able to catch a wink here with him. My heart is bouncing around my chest, and my thoughts race like a herd of wild horses. I think back to him kneeling between my legs, and I can’t believe that that is what sex can be. Of course, I was aware that what Lazaro and I did could hardly constitute real lovemaking, but even in my most optimistic fantasies, I could never have come close. The way he looked at me the entire time, the way he saw me, the pleasure that he made me feel…
I squeeze my eyes shut. For Damiano, this was just one of many hookups. For me, a revelation. This asymmetry is not in my favor, and I can’t risk giving him any more power over me.
When I’m confident he’s in deep sleep, I climb out of the bed, tug my clothes on, and get off the yacht. As I flag a taxi to take me back to the hostel, I’m sure of one thing and one thing only.
This can’t happen again.
DAMIANO
I wake up with a dick harder than a steel bar.
Despite the unpleasant heaviness in my balls, a grin unfurls over my lips at memories of last night. I was the first man to taste Ale. The first one to dip my tongue into her hot, needy flesh. Her inexperience is a surprise I hadn’t expected, but it awakens something fiercely possessive inside of me. I’m going to really fucking enjoy teaching her all the ways we can get each other off.
Starting now. I extend my hand, searching for a full breast or a firm ass cheek, but all I find is a cold silk sheet.
What the fuck?
I crack my eyes open, and I can’t fucking believe it.