Sienna.
I’m dozing when Giovanni’s shadow falls over me.
“You’re burnt,” he says.
He’s like a giant, blocking out the whole of the sun.
“You need to put on sunscreen. Where’s your sunscreen?” He crouches down to look through the straw bag I brought to the pool with me.
“Relax,” I say, sitting up, straddling the seat. “It’s here. And I did put it on.” I find the tube of sunscreen under my towel and look down at my chest and he’s right, I did burn. But it’s not bad.
He sits on the edge of the chaise and takes the tube, squeezes some on his hand and starts to rub it into my chest. He’s been like this since he got back. Attentive. Sometimes overly so.
And always watching me.
“Giovanni, stop. It’s fine. It’s not bad and I’m going inside anyway.” I stay his hand, but he seems anxious. And I realize how totally out of place he looks up here in his suit while people are splashing around in the pool. Pop music is playing probably louder than he likes.
“I hate this fucking music,” he says as if he read my mind.
I smile. “It’s your hotel. They’ll play whatever you tell them to.” He’s moved on from my chest to my stomach and seems to be taking special care there. His gaze is fixated on my belly button as he gently rubs the sunscreen in. “Giovanni, stop. It’s fine. I’m going inside anyway. I don’t need more sunscreen.”
He stands up abruptly like he’s just realized where he is. What he’s doing. He shoves my towel into my bag. “Let’s go.”
I reach out, grab his hand. “Wait.”
When he looks impatiently down at me, I can’t tell what’s in his eyes. It’s like a storm of emotions and it’s strange, that storm. Like it carries him away from me and the feeling that comes over me, it’s like a weight settling in my belly.
“Did something happen?” I ask, forgetting what I was going to say.
It’s like he’s not here, not hearing me.
Like he’s a world away.
“Giovanni?”
He gives a shake of his head. “Let’s go, Sienna,” he finally says.
I rise, pick up my cell phone from the table.
He hurries me along as we make our way to the elevator.
When I meet my reflection in the mirrored doors, I look at myself in the skimpy bikini-he didn’t even give me time to put my wrap on. My skin gleams with sunscreen and sweat while he stands beside me, impeccable in his suit. Unreadable. Like nothing can penetrate him.
I wonder what it’s like to be like that. To be so confident and comfortable and unafraid.
The elevator doors open and we step into the penthouse.
His gaze sweeps over me, takes in the three triangles at the front, one more at the back. It’s black, just a simple black bikini. And it’s like he’s just realized how naked I am.
He pushes my hair behind my ear, then slides his hand down my back and two tugs later, I feel the top of the bikini fall away, just a wisp, and the only thing between us is the tiny bit of fabric between my legs.
My skin is warm and sticky from the sunscreen, but I don’t think he cares.
Giovanni looks down at my breasts, pale against my slightly burnt skin. He touches one, cups it, weighs it, takes the nipple in his fingers and manipulates it so it hardens, sending sensation down to my belly, my core.
“Wait,” I say, putting my hands against him as he pushes me backward into the wall.
He undoes his belt, his pants. “Wait for what?” he asks, smashing his mouth over mine.
The sweet coconut of the sunscreen mixes with his aftershave and I think about the physical differences between us, him big and hard, all muscle, and I think how much I like it. How safe I feel when he holds me.
I feel his cock at my belly and one hand moves to grip my hip as his other cups my jaw.
“Wait for what?” he repeats before lifting me a little, positioning me, his fingers pushing the slip of fabric between my legs aside so he can thrust into me. Hurrying. Like he’s desperate.
It’s hard and it forces the breath from me. I’m not yet ready, but I like it. I always like the first thrusts. The hurt.
I can come from that hurt alone.
“Look at me, Sienna.”
My eyes zero in on his and he’s watching me. His pupils are dilated so all I see are the rings of green and blue, that gray banished now as he fucks me, and I wonder how I’m not split in two. How someone so big doesn’t just tear me in two.
I dip my head into his shoulder.
With his chest against mine, he keeps me trapped at the wall as he takes my face in both hands.
“I said look at me.” He squeezes.
“Giovanni?”
His thumbs press into my cheeks. I notice he’s not blinking. Something’s wrong. I know it.
“What’s happened?” I ask.
He shakes his head, shifts his grip to cup my ass, pulling me open. I feel his finger press against my tight hole. He licks my mouth, my lips, then kisses me the way he does when he’s going to come and we’re so close. Connected.
“You don’t know how much I need this,” he says.
I never thought I’d like sex. I never thought it was possible for someone like me to like it. Take pleasure from it. But with him, I come. With him inside me, I come.
And when he comes, it’s abrupt and almost punishing, that last thrust. He buries his face in the crook of my neck and I feel his breath on me as his cock throbs inside me, releasing, releasing. Filling me up.
I’m panting for breath and when he finally pulls out of me, cum slides down my thighs. Then he’s far away again. Silent but holding me close, holding my face, his fingers pressing into my skin.
He’s distant again. In that other world. It’s as if an ocean divides us and I’m left cold.
He steps backward, looks away from me.
I touch his face.
“What’s going on?”
When he finally returns his gaze to mine, it’s like he has to drag it.
“Giovanni?”
“My father was buried yesterday.”