Rallenti

by Sienna Mynx

  “You’ve done that,” she reminded him.

  “Cara? Please. I must explain myself. Give me the chance. See me,” he pleaded. It wasn’t the most eloquent of answers but he hoped it reached her heart.

  The door buzzed open.

  “I’m on the third floor. Apt 323L,” she said and clicked off. He yanked open the door and went inside. The night chill followed him. Renaldo shook off the drifts of snow from his broad shoulders. With each step he felt his anxiety rise. He considered taking the stairs after only a two-minute wait. Dread and desperation weren’t emotions he was familiar with. Both had left him uncertain of what his next move should be. Inside the elevator he swallowed down a large gulp of nerves. He’d been in some tough spots, but he hadn’t been this uncertain of his emotions since the diagnosis of his wife’s blood disorder.

  The elevator stopped.

  Renaldo stepped out and he eagerly checked each door he passed for her apartment number. He knocked only once when he found it. The door opened before he lowered his fist. Kyra stood before him in a long t-shirt that stopped at her hips, and panties. She held a wad of tissue in her hands. Her eyes were red and puffy. She blinked up at him with such sadness his iron force field around his heart collapsed.

  “Kyra?” he said.

  She flew into his arms. Her body trembled against his. Renaldo held her, surprised by the depths of emotion. “It’s awful. I lost my job. I didn’t get the one with Mirabella. And I’ll have to move,” she said in in a single breath.

  He stroked the back of her head with his gloved hand. He wrapped his free arm around her shoulder and kept her pressed to his chest. She was his vibrant little shoe maker, who was as tough as nails and independently fierce. That evening another side of her emerged, both vulnerable and fearful. He walked her back into her apartment and was able to close the door.

  “I can’t stop crying,” she wept.

  The little apartment home was uniquely Kyra. The decorum brought new meaning to the word chaos. It looked as if a typhoon had blown through it. Wads of tissue were everywhere. Clothing was folded in chairs, and stacked in baskets near the kitchen area. The amount of shoes and shoeboxes could fill a small boutique. And his Kyra had a collection of magazines like he’d never seen. Most with cut out pages and many piled in every corner and on every table. As much as he hated chaos he loved the look and feel of the place. It was all Kyra.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. She tried to push free of their embrace. “I shouldn’t have attacked you at the door.”

  “Attack? It was no attack,” he assured her. To keep her from escaping he held her hand in his and kissed her knuckles. He walked her over to the sofa. They sat there and eventually she drifted over closer. He was able to comfort her like he wished.

  “I screwed it all up. Everything. My parents. My career. Everything. I thought I could... I thought I’d prove them wrong. I’m a joke.”

  “You are no joke. Not to me,” he lifted her chin and looked down into her eyes, her long lashes glistened slick with tears.

  “Why did you come here, Renaldo?” she asked. “You know I only got close to you to get the interview. I used you…”

  “No one uses me, cara,” he said with a light chuckle.

  “But you said we were done?” she asked.

  “I lied. When I said I wanted nothing from you, with you, I lied.” He kissed her forehead. “I don’t need much. It makes life easier to be the man I am. I do what I must to provide for my son. You’re right. In life there has to be more.”

  “More what?” she asked.

  Renaldo searched himself for the answer. He didn’t know the exact words. He glanced back into her eyes and realized her problems were greater than his own. “I will go to the Battaglias. Talk to them for you. Find you a job.”

  “No. Don’t. If I make it, then I make it on my own. Marietta was right. I should have never come through the door of Mirabella’s as a receptionist, or tried to get to them through you. I should have stood up for my talent. Believed in myself more. And you. I’m sorry. We took things too far…” she looked up at him. “I don’t want you to ever think of me as they do. I can’t do this. You should go now.”

  “Kyra?” he objected.

  “What more do you need me to say, Renaldo? What is there left? I just need to be alone to figure things out.” She tried to stand but he prevented it. When she sat she looked up at him with such pain and conflict in her eyes. He wished she didn’t take life so seriously. A fall doesn’t mean disaster, not when you are as talented and as beautiful as she. What she needed was someone to help her stand again.

  He pressed a soft kiss to her lips to silence her. “Shoe maker, be silent.”

  She pushed back against his chest. “Don’t.”

  “Shhh,” he kissed her neck and the push of her hands to his chest softened.

  “It can’t work,” she said in a weak tremor of a voice. “You don’t live here. I don’t live in Italy. Soon you will leave and I will never see you again.”

  Renaldo lifted his mouth from her neck and brushed it once again over her lips. “We aren’t done.”

  “We are,” she breathed.

  “Let me help you. We both know I can,” he looked her in the eyes.

  “No. I don’t need your help,” she said.

  “Liar,” he smiled.

  She pressed her lips together. Her lashes lowered and her gaze dropped to his lips. She pulled him by the collar so he came toward her and his lips were within reach. One kiss brought her down on the sofa with him easing over her. Renaldo was careful to not push all of his weight down on her. But kissing Kyra often made his grip on control soften. He tore his mouth from hers, desperate to be closer to her. She helped him remove his coat. He tugged at her panties. Kyra lifted her hips to allow him to roll the delicate lace pair off her ass, thighs, and down her shapely legs.

  Renaldo removed his gloves watching as she pulled her sorority letter t-shirt over her head and tossed it aside. She parted her knees for him and her sweet flower opened in the loveliest fashion to tempt him.

  Next came his gun, he unfastened the strap around his shoulders and set it with the gun encased in the holster on the coffee table. It was illegal to carry it in New York. But he was never without his own piece when he arrived in the States. Kyra’s eyes flashed to the Berretta, and then looked up to him. She didn’t say a word. She knew who he was now and in her eyes he saw acceptance.

  “We can go to my bedroom,” she said.

  There was no time for that. He would not stand another delay. “Touch yourself. For me, Kyra,” he requested.

  She smiled and nodded. He shed his shirt and unbuckled his belt, dropping his pants and removing his boxers in one deft move. He was naked within a matter of seconds.

  All he hungered for was her soft body, her tight pussy, and her succulent mouth on his. He needed her now. She groaned and rubbed her pussy for him, while turning and twisting the peak of her nipple.

  “Renaldo,” Kyra sighed. “I will miss you, Renaldo,” she said and began to stroke her two middle fingers deep into her sex, her mouth parted in a sexy gasp of pleasure. “So much,” she moaned, her head turning left and right on the cranberry red sofa pillows.

  “I’m here now,” he replied.

  “Yes, you are.” She opened her eyes and smiled up at him. He dropped to the sofa with one knee. He stopped her from pleasing herself. Renaldo ran his hand down her thigh. He then shut her knees. He forced her legs up, straight, closed together. He pushed them back bringing her feet past her head to the arm of the sofa and her knees to her breast. The position brought her ass up from the sofa and put her pussy on full display. He kept her pinned this way. Kyra parted her knees only slightly to open herself up to him. He swiped his tongue over and heard her stutter a release of pleasure. The kiss he put on her there had her squirming and begging for more. Sucking and teasing her clit, using his tongue to lick and delve deep, she begged for it.

  Renaldo released her f
rom that position to ensure he didn’t take her too far beyond his reach. She dropped one leg over the back of the sofa and the other over the side with her foot planted to the floor.

  “Mmm,” she said rubbing her sex once more.

  The parting kiss he gave her sex stripped away the last of his trepidation. He was now where he belonged. He dragged his cock with the arch of his back and lift of his ass. He tightly gripped the side arm of the sofa, his arm stretched above her head for support. And he took hold of the root of his dick to steady his aim.

  Renaldo’s gaze flickered to Kyra. She peered down the line of her body, intensely focused on where penetration would commence. Her gaze lifted to his and she licked her lips, grabbing hold of his hips to encourage him to go for it. Renaldo shot his hips forward and pumped inch after inch into her. He gripped the side arm of the sofa now with both hands. Hotly focused on the pleasurable tightness of her silky walls. Kyra groaned, not in pain but pleasure.

  Those round perfectly shaped globes with dark berry nipples shook in response to his thrusting. And to his delight Kyra moved and instructed his rhythm. He closed his eyes and let the sexual ecstasy take over.

  Too hard.

  Too strong.

  Too big.

  Everything about the man was huge. From his hands, head, shoulders and chest. And most importantly, the loveliest part of his body, his dick. Kyra arched up into him to turn the force of his direction into something more appeasing. And it worked.

  “Oh yes! Mmm, yeah!” Kyra cried out. Her left leg had fallen over the sofa. Renaldo scooped it over the crease of his elbow causing her foot and calf to hang in an awkward angle, as his powerful thrust drove what felt like eighteen inches of raw steel wrapped in silk into her. Kyra clawed at his sides.

  “Rallenti!” she pleaded through deep gasps.

  He relented but only a bit. Enough for her to melt back into the natural rhythm. And when his warm mouth and wet tongue left hers to flick at her nipple, pleasure seized her loins. Sweating, panting, writhing beneath him she begged for more.

  And then his moving resolved into a slow stop. He brought his face back up and spoke with his eyes glued to hers. “Turn over for me, cara, I promise to be gentle,” he said. But was it a promise he could keep? The passion and history between them said otherwise.

  Renaldo withdrew. Without thought she flipped over to her belly. Renaldo’s tongue licked up and down her back. He kissed her ass, sunk his teeth into one cheek. She bit down into the sofa pillow that smelled of her. Those huge hands of his eased underneath her and lifted her pelvis. With her face pressed into the pillow she felt her knees part and she backed her ass up towards him. Kyra tried to turn her head to see him behind her. For a second she feared he’d take her in the most forbidden way. She loved the guy but no way could she withstand that. Then she felt him nudge at her pussy and relaxed. He sank back into her with ease. He pinched her clit and she gasped. He began to flick and tug at the knot between the folds of her pussy as he thrust in and out of her from the backward rise. Her ass went flush against his soft pubes and his dick delved as far as it could reach. Kyra groaned and moved. He smacked her ass. The heat of the next strike ripened her, opened her.

  Renaldo grunted. He was on one bended knee behind her with the other foot planted on the ground, and he gripped her by both hips. He increased the velocity of his fuck with his large testicles slapping against her over stimulated pussy.

  “Yes, yes, yes,” she cried. So good, so long, so deep she had not achieved this level of pleasure with him. Her body was ready. Tonight she withstood all of him.

  If she kept moving and grooving back against him he’d loose control. He resisted the urge to pull out and bury his face into her ass and his tongue into her pussy. He wanted nothing more than to taste her release. But he had no willpower. He would fuck her until every drop of his seed spilled. He dropped his head back and locked his jaw with gritted teeth. The hold he had on her went as tight and rigid as his breathing. He cursed the universe for not making him stronger.

  He was undone. Kyra collapsed weakly beneath him and only then had he realized he was fucking her wild and free. Did he hurt her? At some point he lost control. It was as if his mind blinked off for the cataclysm.

  “Kyra?”

  She moaned. He withdrew and lifted from her. She lay in his arms with her breath shallow, eyes closed. He scooped her up and brought her into his arms. If she hadn’t smiled he would be destroyed by his actions. But she did. She weakly held to him as he carried her from the sexed sofa. He stepped over her shoeboxes and shoes, clothing, and even what looked to be a portable radio. The woman lived with everything she owned on the floor.

  He smiled. “Chaos. I love your chaos.”

  “Mmhm,” she agreed. He found a room. It was the master bedroom but it was reasonably neat with a made bed. He laid her down on it and then joined her. She immediately coiled into a fetal position. Renaldo forced her to lay straight and against him. He drew the covers up and held her to his chest.

  “I’m going to miss you… don’t go,” she said softly.

  “I wish to stay,” he confessed. “I cannot.”

  “I know. I know,” she said with defeat. She kissed his chest and snuggled him. Renaldo closed his eyes and enjoyed their time. No matter how brief.

  ***

  Several hours after the most wonderful bliss he could share with a woman his eyes opened. They flew out of New York at seven in the morning. He guessed it to be close to four. He had to leave.

  “Kyra,” he kissed her brow. “Kyra?” he spoke against her ear.

  “Mmm?”

  “I have to say goodbye,” he whispered.

  She sucked down a deep breath and expelled an even deeper sigh. She turned out of his embrace and put her hand to her eyes. “What time is it?”

  “Early. Three or four?” he replied.

  “Can’t you stay another hour? Please?” she glanced over at him.

  He gave her a sad smile.

  “Will I ever see you again, Renaldo?” she asked and they both knew the truth. Kyra sat up in bed naked. She put her hands to her face. Renaldo eased up to sit at her side and pulled her under his arms. “I can’t believe this. I barely know you and I feel like… I wish I had never met you. I wish I had never gotten my hopes up about Paris.” She shrugged off his embrace. “Get out! Go! Get out of here!” she shouted at him with tears glistening in her eyes. Her anger was false. He knew anger, and he knew disappointment, Kyra’s emotion bordered both.

  “Go!” she shouted at him, now open with her weeping.

  Renaldo nodded. He wished their parting wasn’t a hostile one. But if it made it easier on her to say goodbye he’d oblige. And he would keep his promise. If he had to go to the Don himself to barter it, she would have her job in Paris. It would be his final gift to her.

  She stood in the dark room crying, watching him. She followed him out of the room with her arms crossed. She glared as he dressed. He glanced back to her once when he put his shoulder strap on and made his gun secure. “If ever I do return–”

  She shook her head no. “Don’t! I don’t need this. I don’t want to go through this again.”

  Renaldo understood. If he ever did come to America it would be for a purpose that wouldn’t be her.

  “Ti adoro. Sei importante per me. Mi ha stragata,” he said. She didn’t ask for the translation but he decided to share it with her. “I adore you. You are very important to me. Take care, cara,” he kissed the tip of his fingers and let them go to send the kiss to her. She looked away. Renaldo walked out of the tiny apartment and into the hall. He could hear her engage the double locks to the door. With a sad shake of his head he forced his hands into the pockets of his trench coat and continued on.

  To send him out the door this way felt just as wrong as abandoning her dreams. But she was so angry at him and the world. Kyra put her hands to her face.

  “Renaldo,” she said. Without another thought to hedge her actions,
she picked up her sorority letter shirt and put it on. She pulled on some jogging pants, hurried to put her feet in her snow boots, and only stopped to grab her coat. She bolted from the apartment. She wouldn’t let him go without saying goodbye. In the hall she ran for the elevator but she knew it would be too late if she waited on it. So she pushed out of the emergency door and bounded down three flights of stairs as fast as her legs would allow.

  “Please. Please. Please still be out there!” Kyra forced the door open and raced outside into the cold and snow. She fast walked down the sidewalk. In the distance she saw red taillights of a car. His car.

  She put her hand to her mouth and blinked away her tears. “Damn it, Kyra! You’re so damn stupid!” she moaned.

  “You are stupid,” a voice answered.

  Kyra turned. Cezar stood there in the cold. He was damn near blue and shivering. His hoodie barely covered the ghastly bruises on his face, a busted lip and a blackish purplish eye. Did Renaldo do that? He looked like a monster. And he approached her like one dragging his left leg a bit when he walked. There was a brace on the outside of his pants on his knee.

  “What are you doing here?” she shouted at him.

  “Waiting. Waiting on you.” Cezar took a step toward her. “I saw him arrive, and I waited. I saw him leave. I thought to myself…” he stepped toward her and she stepped back. “Kill him. Kill him for the disrespect. Fucker made me bust my knee when he threw me to the ground. But then I said, no. It’s not his fault. It’s not mine. It’s yours.”

  It was then that she caught a glimpse of the large gun in his hand. Kyra’s heart lodged in her throat. Never in her life had she been so afraid as she was that moment. She took another step back.

  “Stay away from me” She took another step back with her hands up.

  “Why?” he shouted at her. “For days I’ve tried to talk to you. Days!”

  Kyra held her coat closed with one hand and put another one up. “Please don’t.” She glanced to the windows of her building. It was too early in the morning for Jamie to be perched at her window. Every window above was dark and absent of life. Kyra kept backing away. If she ran past him he’d shoot her before she reached her step. And even if he didn’t she wouldn’t have enough time to punch in her key code to get the door open. Every option that flashed in her mind led to a dead end. No option would offer escape.