He lightened his touch. “Is that bad?”
“No, no. I like it. It tingles.” She giggled. The sound of Manny giggling was foreign and wonderful. “You have man hands. You’re wicked macho, you know that, right?”
He grinned; the anxiety he felt about her taking E waned. She was so relaxed and sweet. She looked fucking happy in a way she never did. As he thought that, his hands moved up over her hips, and he shifted his body toward her, leaning over her, about to pull her flat onto the couch. Her sweet smile faded, and he stopped. “Okay?”
“You’re the only person who’s ever touched me like this. I’m like virgin territory.” She snorted a laugh, and the smile was back and bigger. “I’m your manifest destiny.”
“You know what you are? A manifest dork.” Grinning himself, he leaned down and kissed her—his lips on hers, over hers, his tongue in her mouth, her following his lead. She moaned, and her studded tongue trembled against his. He brought a hand to her face. Just that act, cupping her cheek, feeding his fingers into the silken strands of her dark hair, just that made him need to hold his breath and force stillness into his straining body. She felt so fucking good. To touch her and have her respond to him, to do it when she had chosen him, chosen this—he’d never touched a woman and had it feel like this, mean what this meant.
Even if it changed nothing tomorrow, this was everything now.
As they kissed, and he held her close, she reached behind her back and unfastened her bra. She squirmed out of the straps and pulled the red satin out from between them.
He was still completely dressed. He even had his damn boots on. And that meant that he was not feeling her like he could be. So he tore his mouth from hers with a groan and sat back, going for the buttons of his shirt immediately.
Manny whined a little when he pulled away, but when she saw him working his buttons, she smiled. And then she took the rings through her nipples between her fingers and played with them while she watched him open his shirt. About halfway through the endless line of buttons, Luca gave up and just pulled the damn thing over his head.
“You have beautiful little tits, Manny. I want to feel them in my hands. I want to taste them.”
She nodded and raised her arms over her head, arching her back up toward him. “Please.”
“Jesus fuck,” he muttered and put his hands over her small, perfect tits. Manny was fair, her skin smooth and creamy white, and his work-roughened, fight-scarred, sun-darkened Mediterranean paws looked huge and bestial on her. For a sliver of a moment, it felt wrong to touch her. But she gasped deeply when his palms pressed to her skin, and she pushed herself into his hands, and it felt right. It felt perfect.
He did a thing he’d dreamed about for weeks and brushed his thumbs over her small, petal-pink nipples, and she cried out, her body spasming under him. “Manny?”
“Fuck, Luca! That’s…that’s…oh, fuck, don’t stop.”
He didn’t stop. He touched and teased his fill, flipping the rings up and down, pulling on them very lightly, carefully, lest he hurt her. But he was clearly not hurting her. She writhed and moaned and gasped. Her hands came up and rested on his shoulders, and her short nails sank into his skin.
“Suck me,” she whispered, her eyes closed, her teeth biting down on her bottom lip. He complied. He moved his arms around to her back and lifted her up off the sofa. Turning, he sat back and pulled her onto his lap, holding her slight body tightly so that he could move freely from one breast to the other and back again. She hooked her arms around his head and held him close.
She tasted amazing. Like pomegranates and honey and just…Manny. And God, the sounds she was making. He knew her come sounds by heart, the sweet little grunts she made as she climbed her climb, but these were different—deeper and breathier both. As tightly as he was holding her, she was still moving strenuously, her body writhing on him. His cock stretched and pulsed in his jeans, but he was glad it was constrained. Once it was free range, he didn’t know how long he’d last. What was happening here was more potent and emotional that he was used to.
When he bit down gently just behind the ring and pulled lightly, she went rigid and nearly straight in his arms, her body trembling as if a current had run through.
He’d made her come. By attending to her tits. And that, ladies and gentlemen, was a first in his experience.
When the tension left her limbs, he cradled her close. She tucked her head under his chin, panting. She was quiet and still, and Luca cut his internal celebration short, a thin spike of worry returning. “You okay, little bit?”
She nodded and then leaned back to look up at him. Her eyes were wet. “Hey,” he murmured, brushing a tear from the outside corner of her eye. “What’s that about?”
“I don’t know. I’m tilting a little, I guess.”
He looked hard into her eyes, making sure she understood. “You need to stop, you say your word.”
“No! I want more. I just want it for more than tonight. This is what I want with you. Every day.”
He agreed wholeheartedly. “We’ll figure it out. We need to make you lots of memories for tomorrow. That’s the plan, right? Give you things to remember?” He pushed his hand between her legs, and she gasped, her eyes rolling up under their lids. Her panties were soaked through.
“Yes. Oh, yes.”
“Then I am gonna make you come every which way tonight. Unless you say your word.” He wrapped his fingers around the crotch of her panties, making her moan and twitch, and yanked them from her legs.
As soon as she was free of the satin, she let her outside leg fall away, spreading herself wide for him. This loose, relaxed, beautiful girl in his arms was Manny. His Manny. Craving his touch the way he craved hers.
An image crept into his head of a bloody, screaming girl—he pushed it away. If that was going to happen, it was too late to change it.
Her lithe body surged and rolled as he ran his fingers through her folds, over the soft, bare skin, wet and blazing hot. Her skin everywhere was flushed and hot. He paused. “You should have more water, bit.”
She opened her eyes. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”
He laughed out loud. “I was wondering where you were. Tell you what. I’ll get you off like this”—he pushed two fingers deep into her, making her bow sharply backwards against his arm—“and then you’ll drink another bottle of water before I carry you off to fuck you in your bed.” He curled his fingers inside her. “Deal?”
“Fuck! Yes! Do that more!”
He slid his fingers out of her and went for her clit. Though she moaned and writhed deliciously, she brought her head up and gave him a look. “I can do that, you know.”
Little shit. “Can you? You think so?” He put his thumb firmly over her slick little bud, pushing upward slowly, heavy pressure with just a little bit of an arc. She sat up with a cry, and he chuckled. “Is that how you do it?” Before she could answer, he pinched her between his thumb and the knuckle of his forefinger, and she grabbed his forearm in her hands.
“Too much?”
She shook her head. “No—it’s…fuck. I just want to feel the muscles in your arm move while you do it.”
Luca didn’t know why, but that was really hot to hear. His pulse thudding heavily in his ears, his cock straining angrily against the fabric of his jeans, his heart doing some deeply weird shit in his chest, he pushed his fingers deep again, and pressed his thumb to her clit. With his other arm, he brought her close so he could bend down and take a pretty little tit into his mouth while he worked his fingers on her.
She went off almost immediately—so quickly he was almost disappointed, because fuck, he had all of her in his hands, in his mouth, he could smell her and taste her and feel her and hear her and see her, and he wanted to take his fill. He needed memories, too, in case her memories didn’t help her tomorrow. He needed to carry the power of this night with him, so that when it hurt that he couldn’t get close, that she couldn’t let him, he could remem
ber that she did want it, and he could remember what it was like when she did.
Quiet Riot was right. Love was a bitch.
When she was again able to relax, he lifted her, repositioning her on his lap so she could straddle him, and then he stood. She shimmied against his chest with a little purr.
“I love the way the hair on your chest feels on my tits.” She leaned in and sucked on his neck.
“Fuck, bit. You feel pretty damn good yourself. Come on—water.” He walked into the kitchen with Manny wrapped around him. He was holding her nude body in his fucking hands.
She wouldn’t get down, so he got her a fresh bottle, opened it, and handed it to her while he held her. She drank down more than half on the first go, then offered it to him. He took a quick swig and made her finish the rest. If he could keep her hydrated, maybe she wouldn’t be sick in the morning. Maybe that would clear her decks some to remember.
Once he had more water in her, he carried her to her bedroom and went through the bead curtain. She stiffened and squeezed him a little. “Wait.”
“Manny?”
“I’ve…never fucked in my bed before. This is my space. Like, my private space.”
He understood—this was a quirk they actually shared. But he’d be disappointed if they didn’t finish this night in her bed. If nothing else, he wanted the range of movement the bed would give him. This was not some quick fuck they were after.
But he understood. “We can go back to the sofa.”
“No. I want to be in my bed with you. That’s what’s weird.”
He grinned and kissed her nose. “I love you, too, little bit.”
“You’re reading between my lines, aren’t you? You’re way better at that than me.”
“Yeah. I really am.” He carried her to her bed and laid her down. She watched, relaxed, as he stripped off the rest of his clothes—including his boots, which he still had on.
“Damn, boy. You are massively fine. You know that?”
He shrugged and sent her a cocky grin. “Well, you know. I work out.”
“It’s good, really, because you’re a big dork. Kinda balances it out that you’re so hot. I’m shallow like that.”
“Lucky me, then.”
With one notable exception, their sex had always been good. Even with the limits on them, he loved fucking her. But there was so much tension in Manny usually during sex, so much watchful awareness and self-consciousness, that playfulness was rare. Of all the molten hot things that had gone on so far on this evening, Luca thought that maybe her lying on her bed, one leg up at the knee and rocking lazily back and forth, while she teased him might well be the hottest.
This was what he wanted with her.
He went to his knees at the side of her bed and grabbed her legs, pulling her to the edge and dropping her knees over his shoulders. All this handling, she took eagerly. He looked up her body and saw her bright blue eyes gleaming at him. “Round three, sugar. You ready?”
She nodded, biting her lip. Then she asked, “M’I ever gonna get your cock?”
God, yes. It was all he could do to hold back from just jumping on top of her. But he wanted her to have all the feelings. All the memories. Not a quick fuck. “You are going to get every inch of my cock. The night is young. Slow down and enjoy.” He brought his arms around and took hold of her tits, and then he nuzzled into her folds and sucked her clit into his mouth.
She responded with vigor, but this time she didn’t come right away. He didn’t know whether the E was starting to wear off a little already—she hadn’t taken much—or whether she was trying to make it last, to do what he said and slow down and enjoy. But for now, he liked it, liked having time to savor her.
He’d given her head many times, but never without her careful control of his touch. Now, his fingers teased her tits, and his tongue, lips, and teeth excited her sensitive core. She was dripping wet, her hips pulsing with each flick of his tongue between her folds or over her clit.
His own need had grown almost past the point he could manage it. Finally, he released one of her tits and took himself in hand, figuring to jack off and get some relief while he ate her out. He knew damn well he’d be hard again in a few minutes.
But she quickly came up on her elbows and scowled at him. “Are you beating off?”
He pulled away from her pussy enough to answer. “Don’t worry about me. Focus on you.”
“No—Luca. I want your cock. If you need to come, come in me. Please.”
She was lying supine on her bed, waiting for him to mount her. Wanting his weight on her. Why the hell was he thinking about holding off? With a last suck of her clit, he climbed up onto the bed. She scooted back to the middle as he came toward her, and then spread her legs wide.
Looming over her, propped on one elbow, he guided himself into her, relishing the feel of her skin on his as she arched up, accepting him.
As often as he’d been inside her, never had it felt like this. It was just the missionary position, for fuck’s sake, but it was amazing.
She sucked in a deep, audible breath as he entered her, whispering, “Oh, God, your cock is so awesome,” on the exhale.
With a chuckle, he hooked his hands around her back and over her shoulders. He held her tightly. He held her hard. He held her close. And then he thrust into her as hard as he could.
Jesus Christ.
She clenched him, her muscles constricting around him and pulsing, and she wrapped her legs and arms around him. They were tied up in a knot together, and Luca didn’t know how they would manage to go back to what they’d had before. God, he hoped this helped her, because to know this, to feel this woman he loved moving with him, letting him control her, letting his power have her, letting his need feed hers—he needed this. He would get by without it if he had to, but he would feel its loss.
The E was a mistake. Knowing this and losing it would make it a mistake.
But she was coming, and he tucked his face against her throat and felt the vibrations of her breath and pulse. He hammered into her, clutching her as tightly to him as he could, until she screamed.
He’d made her scream. And she wasn’t done. With every plunge into her, she screamed “Oh!” And then “Fuck!” And then “Luca!”
“Sugar, let go. Come on, show me what you got.” He sped up, holding himself back by some mysterious force of will he hadn’t known he possessed. And then she moved against him rather than with him, using his cock wildly as she finished off. He shut his eyes and bore down, restraining himself.
Just as she peaked and began to settle a little, he pulled back and out, and flipped her to her stomach. It was a bold move, and no small risk, to handle her like that. She squealed in surprise, but when he brought her ass up and sank back in deep, the sound she made was full of earthy pleasure.
She went right back up as he slammed her hips backwards against him, and this time he didn’t hold himself off, not for long. When she was screaming again and clutching her neon floral comforter in her fists, he finally released his iron clamp of will on his body and let himself come with her. He came so hard that pain tore through his gut. He came and came, roaring up at the disco balls glittering from her ceiling.
When it was over, he gently eased her back to the bed. He intended to pull out and lie next to her, but the moment he began to shift his hips backwards, she reached back and grabbed his arm.
“Lie on me.” Her breath heaved so that the words were little more than a harsh whisper.
“What? Bit, I’m too big. I’m twice your weight.”
“Please. As much as you can.”
He bent down and kissed the middle of her mandala tat, then he pulled gently out and shifted to the side, enough so that his weight was on the bed next to her, but his leg was over hers, and part of his chest pressed down on her back.
She held and then let out her breath, and he could feel her relaxing completely. “I love you, Luca. I can’t lose this. I’m so scared to lose this.”
“We’ll figure it out. It’s gonna be okay.” But his eyes itched, and his throat knotted.
She turned her head to face him. “That’s what people always say.”
He brushed her bangs away and kissed her damp forehead, lingering for a moment. “And sometimes it’s even true.”
~ 18 ~
Manny’s head hurt. That was the first thing she knew. The second thing she knew was that she was sore—kind of all over. And that knowledge brought the night back to her in a rush. She opened her eyes and sat up—which hurt enough to make her gasp.
She was alone. Well, yeah. She was always alone in her bed.
Except no. She’d fallen asleep last night lying on top of Luca. His arms around her. At least, she thought that was how she’d fallen asleep. That was her last memory. She thought.
Touch (The Pagano Family Book 2) Page 24
