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The Sting of Love: USA Today Bestselling Author

Page 3

by Gray, Khardine


  “I don’t mind it,” he adds, seeing my hesitation. “Willow.”

  “Some people don’t like shortening their names. That’s why I asked.” I smile and continue drinking my drink, enjoying it and enjoying talking to him.

  “I think you’ll find that I’m not like some people. What do you want to call me?”

  The glint in his eyes makes my nerves scatter. “I wouldn’t want to be the odd one out, so I’ll go with the crowd even though I think Donatello sounds cooler. Like my father, I’m an artist, and I absolutely love anything Renaissance. So, I’m inclined to think that Donatello, as in Donatello di Niccolò di Betto Bardi, the renaissance artist and sculptor, sounds cool.”

  He looks impressed. “Wow, I knew there was definitely something I liked about you. Although I was named after him, people never really make the connection when they hear my name.”

  “No?” I’m surprised to hear that.

  “No, you’re the first.” His gaze drops down to my hands and scans over my fingers. I think he’s looking for a ring. When his gaze flicks back up to meet mine, there’s a smile in his eyes. “How old are you?”

  “Isn’t it rude to ask a lady her age?” I’m trying to be cool and nonchalant too. He notices and smiles running his gaze over my face.

  “Not if you’re making sure she’s legal.” His eyes glow with a lust filled inner fire that fills me with undeniable sexual anticipation I can’t resist. It makes my body heat up again. “Wouldn’t want my ass thrown in prison for being with a minor.”

  I laugh. I have to. There’s no way I look underage in any way. I’m pretty certain that with all I’ve been through I’ve aged.

  “A minor. You think I look like a minor?”

  He quirks a brow. “It’s a compliment sweetheart. Same as being ID’d when you buy a drink or a pack of cigarettes. So hey, why don’t you put me out of my misery, Willow.”

  “I’m twenty-eight.”

  “Thank fuck, although… you don’t look twenty-eight, Bella.”

  I like how he swaps between calling me Bella and sweetheart, and I’m absorbing the attention this delicious man is giving me. Attention I desperately crave.

  “Thank you. That’s quite a compliment. Do I get to find out how old you are?”

  “Thirty-five,” he answers.

  “You don’t look like thirty-five.” I pegged him at being either the same age as me or in his early thirties.

  “Thank you,” he answers, giving me a clipped nod then that lust filled desire comes back to his eyes. “Come outside with me.”

  He moves from behind the counter and starts walking toward the archway. I set my glass down and follow. We go outside and stand on the balcony, and the cool night air lifts my hair and caresses my cheeks.

  “You said you wanted fresh air,” he points out. The soft light from the moon highlights the outline of his face, showing the sharp angles and planes as he smiles.

  “Yeah. This is nice,” I agree.

  “Why did you need fresh air?”

  I gaze at him and note how curious he seems. The question is expected since it’s obvious something must have happened to send me out here by myself.

  “I had some stuff happen and I needed to clear my head,” I explain.

  “Sorry to hear. Well, you came to the right place. When you come to Bel Posto, you forget the shit and do whatever you want to do for the night. Be whoever you want to be and be with whomever you want to be with.” His eyes hold me in place, and I’m frozen in the lure of his words.

  They sound like freedom. Freedom from the problems that have caused me to lose myself over the last few months. If I’m honest though, I think I lost myself long before. I think there was a point too when I stopped loving William and started doubting why I was with him. The reason why I’m so mad at the situation is that I’m mad at myself. There’s no way I should have had doubts like that and walked down an aisle to marry anybody, then have him dump me.

  “People actually do that here? Do whatever they want?” I don’t know why I bother to ask. Aunt Lurlene is exactly like that. She always has been, and that’s why she’s here.

  Is that why I’m here too? Last week, I packed my bag and jumped on a plane and headed to Sicily. There must have been something in my subconscious mind that told me I’d find the refuge I was seeking by doing so.

  His gaze intensifies again, and as he tilts his head to the side, his eyes shimmer against the moonlight.

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you?”

  “I’m doing it now.” His teeth look even whiter in the subtle light.

  “What? By hanging out here with me?”

  “Yeah. What about you, Bella, do you want to give it a try?” He reaches forward and runs a finger over my chin, lingering at the edge of my cheek. A tremor of heat lances through me at his touch. “All you have to do is forget what sent you here.”

  “Could it be that simple?” I wish it were.

  He nods and gives me a wolfish grin. “You just move it out of your mind and think of the insane chemistry we have going on here.”

  “Chemistry?”

  “Don’t you feel it?”

  My breath stills. I can’t lie and tell him I don’t. He walks around me slowly, taking purposeful strides, circling me the way a predator would its prey.

  The smile that lights up his face as he continues his observation makes my pussy clench with need.

  “I know you feel it,” he says in a low deep voice.

  “What if I did? I can’t just do what I want.”

  “Depends on what you want to do.”

  I bite the inside of my lips, trying to hold in the burning desire sizzling my skin. I want so badly to escape the hell my life has become that it’s not hard for that desire to entice me to forget and give in to temptation.

  What I want is for him to touch me. Everywhere. I want him to touch me everywhere and consume me with the same desire I see burning deep in his eyes. I can’t remember the last time I had fun, or the last time I truly did what I wanted to do. Me coming to Italy was more about the need, not to flee a bad situation that overwhelmed me.

  I gaze up at the beautiful man in front of me as he drops his hand back to his side and gives me a lopsided grin filled with sin and temptation that flows between us.

  “What do you want to do?” I ask him. I want to check that what I’m seeing is real.

  “There are many things I want to do, but ladies first.”

  Realistically, I must have known that agreeing to go with him for a drink was an agreement to the possibility of doing more.

  The wild chemistry he spoke of burns me up from the inside out the longer he stares. He stops in front of me and looks me over, allowing his gaze to rake boldly over my body.

  “Do you need some help, Bella?” he adds.

  “Maybe…” I hear myself say.

  “Okay. How about I show you what I mean with this kiss, then you can take it from there.”

  My cheeks burn as he lowers his head and moves to my lips. Time slows, stilling around the wild sexual haze surrounding us until it stops. I don’t move.

  His mouth brushes against mine and sparks of electricity pulse from his lips, setting my body on fire. It’s like throwing a match on a trail of gasoline.

  I already know I’m not going to be able to resist anything else this man has in store for me.

  Chapter Three

  Willow

  I’ve never really tasted a person before.

  Never really took the time to think about what a man tastes like when he kisses you and you get that first insight into him.

  This is the first time I’ve ever been enticed.

  Donny tastes like sex, hunger, and… danger.

  I don’t know if that’s any way to describe a person, but that’s what I taste as our tongues tease and tangle. Play. He plays with my tongue as he kisses me, sucking on it as he tastes me.

  The pleasure sends fire straight through my soul and makes
my head spin. I’m dizzy with the white-hot greed of desire that ripples through me and makes my pussy clench with need, desperate for him to be inside me. So desperate I’m wet and embarrassed because I can’t remember the last time I felt this way.

  The erotic feasting of my lips awakens my body, but just when I melt against the hard walls of his chest, he pulls away. The satisfied smile on his face, however, is a tell that he’s not finished with me yet, or this game we’re playing.

  A game I’ve decided I like and my body has become a willing participant in. Ready to play some more.

  “It’s your turn, doll…” he whispers, and his warm, sexy breath tickles my nose. My lips part, and I stare up at him.

  My turn. It’s my turn to do what I want. What do I want to do to him?

  My gaze flicks over his delicious lips, and I don’t think anymore. I act. Impulse drives me to what I want, making me push up to the tips of my toes and meet his lips once more.

  This time when our lips meet, the kiss is greedy and wild. He slips his hand behind my head to deepen the kiss, and it becomes explosive.

  Fuck…

  The start of an orgasm claws at the edge of my belly, making me crave this man I just met. This man who tastes like sex and fire, hunger, and danger. I want it all, and I want him to give it to me.

  He sweeps his tongue over mine, and we kiss like our lives depend on it. He holds me to him, and I don’t know how the hell he manages to exercise so much control and not allow desire to carry him away, but he does and stops once again.

  I’m glad he can think for the both of us because I can’t.

  A sexy smile tips the corners of his sensual lips, and I expect him to release the hold he has on me, except he doesn’t. He moves closer, like he’s going to kiss me again but looms before my eyes.

  “Bella, it’s my turn. I can see you like this game.”

  I answer with a soft whimper, and his eyes drop down to the rise and fall of my chest. He stares openly at my breasts, arousing me even more.

  He returns his focus to my eyes and slides his fingers through my hair. “What I want is to push you up against that wall,” he says and moves in closer until his nose brushes lightly along mine. “I want to strip off your clothes so I can taste you everywhere. Then I want to fuck you until you scream my name.”

  My eyes go wide.

  Jesus… the men I’m used to would never speak like that. I always go for the guys who seem like they’d be the good husbandly types you imagine taking care of you for the rest of your life. That’s my mother’s influence, even though she married my father, the wild artist who took her to Paris and eloped.

  I definitely had it all wrong because damn it to hell does his idea sound amazing. That smile returns to his face, and he presses his nose against mine.

  “Bella, if you don’t want that, then you need to stop me now, and we’ll go back inside and continue drinking. What happens next, doll?”

  The ball is in my court, and my body is screaming for him. I don’t want to stop him. I don’t want to go back to drinking or go back to the woman I was when I first walked through the doors of the club.

  I can’t.

  I’m already addicted to the hunger in his eyes. But can I do this? Sleep with a stranger?

  We just met.

  Can I have sex with a man I just met?

  I’ve never had a one-night stand before. I hardly believe in kissing on the first date, and look at me thinking of breaking two rules all at once.

  I think I want him too badly to say no. This year has been shit, and I want to feel good. Driven wild with desire and this insanely attractive man’s thirst for me, I answer him with a kiss. It’s a kiss that speaks of all I want him to do to me and all that I want to do to him.

  As he pushes me against the wall, though, I know I probably won’t get any form of chance to touch him the way my traitorous body wants me to explore him. I’m paralyzed with desire and the hunger for him to take me.

  “Slow, Bella. Slowly. I want to enjoy you.” He nips at my earlobe and presses his large hand to the flat of my stomach sending the nest of butterflies into a frenzy.

  The gentle breeze lifts a lock of my hair and curls it over his shoulder reminding me that we’re practically outside. My God, as if this wasn’t wild enough. We’re out here, and while I can’t see anyone on the beach, that doesn’t mean there won’t be anybody coming along.

  Do I care though?

  The answer comes when he slips the little straps of my dress down my shoulders. He pushes the dress down past my breasts, and it drifts down to the ground to pool at my feet.

  I moan low when Donny kisses his way from my neck to my chest, and I push my head against the wall, arching my back when he fills his palms with my breasts.

  He squeezes them through the black lace of my bra, but he could be touching my bare skin.

  When he snaps the little butterfly clasp holding my bra together and my breasts spill out, my arousal for him is clear in the tight, tautly puckered peaks of my nipples. Awareness fills me that I’m naked in front of him, but he steals my thoughts away when he covers my right nipple with his hot, wet mouth and starts sucking.

  Mindless moans of ecstasy fall from my lips, and I’m so wet I’m sure I’m leaking. Again, I’m embarrassed by how much I need him and need what he’s doing to me.

  My body betrays me, and I can’t calm. I’m thankful that he seems to be a man who knows exactly what to do to take care of my needs, and his. He moves from my right breast to my left and gives it equal attention.

  When he sucks hard, I come equally as hard, crying out and moaning the pleasure that’s racing through my body.

  I run my hands over his wide shoulders, digging my nails into corded muscles that tense and harden at my touch.

  “That’s right, Bella, come for me,” he taunts and makes me gasp when he moves away the fabric of my panties and slides his fingers straight into my pussy.

  His fingers circle my passage, stroking my walls, and push hard against my clit.

  “Donny…” I moan and he starts pumping his fingers in and out, pumping harder when he adds another finger to truly finger-fuck me.

  Another orgasm tears through me, leaving me breathless and a satisfied grin dances across his face as I come undone. I’m thankful for the cool night air drifting over me as it balances the heat burning me up from the inside out.

  He crouches down, and I suck in a sharp breath when he buries his face between my thighs and pushes his tongue right up inside me to taste me just like he said he would. I would more describe it as drinking. He drinks me up as he eats me out, feasting on me like I’m something rare and exotic and I’m his last meal. It feels so damn good I lose myself to pleasure. I find myself moaning again and writhing against his face.

  He cups my ass and holds me to him in a rough, possessive manner, as if he’s declaring me his.

  He drinks me all up, stroking and swirling his tongue over the hard nub of my clit, making me dizzy with pleasure.

  I think he senses I’m almost at orgasm again because he does that control thing and stops mid-suckle. He stands up and my gaze drops to the very impressive bulge of his cock pressing against his pants. He notices the way I look at his cock and smiles.

  “The next time you come is on my cock. Are you on birth control, Bella?” he asks, and it takes me a moment to think about what he’s asking.

  “Yes.” I nod. I’m good for three years. I had my shot just before the wedding that never happened.

  “Good… I’m clean. Are you? I want to feel you.”

  My damn mouth waters at the thought of having him inside me, skin to skin. I know this is reckless and crazy. I don’t have any friends who would condone this. None of them are probably as crazy as I am, and that’s why I’m nodding now, falling headfirst into my inner desires.

  He undoes a few buttons on his shirt and whips it off over his head, exposing the artwork of tattoos lining his chest. The dragon that peeks out at
his neck and the tattoos on his forearms are just the beginning of the beauty on his masterpiece of a body. This is definitely a man I would love to explore over and over again.

  The trance breaks when he undoes his belt and it clinks. He zips down the fly of his pants, pushing them down his legs along with his boxers, and his cock, thick and massive, springs free with precum on the tip.

  My mouth waters again wanting to taste him. I don’t get the chance to, though, because he turns me to face the wall and smooths his hands down to my ass and over to hold my hips.

  I press my hands against the rough, rigid concrete and grip in as I feel the fat head of his cock push against my entrance.

  He tightens his grip on my hips and pierces into me, pushing his cock deep into my passage that takes him, welcoming him.

  He feels so good inside me, filling me right up with his thick cock. I’m full of him, and I gasp when he hits my G-spot. He starts with a series of slow even pumps, then the onslaught of heat comes for me again when his pumps speed up.

  I gasp and try to catch my breath, holding on to my breasts as they bounce painfully against my chest with each powerful thrust. My hair falls forward over my face, and all I can see is strands of hair flowing wildly in front of me.

  “Ohhhh, Donny…” I moan when the pleasure rises.

  “That’s right, Bella, you keep saying my name as I fuck you.”

  True to his word, he speeds up his pumps even more and starts fucking me. His pumps speed to a furious blast of energetic pounding as he jackhammers into me hard and sure.

  He takes me relentlessly and in a way I know I’ll never forget this night. Many nights will pass me by in my life, but I won’t forget this, or him. He’s making sure of it, and making sure I know I’m being claimed.

  He starts fucking me with a crueler, more demanding edge, and I scream his name. The sound comes from deep inside me, from a place where the pleasure builds and rises until it takes everything.

  When the furious blast of pumps slows, his cock pulses inside me just at the time when I go over the edge. Pleasure calls and claims him too, making him thunder into me with a spray of hot cum that coats my walls. It’s hot and virile with that edge of possession, just like him.

 

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