by Mj Fields
“Wake up!” I feel panicked. I cannot hear his name fall from her lips, not ever again.
“Please, B—”
I pull her up and yell, “Please, dammit, please fucking wake up!”
When she grips my shirt, I feel my body tremble, releasing the panic I felt.
“Pleas—”
“Goddammit, Valentina, I can’t do this. I can’t hear his fucking name.”
“I’m awake,” she whispers, not releasing my shirt.
“Good.” I breathe out a sigh of relief.
“But I can’t promise I won’t wake again.” She looks up. The moonlight catches the specks of yellow in her big brown eyes, “But if you stay, maybe …” She shrugs.
I don’t say a fucking word. I don’t ask permission to climb into her bed. I don’t ask permission to lie down. I don’t ask permission to take her hand and pull her toward me so she can lie down, as well. And she doesn’t ask permission to move closer and lay her head on my chest.
“Goodnight, Franco.”
“Goodnight, Valentina.”
In the morning, I am showered and in my chair outside her apartment door when she opens the door and looks out. When I look up, she walks back in. Neither of us says a word.
When she walks back out twenty minutes later, she hands me a plate. Cherry crostatas.
I look up. “You sure about this?”
“Scusa?” she asks
“You threw them away last time,” I remind her.
“The time before that, you gave them to Dominic,” she counters, putting her nose in the air as she turns sharply on her heels.
I grab her hand, stopping her, and she looks back.
“I ate one. Dominic came in and saw them. He said you and your mother used to make them together on weekends.”
She nods and smiles slightly.
“I offered; told him I already ate, Valentina, because it meant something to him.” I let go of her hand.
Still slightly smiling, she turns and heads back inside.
“Thank you,” I call from behind her as she walks into her apartment, leaving the door open.
“You’re welcome,” she replies.
The door is open now so I see her move around the apartment. She is in that red robe again, and in a softer light, and in a less judgmental mindset, I can admit to myself she is stunning.
I see her look out at me.
“Are you going to eat it, or do you want me to throw it away?” she jokes.
“Try to take it, and you’re in for a fight,” I say, holding it up then taking a bite.
She smiles and walks away.
It’s fucking delicious, just like the last time.
Pacing in front of the door now, because a man can only sit for so long, I see her walking toward the kitchen. Then I hear cupboards opening and shutting, and music begins to play. I see her look back at me, and I look away, hoping she doesn’t see me watching, which is preposterous since I am in fact paid to watch her.
“It’s kind of creepy, you know,” she says.
“What’s creepy?”
“You lurking at my door,” she says from over her shoulder.
“My job is to watch you, Valentina,” I remind her.
“Well, if you aren’t going to be a giant asshole anymore because you feel a little sorry for me now, feel free to come in and make yourself comfortable … like when we were in Rome. You used to watch television and read instead of hiding out.” She looks back. “Until, you know.”
Walking in, I respond, “Before you fucked him?”
She looks back at me, saying nothing. It’s awkward.
I realize my tone may have been venomous, so I try to make it less so. “Before you took off that night and I was worried about you?”
“About me or your job?” she asks.
“You are my job, so both,” I respond, sitting at the kitchen island.
“I see,” she says, stirring the pot in front of her.
I see, as well, I think as my eyes move down her body, from the waist-length black waves of hair to her little waist, her round ass, and past her robe to her bare, olive-colored lean legs.
Fucking beautiful woman.
She looks back then turns around.
“I don’t want him to know,” she says, and I know she means Dominic.
“I want to kill him,” I tell her without thinking.
“Well, you can’t. It’s over, and I never want Dominic to know. Ever, Franco.”
“He has the right to kill him,” I snarl.
She nods. “Dominic is going to be a father.”
I nod. “I know.”
She turns around and shakes her head, hair swaying across her back.
“What?” I ask, pushing back from the counter.
“I like the idea of him being torn apart.”
I walk up next to her and look down. She looks up.
“After all, he did that to me.”
When I slam my fist onto the counter, she jumps. Pain spreads like lightning up my arm.
“Fuck!”
I pull my hand up to see blood beginning to cover my knuckles.
“Franco, what have you done?” She grabs a towel and wraps it around my hand.
“This is his fucking fault! His and …” I stop when I look at her holding my hand to her lips.
She looks up. “I think we need to get this checked out,” she whispers.
“I am going to crush him, Valentina. I am going to rip him apart. I am going to tell that fucker he had no business, no right, no fucking humanity to do that to you.” I follow her as she walks to her room and grabs a pair of leggings, pulling them on. Then she drops her robe and grabs a shirt.
“Let’s go,” she says, grabbing one of her twenty fucking bags.
“I’m fine,” I tell her. “But he won’t fucking be.”
I watch as she looks inside the bag and pulls out a sunglass case as she hurries to the door.
Walking into her apartment hours later, I’m groggy from pain meds.
“You promised,” I remind her.
“I did. I’m not going to leave, okay?” She smiles. “I’m going to take care of you for a change.”
“Do I get to fuck you over the sink in the morning like he did?” slips out of my mouth. Fuck if there is a damn thing I can do about it.
She looks up at me. “You had your chance.”
I don’t know what face I’m making, but it makes her laugh.
“I need to get some shit from my place,” I slur.
Again, she laughs.
“After all that shit today, and you choose to laugh now? Why, Valentina?”
“The truth is freeing.” Her eyebrows knit. “Saying it, all of it out loud, takes the power away from all the secrets. And I know you won’t tell anyone. Hell, tomorrow, you’ll go back to hating me.”
She laughs, but I don’t. I don’t because it’s not true.
“I want to kill him,” I tell her.
“Yes, Franco, you’ve mentioned that. You mentioned it to me, the nurse, and the cab driver.”
“Are you picking on me? Do you think I’m joking, Valentina?” I ask as she shoves my chest so I sit on the edge of her bed.
“Sleep, for God’s sake, Franco.” Her eyes sparkle when she whispers it in Italian. “Dormire.”
“If I listen, what do I get?” I tease, lying back.
“I’ll go find you two women,” she grunts out as she pulls off one of my boots.
“You want me to fuck two women?”
She drops my boots onto the floor then climbs up on the bed where she pulls the hem of my shirt up. “A little help?”
“You want me naked, Valentina, you make me that way,” I tell her, and then I fall asleep.
I wake to the smell of sauce and look down. I am completely and totally naked.
“Jesus Christ, woman,” I mutter then look up when I hear her giggle.
“You challenge me,” she says. “Now it’s dinnertime.”
> I begin to sit up, but she stops me. “I’ll bring it in to you. The doctor said to rest.”
“It’s a broken hand,” I huff. “I can walk.”
“It’s two broken bones and thirty-six stitches. Stay in bed,” she insists.
So, I do.
Two days of pain meds, homecooked meals, sleeping next to someone, and being taken care of sounds like a dream, but it’s not. Honestly, I think she is trying to torture me with kindness before she kills me in my sleep.
Every fucking morning, I wake up naked to find her next to me, and I am hard. There is no way she misses it.
She’s sweet, caring, and grows more beautiful every day.
How cruel is love? She once thought she loved me, and now my heart is tricking me to feel the same way.
Right now, she is eyeballing my cock as she licks her lips, unaware that I am awake.
“If you see something you like, Valentina, I suggest you take it.”
Her eyes spring up to meet mine.
“I see it in your eyes—desire. I know you need to fuck, and I’m not without need.”
She takes a deep breath and looks at my cock again before releasing the breath slowly.
I hold my wrapped hand up. “I’m also of no use to myself. This is my preferred hand.”
“Why now?” she whispers. “Why now is it okay, when all those years, Franco … all those years I needed you and you denied me? Is it pity?”
I sit up and take her hand. “You denied me, as well, Valentina. You didn’t tell me how you felt, and you certainly didn’t show me in a way …” I stop and shake my head. “I understand. But now, now you’re free. Benito is in jail, you have family here that you need to open yourself up to, and your brother and Laney are going to need you to show that child what loyalty and the love of family is.”
She swallows hard, her eyes getting heavier with desire.
“My time with you is nearing an end—”
“Don’t say that,” she says, climbing onto the bed. “Don’t say that.”
“It’s true,” I tell her, unable to reach up and touch her hair, hair that has been laying across my chest night after night. “This line gets crossed, I cannot be your bodyguard.”
“But …”
“Shhh …” I put my fingers over her plump red lips, and she grips my wrist and opens her mouth, taking my finger inside and sucking on it.
“Bellissimo,” I whisper before hooking it in her mouth and pulling her lips to mine. Against them, I whisper, “I want to feel your pussy around my cock. I want to make love to a woman—one—for the first time in my life, who I share secrets and history with.”
“Oh, God,” she whimpers.
“I want to lick you inside and out, taste you, feel your come on my lips, my face, as I inhale what I have wanted but denied myself for years.”
“Franco …” she purrs, nodding as she rubs her lips against mine, as her chest rises and falls quicker and quicker against mine.
“I want your lips around my cock, sucking me, as I fuck the face of a woman I have not only wanted to protect, to save from herself, but needed to.”
“Oh, God,” she moans.
“I smell your need. I want to taste you.” I lick her lips. “You’re going to come in my mouth, and then I’m going to come all over yours.”
She swallows hard. I know she wants it as badly.
“I’m going to fix the need to get fucked brutally and make you need to be shown what a woman truly desires—passion.”
I use my uninjured hand to shove the robe from her shoulders, and then, together, we lift her camisole over her stunning body.
I lie her down and kiss her cheek, then down her sensual throat until I lick across her belly.
She whimpers when I snap the little strings of her thong and lick her hot, bare, swollen, little lips.
“You taste so good.”
I lap at her hot, little pussy, knowing I have denied every other woman I have been with this act, understanding it was one I needed to experience with her first
She tastes like everything good, better than everything good, better than anything I have ever eaten.
I need more.
I slip my tongue just inside her slit. I lick a little harder, then slowly up until I’m almost at her clit, and then down. She gets wetter and much more responsive verbally. One more time up, then I circle her clit and suck it between my lips. She moans and grabs my hair.
“Tell me how it feels, Valentina.”
Before she can respond, I shove my tongue deeper, lapping between her wet lips.
I’ll be damned. It tastes even better the deeper I go.
“So … good!” she yells out as her knees crush against my ears.
Hungry. I am so fucking hungry for her pussy.
I drag her to the bottom of the bed then throw her knees over my shoulders. She sits up and grabs my hair, pushing her hot, wet cunt harder against my face. She is shaking all over, which makes me want to give while taking even more.
She wants control, but for the first time, I can’t let her. I need it.
Her hands still in my hair, I wrap my arms around her legs, supporting her firm, round little ass, and stand. She holds on tightly as I push her back against the wall, fucking her with my tongue, sucking her little nub until she screams out her orgasm and digs her nails into my back. Her body trembles as I continue, until she cries out, “Misericordia, Franco, mercy.”
I slide that hot, drenched pussy down my face, rubbing my stubble against her thighs, as I slowly set her down on the floor.
“Oh, my God,” she pants.
“That was just a taste of what I have in store for you.” I put her on the bed. “You want my cock in your mouth, Valentina?”
“I want to devour it, choke on it.” She grabs it and strokes. “It’s so …”
“Enorme,” I finish for her.
She looks up at me then darts her tongue out, licking from my balls to just beneath my head, and then back down. Over and over, she tastes my skin, and I groan my appreciation.
“You taste good.”
Her words, her kindness, just … her. I am now afraid I’m going to come much sooner than I want.
“Suck my cock, Valentina,” I grit out.
She circles her tongue around the tip then takes me deeper, inch by inch, brown eyes never leaving mine.
My cock in her mouth, her going up and down my length, slow then fast then slow again, I am in heaven. When she sucks, hollowing her cheeks and moaning on the way up, I pull back, not wanting to blow it yet.
“I want inside you.” I push her back while sucking on her breast. Then I rub her drenched, little pussy.
As she pushes against my hand, I slowly ease a finger inside her tight, little cunt.
“So tight,” I say, pushing another finger inside.
She cries out, “Yes!” Her hips begin to meet my hand. “Kiss me. Please kiss me.”
“Fuck yes.” I start at her tits, making my way slowly up to her collarbone, then across her jaw, as I continue working her hard with my fingers. She is softening, stretching, and soaking my hand.
“I can’t wait to be inside here, Valentina, il mi amore.”
“Oh, Franco, please. God, I have wanted you forever.”
“And you’ll have me,” I promise, still fucking her with my fingers. “All of me.”
She nudges my face with her nose. When I look up, she grabs my lip with her teeth. I open, and she rubs her tongue along my lips, hot and sweet. I pull back, and then consume hers, slowly licking her lips and tasting her.
When she reaches down and strokes me, I am shocked.
I was so lost in kissing her that I didn’t want to stop.
I reluctantly pull my mouth from hers, wanting to hear her scream my name when I thrust into her.
Holding my body above hers, I rub my cock against the warmth of her opening and push in slowly.
Her eyes are sealed tight, and her lip is between her teeth.
<
br /> I bend down and kiss her, rolling my hips as I stretch her. She holds tightly to the sides of my head as she whimpers against my mouth.
She winces a bit when I thrust harder, and I pull back, but not too far. Then I reach between us and feel for that little ball of nerves. Slowly, lightly I rub it.
She pushes against me, and I thrust again. It’s so fucking hot.
As she moans, I whisper, “Roll over.”
Now she is on top of me, and I am so deep inside her. It’s fucking amazing. Watching her rub on me and move up and down with her eyes closed is beautiful.
She raises herself and lowers herself, swaying and squeezing the life out of me. Her hand leaves me and travels up her body. Hot as hell. I push into her, and she bites her lip as she opens her eyes.
“Don’t close your eyes, Valentina. Don’t do that to me.”
Gripping her hip, I thrust in and out of her, faster, harder, as she fights to keep her eyes open, giving me what I asked for.
Her pussy clenches as she hisses and whimpers, leaning down, chest to chest with me as she comes hard, so fucking hard I feel her hot juices coat me.
Moments later, I come hard, too. So hard I’m not sure I will ever be able to come again, and that would be just fine.
Kissing her head, her cheek as we pant against each other, I whisper, “You’re beautiful, Valentina, every part of you.”
Capitolo Tredici
I lie in bed, waking to total darkness. I smell her, her and me, and I want more.
You’ll kill her, my thoughts scold. We did just spend the entire day fucking, tasting, sucking.
For the first time in my life, I feel loved by a woman, in her touch. I feel empowered, like I am enough.
After the third time I made her come, I told her I would never need another, which caused tears to spill from her eyes as she kissed me.
“Promise me.”
“I promise you, Valentina.”
I feel love in the way she fed me, cleaned my wound, made sure I took my pain pill so when I was rested, and she was rested, I could make love to her again.
I never want this to end.
Ever.
I get out of bed, still naked and harder than before. I walk out into the open apartment and see my sister’s journal open on the counter. My instinct is to be angry at her for snooping, but I think for a second about how freeing the truth is and want to give her that, too.
