by Skyla Madi
I blink and think about it. I don’t feel tired or sluggish. To be honest, I’m ready to start my day.
“Not really.”
“I really don’t want to walk around this yard again, Cammie.” He rubs at his eyes. “I’m tired.”
“Okay, well…” I peer sideways at Stefan. “How good are you at giving massages?”
He laughs once. “I’m not going to massage you.”
“Why not?”
He looks at me, amused. “You wouldn’t invite a recovering alcoholic to a kegger, would you?”
“Maybe.” I shrug. “I don’t know what a kegger is.”
“I’m not massaging you.”
I smirk. “So I’ll keep walking.”
He plants his ass on the steps as I continue to walk. He lets me walk around the yard for another thirty minutes before he gives up and pushes himself to his feet. “Fine. If it will put you to sleep, I’ll give you a damn massage.” He points a finger at me, at my white tee and black shorts. “But you’re keeping your clothes on.”
Why is he adamant that I keep my clothes on? Do I make him that weak? Would my naked body make him lose control? Desire swells between my thighs. Surprisingly, I’m eager to know.
“I’ll keep my pants on,” I counter. “And I’ll lay face down so you can only see my back, deal?”
He ponders the thought. “Deal.”
Turning on the step, Stefan saunters across the stone porch and I follow him. Once inside, he locks the door, kicks his shoes off, and removes his socks.
“My room or yours?” he asks, scratching at his beautiful, well-defined chest.
I open my mouth to answer, but my dry mouth catches my words, like flies to hot wax. Awkwardly, I avert my gaze and clear my throat. “Mine.”
He brushes past me and I’m caught in his slipstream. It pulls me all the way to my room, where he flicks on the light and gestures to the bed. Without a word, he enters the bathroom while I pull off my white tee and toss it to the floor. I quickly climb onto the mattress and lay down, resting my hands under my burning cheek.
I close my eyes as he enters the bedroom, closing the bathroom door behind him with a soft click. My heart thrashes wildly in my chest as he closes in on me and my half naked body. I’m not the self-conscious type when it comes to the look of my body, not really…but right now? I begin creating a list in my head of all the things he might hate. Like the large freckle at the bottom of my shoulder blade. What if my back doesn’t curve enough for his liking? Are my ribs showing? Oh, shit. It has been several days since I last shaved my armpits—since I last shaved anything.
Freezing lotion hits my back and I open my eyes as I’m forced from my thoughts with a terrifying jolt, earning a soft chuckle from Stefan.
“Sorry,” he utters, smoothing his hand down my spine.
The mattress decompresses as he kneels on the bed, but it doesn’t last long. He moves over my body, straddling my backside, holding me in place beneath him. I can see him out of the corner of my eyes, hovering over me, and it’s intimidating. Because of it, I close my eyes and desperately try to think about anything but him…
But then his large, warm hands melt to me…
And he’s good.
Much better than I was expecting. As he touches me, I can’t help but wonder why he cares so much. Why does he let me demand things from him? Why does he help? My thoughts take me back to the morning he left painkillers on the bench next to a glass of water and a brewed pot of coffee. Why did he do that?
“Stefan?” I mutter, licking my dry lower lip.
“Mm?”
“Why are you so nice to me?”
“Would you rather I not be?”
I shake my head. “I just…I thought you’d be as cruel as him.”
“I’d never treat you the way he does.” He utters.
I open my eyes and Stefan keeps on rubbing and massaging, working out all of my kinks as if it’s his profession. I don’t know what to say to his response. It’s certainly not what I was expecting. With every stroke, every squeeze, I grow less tired and more…turned on. I can’t remember the last time I felt this wound up. Every cell in my body is trembling with anticipation. I wonder if I’m affecting him like he is affecting me. Is touching my body doing for him what his hands are doing for me?
Sliding his hands north, Stefan leans forward, brushing his lips against the shell of my ear, making me shiver. “Good night.”
Wait. What? I open my eyes. Good night?
Stefan stops touching me. He departs the bed, shuts of my light, and exits my room, leaving me by myself, more turned on than I have ever been. He must have massaged me for well over an hour, because early morning light now filters in through the gaps in the drapes. How am I supposed to sleep? I can’t. It’s not possible.
Exhaling, I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling. I’m sick and tired of lying awake, staring at this damn ceiling. Stefan and I have been back and forth for a month now. A whole month. I’ve almost had him countless times, but he always pulls back at the last moment, like he’s afraid of getting attached, and it terrifies me.
I don’t think Moretti plans to have me around for long at all.
He’s going to make Stefan hurt me. I just know it.
I inhale through my nose and fly off the bed. Without thought, I pull open the bedroom door and storm down the hall. Stefan is my only hope for survival. He’s the only ammo I have against Moretti—against the Russos too. I think Stefan Valentino is powerful enough to take both families on. He’s clever and calculating. He could free Sydney from the hands of these greedy monsters if only he forgot about money and did what was right.
I throw open Stefan’s door and he curses, throwing off his blanket as I climb onto his bed. His room is darker than mine, the blockout curtains doing their job to keep out the encroaching light.
“Cammie,” he bites out with a pleading tone as he presses his back against the head board. “Give me a break.”
I straddle him, settling myself low on his slim hips. A groan rumbles low and deadly in his chest, igniting my blood. My breath rushes out of me with a gasp when I feel him underneath me. Holy hell. He’s incredibly hard. I glide my hands up his chest, his neck, and then push my fingers into his hair as I bring my mouth to his. I want to kiss him. I have to kiss him.
“I promised Moretti I wouldn’t,” he mutters, placing his hands on my thighs.
“I won’t tell if you won’t.”
“You don’t understand.” He licks his lips. “This is a bad idea.”
I lean against him, resting my bare breasts against his chest. “Don’t you want me?”
Stefan nods softly, but the nod turns into a doubtful shake as I glide my hand down his forearm, taking his hand in mine.
“I’m so wet for you.” I kiss his lower lip. “And I want you to feel it.”
Sitting back, I guide his hand to my chest. He curses in Italian as I drag his large hand between my breasts and down my flat tummy. I catch my bottom lip between my teeth, toying with the hem on my shorts before pushing his hand into my pants. I gasp as Stefan’s middle finger slips between my creases and he groans, harshly squeezing my thigh with his free hand. His fingers feel rough against the softest parts of me, causing overwhelming friction.
Stefan slides his hand from my thigh to my hip and slowly massages his finger up and down my slit, subtly flexing his hips against me. Parting my mouth with a heavy exhale, I close my eyes as he glides his other hand up my stomach, stopping short of the underside of my right breast. His long, thick fingers twitch in hesitation.
“You can touch them,” I murmur, rolling my hips. “Please touch them.”
I squeak as Stefan snaps his hands from my body and forces them through my hair. With a powerful flick of his hips, he throws me off of him, only to pin me flat on my back, his hard clothed length flush against my pulsing core.
Separated only by thin fabric.
Completely at his mercy.
Fire burns through my belly, hotter than it ever has before.
“Being with me changes everything,” he says, his voice coarse.
Opening my eyes, I nod, and although I can only see his dark shadow, I know he’s searching my face for any kind of doubt.
I don’t know what’s going to happen to me. I don’t know if I’m ever going to be able to practice medicine again. Hell, I don’t even know if I’m going to make it to next year. What I do know is…there’s a nervous twist in my stomach, electricity zaps along the surface of my skin, and there’s a man—who isn’t Christiano—between my legs. What’s the point of thinking about the past or the future when what you truly want is staring you in the face?
I can’t believe how badly I want him to take me. I want him to play with my body, to toy with me until I’m nothing but a trembling mess in his hands. He’s capable of it. I just know it.
He has an overwhelming presence, this Stefan Valentino. He has the power to make me forget everything but him. I’ve lasted this long because he makes me feel safe. When was the last time I’ve felt so safe? I can’t remember.
He cranes his neck so his lips brush mine. We linger in stalemate for God knows how long before Stefan flicks his tongue against my lower lip and my breath hitches. His hands leave my hair and move to my breasts. He caresses them gently, his hot breath heavy on my face. I inhale it and become intoxicated by it, as if it’s laced with hallucinogens. Our noses touch and our foreheads rest together. We’re strangers, but the atmosphere is incredibly intimate…as if we’re long term lovers with eyes only for each other.
Not that I know what that feels like.
Stefan gauges me, waiting for my permission to completely ravish me. I try to slow my breathing, to keep some kind of mystery to what I’m feeling deep down, but the longer he keeps me trapped in his unseen gaze, the more erratic I become. I’m obvious, like a yellow umbrella at a funeral.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” he warns and I nod.
“Put your hands on me.”
That’s all it takes for Stefan’s resolve to melt away. He crushes me underneath his body, squeezing at my breasts with his large hands as he plunges his tongue inside my mouth. Stefan’s kiss sucks the air from my lungs and the sense from my head. Sighing, I slide my hands over his broad shoulders and wrap my arms around his neck, urging him harder against me.
He pulls away with a rumble in his chest.
“Do you know how long I’ve wanted you?” My breath hitches as he kisses my neck. “From the moment I first saw you. You were wearing that flowy, cream skirt and a black blouse with the thin straps.”
I remember that day. I had to go to the pathology lab in North Sydney. It was a sweltering afternoon. I wore cute, open-toed shoes and carried my favourite Michael Kors bag.
“You weren’t wearing anything underneath.” I become hyper aware of his fingers as he drags them along the hem of my shorts. “No bra. No panties.”
“Because I knew you were watching.”
He kisses my chest.
My breasts.
My stomach.
The inside of my thighs.
“I wanted you to know I was watching.” Breathing heavy against my flesh, he curls his fingers around the hem of my shorts. “I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.”
He moves back and I lift my hips as he gently eases my shorts off, pushing them down my legs. My heart races and I close my eyes. Stefan glides his hand up my calf, hooking my knee on his shoulder before smoothing his palm along my outer thigh to hold my hip.
“You wore the sexiest red dress once.” He kisses my abdomen. “You bent over to fix your shoe and the wind blew. It was a gentle breeze, but it was enough to expose your bare pussy to me.”
Heat seeps up my neck and pools in my cheeks. It’s one thing to imagine these things in the privacy of my own mind, but another thing entirely to hear them aloud.
“Stefan…”
He tugs me down the bed a little more and I swallow hard as he pushes my thighs further apart and opens me up. “I imagined spreading you wide on the hood of your car just so I could…”
He licks me up and down slowly, dragging his firm tongue across my entrance and over my clit. My breath hitches loudly and I arch my back. Stefan groans and stops, making me shudder with unresolved pleasure.
“Dio, meglio di quanto immaginassi.”
God, you taste better than I imagined.
Moaning, I push myself onto my elbows to watch as he licks and sucks me again. Violently, this time. Relentlessly…as if he’s a king and I’m his meal.
“Ohh!” My back arches. I clench my hands into fists.
I straighten my elbows and fall back against the mattress, rotating my hips. Releasing my thigh, Stefan moves a finger to my entrance and I find my entire body clenching. To be honest, I’m not a fan of having fingers inside me. The stabbing in and out motion does nothing for me. I don’t think it does anything for any girl.
He flickers the very tip of his long, thick index finger around my pussy. Touching everything, learning every crease, every nook, before he adds another finger and gently pushes inside. He doesn’t thrust his fingers like I was expecting. Instead, he curls them, lightly brushing my g-spot, avoiding the uncomfortable and vigorous motions I’m used to.
Stefan doesn’t touch me with uncontrolled excitement. His movements are calculated, done only with the intent to please me. He knows exactly what to touch to get the response he wants from my body. He has full control of me and it’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.
Stefan lifts his mouth off of me, but the pressure continues to build with every stroke of his fingers.
“If Christiano knew what you’re letting me do to you…” He chuckles and it’s dark.
“He’d kill you.” I sigh, pushing my fingers through his hair. “He’d kill me.”
I gasp as Stefan pushes hard against my sweet spot. I squeeze his hair between my fingers.
“Tell me he’s never made you this wet.” He licks me once, making my legs tremble. “You’re soaking my damn sheets.”
“Never,” I tell him, my voice a breathless pant. “He’s never made me feel this good.”
Taking his fingers out of me, Stefan’s body tightens. He moves his mouth from my warm, wet pussy to my inner thigh, where he kisses me tenderly across my healing cut and up onto my hip.
He kisses my stomach.
My breasts.
My neck…until he’s settled between my thighs, his face an inch from mine once more.
“He’s never made you feel this good?”
His tone is gruff and unreadable. I slow my breathing and stay silent. Have I offended him? Does he think I’m lying? “My pleasure wasn’t a priority to him.”
He tilts his head on the slightest angle and I wish I could see his face properly. Stefan caresses my breast and I arch my back, pressing it into his hand.
I have to admit, it’s not all Christiano’s fault. I was popping pills every few hours and they really messed with my arousal as a result. I couldn’t feel pleasure, even if I wanted to. I think Christiano gave up trying.
“Your pleasure is a priority to me.” Stefan pushes his pants down and snakes his hand between us, pushing the rough pads of his fingertips between us.
They slip into place against my clit and it feels amazing, but that’s not what has me quivering. No. It’s the feel of the head of his thick, bare cock at my entrance.
It sobers me and I tense up. Am I…am I cheating on Christiano? Is that what I’m doing? A dark, nasty feeling wrenches my chest. Feeling my tension, Stefan strokes my clit and rests his damp forehead against mime.
“We don’t have to do anything,” he says, circling my tiny bundle of nerves. “Not if you don’t want to.”
Shaking the apprehension away, I swallow hard, rolling my hips against him, against the head of his cock, working the very tip inside of me.
“I want to.” Oh, Jesus Christ. I’m a few short strokes a
way from coming all over him. “I want to be with you.”
Groaning low and deep in his chest, he pushes his cock deeper. My heart stutters and his hands clench as I struggle to take all of him. My lips part and he cranes his neck, dipping his tongue inside with a shaky exhale. He’s bare, no protection, and it feels incredible.
Wrong.
Dangerous…but incredible.
“I won’t come in you,” he assures me, kissing my lower lip. “I just want to feel you.”
I nod and he devours me with a greedy kiss, weaving his strong, thick arms around me. He groans my name and it sounds different coming from him than it ever has coming from Christiano.
Little by little, inch by inch, with every thrust of his hips, I lose control of myself. Soon, Christiano is a distant memory. I’m consumed only by selfish thoughts of taking whatever I want from Stefan’s body and only Stefan’s body. I break the kiss.
“I want to stay here,” I tell him, our foreheads sliding together. “I want to stay here with you.”
I drag my hands down his sides, touching hard ropes of muscle, and grab him low on the hips, my fingers spreading onto the curve of his ass.
“So stay.” He licks my lip. “With me.”
Our heated gasps clash. My nerves are frazzled as my body hits overdrive. I’ve never felt like this. My mind, body, and soul have never been so in tune. My heart pounds against his, their rapid beats mimicking each other. Every thrust takes me higher and higher, making it that tiny bit harder to breathe. When I think I’ve reached the height of it, he thrusts again, massaging me from the inside, pushing me further and further.
“Cammie…” he gasps. His lips hover over mine, his breath hot against my skin.
He fucks me hard. So hard oxygen can’t settle in my lungs for longer than a second. So hard my womb tightens itself in anticipation, waiting for his orgasm to spill through me as he thrusts between my thighs.
My breasts bounce back and forth and he watches, mesmerised by the sight of them.
“Such perfect tits,” he utters under his breath before catching one in his large hand and craning his neck to suck it into his mouth.
