pleasure, my breathing notching faster and faster along
with his. Both of us were sliding fast, out of control—
He broke the kiss and put his mouth to my ear, his
stubble brushing my cheek as he pushed my head to
the side. “Sei bellissima,” he said. I didn’t know much
Italian, but even I knew that meant you’re beautiful. A
warm glow rippled out from my center, slamming into
the pleasure and making it flare even hotter.
His hand slid up my back, captured my hair, still in a
bun, and pulled it down, his grip firm but not painful. My
chin tilted up to the sky and he kissed down my throat,
each touch of his lips soft and measured but full of
barely-restrained power, like putting your hand on the
hood of a sports car and feeling the throb of the engine.
His whole body was pushed up against me from his
chest to his thighs and I could feel the hard bulk of him
dwarfing me. I grabbed for his upper arms and found
every muscle had gone tense: God, he was having to try
so hard just to hold himself back….
He pushed my head to the side again. When he spoke
into my ear, the low rasp of his voice made me catch
my breath. “I need you,” he said. “I fucking need you. I
have to have you.” Then he drew back and I realized he
was looking at me. I opened my eyes, stared up into
his, and I saw him frowning. “What have you done to
me?” he growled.
I didn’t have an answer. I just stared up at him, my hair
still gripped in his hand.
“You’re making me nuts. I can’t get you out of my
head.” He kissed me again, open-mouthed and hungry,
his tongue dancing with mine for long seconds. Then he
drew back and stared at me again, still frowning...but
the lust was winning, those brown eyes burning with it.
“I can’t stop thinking about what I’m going to do to
you.”
I’d never heard a voice like his before: so heavy and
deep, every word loaded with intent. He said something
and it was going to happen.
He leaned very close, his lips right on my ear, his hot
breath making me tremble. His voice was strained with
lust. “I’m going to throw you down on your bed and
strip every fucking stitch of clothing off you.” His hands
were hard on my waist, holding me like he never
wanted to let go. “Then I’m going to kiss you. All over.
Starting on your mouth and all the way down to here.”
His free hand cupped my groin and my eyes fluttered
closed. The layers of clothing between us were
irrelevant: I could feel his touch throbbing straight
through, his palm against the softness of my folds. My
breath caught in my chest and a rippling, white-hot
ribbon of pleasure snaked up inside me, making me
arch. His hand pressed a little harder and I gasped...and
found myself pushing back against him, the pleasure
pulsing and changing, turning to hot slickness.
I suddenly remembered where we were. My eyes
opened but all I could see was Angelo: he was so big,
he blocked out everything behind him. Behind me was
the tree. I twisted my head to the side and felt my eyes
go wide as I saw the passing cars. “We can’t do this,” I
mumbled. “Not here.”
He frowned, glanced at the traffic and turned back to
me. “Who gives a fuck about them?”
He grabbed my shoulders and spun me around, so fast
and so hard that I would have lost my footing if he
hadn’t been holding me. Then he pushed me face-first
up against the tree. He moved up tight behind me so
that I was sandwiched between him and the trunk
again. The hard wood pressed right against my groin.
He tugged the collar of my coat down a little so that he
could kiss the back of my neck. I felt his hands at my
waist, loosening the belt that held my coat closed and
then diving inside. I heard his gasp of surprise when he
realized I was still in my leotard: I’d just thrown a pair
of jeans and my coat over the top. His hands slid over
my denim-covered hips and then squeezed my ass. I
groaned and pressed my thighs together, excitement
and fear twisting together and merging into something
stronger.
His mouth at my ear again. “You tell me if you want me
to stop.”
One hand started to rise, skimming up over the smooth
Lycra of my leotard and tracing the shape of my
breasts. I’d closed my eyes when he started kissing my
neck, but they came open when I felt his fingertips on
the warm skin just above my collarbone. His hand
pushed down, under the edge of my leotard and its
built-in bra. My breathing quickened. God...he wasn’t
going to—
He was. I gasped, my eyes going wide as he palmed my
breast, a deep, hot throb of pleasure twisting down
through me. I writhed against him, which rubbed my
groin against the hard trunk of the tree and the pleasure
tightened and grew. I thought about telling him to stop:
God...we’re right out on the street!
But at that moment, his other hand brushed a stray lock
of hair from my cheek and stroked me there, calming
me, and then his thumb slid across my lips and it felt so
good…. I gave myself up to it, my eyes closing.
He started to lightly squeeze my breast and my breath
hissed from between my parted lips in time to his
rhythm. Then he began to rub his thumb across my
nipple and the pleasure spiraled in on itself, thrumming
through my body and pooling in my groin. My nipple
stiffened more and more with every touch until it was
achingly hard, each touch of his thumb making me catch
my breath. I realized I was pushing my ass back against
his groin and I could feel the hardness of his cock
outlined through his pants.
I knew that most of what he was doing to me was
hidden by our clothes and his body, but anyone looking
closely would have a pretty good idea what was going
on. It made my cheeks flare red...but it made the
pleasure strum through me faster, as well, everything
drawing inwards, becoming a heated ball of tension that
demanded release. God, if he keeps this up I’m going to
—
His voice in my ear again. “When I’m done kissing down
every inch of your body, I’m going to spread your legs
apart and hold them there. I want to see you. I want to
just kneel there and look at you and tell you how
beautiful you are while you get wetter and wetter. Then
I’m going to put my head between your thighs and I’m
not going to stop until you’re screaming, begging for me
to fuck you.”
His thumb rubbing against my nipple, each pass sending
pleasure arcing downward to swell my approaching
orgasm. His voice painted the lurid scene in my mind: I
could see those brown and amber eyes staring down at
me, feel his tongue on my folds— God, I can’t come,
not right here in public—
His voice, rough and perfect. “Come for me, Irina.”
His finger and thumb pinched lightly at my nipple and
suddenly I was slipping over the edge, writhing between
him and the tree as my climax exploded. His thumb
slipped between my teeth and I bit down on it as wave
after wave of pleasure broke over me. I could feel the
hardness of his cock against my ass, my orgasm turning
him on even more.
Then I was slumping, my legs trembling and weak, and
he had to grab my waist and pull me into his arms to
stop me falling. I can’t believe I just did that, I thought,
huffing ice-cold air into my lungs. But at the same time,
the dark excitement at having done it made me heady.