Page 82 of His Passerotta

Day-old stubble tickles my hand when I touch his face, molding it to the firm divot between his jaw and cheekbone. Every part of him feels so hard, but his warmth wraps me in the softest embrace.

All the tears I’ve shed and the crippling fear I’ve felt over the last twenty-four hours melts away, and again, I feel safe in Anthony’s arms.

He bends to scoop me off my feet and doesn’t stop kissing me as he carries me to his bedroom. As soon as he lays me on the bed, we both hurry taking our clothes off, me ripping the shirt off my head and Anthony frantically tugging at buttons.

My eyes take in his chiseled chest as his white shirt slips away, falling to the floor in a heap with my own. Out of all the times I’ve imagined him shirtless, it still hits me just how handsome he is underneath his suits.

He climbs on top of me, his hands slipping behind my back to work the clasp on my bra while his lips find mine. Heavy breaths pass between us, heating my face while making my heart pump faster. I can feel his desire. Smell it. Taste it on my tongue, and it sends a delicious shiver down my spine.

My breasts spill from my bra when the clasp snaps free, and Anthony pulls it away to throw it on the floor with the other articles of clothing.

He moves on to my jeans next, kissing a path down the well of my breasts to my stomach. My hips lift for him to tug my pants down my legs, leaving me in only a black, lacy thong I chose because it was at the top of my drawer. Or maybe that isn’t why. Maybe I’d hoped this would happen.

What am I thinking? Of course I hoped it would. Of course I hoped he would forgive me, take me into his open arms to make everything in this rotten fucking world okay, just for a little while. I just couldn’t hold on to that hope too tightly because it would’ve made the rejection that much worse. It would’ve broken me.

Now, I’m fixed.

Long fingers glide along my hips, tucking beneath my panties. I’m snapped back to the moment, and I suck in a gasp when he pulls the thong down my legs, his once frantic pace suddenly patient.

My thighs part when he pulls them open with his hands cupping my knees, leaving me feeling the most intimate kind of vulnerable. My neck tingles and skin heats as he takes me in, lowering to his forearms.

His eyes close as his lips press to my inner thigh, working their way up until he’s reached a part of me that has my head falling back on the pillow.

His tongue runs up my slit, pausing to press firmly on my bundle of nerves that hold all the tension in my body. Every sensation seems to originate from there. It spreads warmth to my skin, curls my toes, hardens my nipples, and arches my back.

When Anthony’s tongue flicks, I tense, digging my fingers in the mattress to grip the comforter. He licks and sucks and kisses for a few agonizing minutes before both of us grow impatient and he drags himself up my body.

He kisses me, putting a hint of my own taste on my tongue. I almost pull away, but he presses into me firmly, and I relent, wrapping my hands around his neck.

Anthony shrugs out of his pants and boxers and lines up at my entrance, kissing me slowly with one hand cupping my face while the other props him up. I gasp as he thrusts into me, breaking our kiss as my head falls back.

His lips nudge my ear as my walls expand, making room for him.

“I love you too,” he whispers.

My heart tugs like it’s going to be yanked from my chest, and I relax into the mattress, feeling heavier than I ever have. As corny as it sounds, I feel whole.

He rocks his hips, pushing his cock farther inside me with each thrust until his full length fills me. His warm breath hits my ear, and I close my eyes and listen to it like it’s my favorite song.

His pace picks up as his breathing does, and I wrap my legs around him when he gives a hard thrust.

“Fuck, Anthony,” I whimper, moving my hips to match his rhythm.

He must take that as encouragement because his pace increases even more until he has to lift to use both hands to brace himself. His eyes open, locking onto mine, and I see more lust than I have in my life, but there’s more there too. There’s a longing I’ve never seen, and I get the sudden sensation that I’ve been missing out all these years.

But then again, I haven’t been. No other man could make me feel this way. I would’ve been waiting for Anthony even if I’d bothered to look.

A deep moan crawls up my throat when he slips his hand between my legs to rub me, sending a wave of ecstasy through my core. I wind tighter the faster he rubs until my nails are digging into his shoulders and my chest is pushing out as I come undone.

“I love you,” I say with a moan, pulling him closer to me while my orgasm tenses my whole body, only to dip into deep relaxation moments later.

His pace slows while I unwind. It picks back up once my back sinks into the mattress, and I’m too spent to move my hips. His hand tucks beneath me so he can lift my ass and fuck me deeper. Harder. Faster.

His shoulders tense beneath my touch, and he stills. A groan vibrates his chest as he spills his cum inside me, and I close my eyes to the sound.

I try to hold on to this moment, knowing what it could turn to. What it will inevitably turn to. But right now, it’s just us. It’s just perfect.

He rolls off of me and pulls me into his arms while I nuzzle my face against his chest. The smell of him mixes with masculine sweat that’s sexier than his cologne.

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