Page 32 of Unspoken Ties

“We can,” I blurted out. The response was definitely not as sexy as Ettore’s words.

He swooped down, capturing my lips with his in a searing kiss. Every nerve ending in my body ignited as I melted into him, my fingers reaching up to grip the front of his shirt. After a moment that seemed simultaneously endless and much too short, he pulled away just enough to whisper, “Shall we, then?” His eyes, heavy with desire, bore into mine.

At a loss for words, I nodded. He extended his hand and I took it, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest as he led me to our shared bathroom.

As Ettore began to undress, my throat went dry; I had never seen a naked man before. My father had also monitored my internet presence, so I never looked at porn. The only time I had seen male anatomy was in biology textbooks.

My eyes were glued to his every movement, the way his muscles flexed as he slipped his shirt over his head, the way he unbuttoned his jeans with an ease that was both daunting and exciting. Every inch that he revealed sent my heart fluttering in my chest.

Ettore was a work of art, a masterpiece of masculine beauty. His body was a canvas of muscle and smooth skin, dusted with dark hair that trailed down his torso and disappeared beneath the waistband of his underwear. He met my gaze, a slight smile playing on his lips as he took in my wide-eyed fascination. I blushed fiercely under his knowing gaze, but I found myself unable to break eye contact with him.

He hooked his thumbs into the elastic and pushed them to the floor. I could feel the heat rise to my cheeks at the sight of him. The moment was both terrifying and thrilling, an odd mix of vulnerability and curiosity. His gaze never left mine as I took him in, his confident stare daring me to let my eyes wander. And wander they did.

It looked very different from the anatomy textbooks. His dick was hard, with prominent veins, and as I stared at it, a bead of fluid leaked out from the tip.

“Why don’t you undress?” He suggested gently, running his thumb along my forearm.

Getting over my initial shock, I removed my own clothes, my heart pounding in my chest with every layer I shed under Ettore’s watchful gaze. I had never felt more exposed, not even on the night we had spent on the rooftop underneath the vast expanse of the starry sky. As I undid the buttons on my shirt, trying not to fumble with the nerves tingling in my fingertips, Ettore moved closer, offering silent support and wordless encouragement.

He helped me slip out of my shorts, his fingers sliding against my skin fleetingly, causing shivers to roll down my spine. I looked up to see a soft look in his eyes, a tender concern mixed with a heated desire that was mirrored in my own heart.

I could barely offer him a nervous smile before his hands were at my sides, guiding me towards the shower. He turned on the shower and hot water cascaded from the showerhead, filling theroom with a misty warmth and causing droplets to form on his bare skin.

Ettore stepped into the stream of water first, his broad shoulders shielding me from the initial impact. The sight of him under the water, his muscles glistening and his dark hair matting against his forehead, took my breath away. Swallowing my apprehension, I stepped onto the tiled floor of the shower.

He lathered up a washcloth with soap, eyes never leaving mine. The slick soap left a cool trail on his chest as he lathered it with careful precision, the droplets of water merging with the white foam. When he held out the washcloth towards me, I hesitated. A hundred thoughts spiraled in my head, most prominent being the fear that I would somehow disappoint him.

I glanced at the washcloth, then hesitantly extended my hand to take it. Ettore’s fingers brushed against mine as I wrapped my hand around the cloth, my pulse thundering in my ears as he continued to watch me. The warmth of his skin seared into mine; it was more intimate than anything we had ever shared before.

I wet the washcloth under the shower stream before bringing it to my chest. The sensation was startling, the hot water contrasting with the cool soap. I watched Ettore through my lashes as I ran the washcloth over my body. He was watching me intently, his gaze leaving a trail of heat wherever it landed.

He reached out suddenly, his fingers closing around mine to halt my movements. For a moment, we stood frozen in place, our hands clutched together above my beating heart. Then, slowly, Ettore grabbed the washcloth from my hand. He lathered the washcloth over my stomach, down across my hips and thighs.

His touch was gentle, exploratory, as if he was mapping my body with the washcloth. His every movement was slow, purposeful, matching the steady rhythm of water cascading down upon us. I could feel every plane and contour of his hand through the cloth, creating a delicious friction against my skin.When he brushed past the sensitive skin on my inner thighs, I sucked in a sharp breath, my heart pounding against my ribcage.

Slowly, Ettore withdrew his hand, his gaze never leaving mine. There was a heat in his eyes that sent a thrill through my body and made me both nervous and excited. He let the washcloth drop to the floor of the shower, the sound of it smacking against the tile loud in the silence between us.

For what felt like eternity, we stood still under the warm cascade of water. I watched as droplets ran down his chest and abdomen, the water giving his skin an alluring sheen. His stare held a tenderness that made my heart ache, yet there was an intensity that set my nerves alight with anticipation.

Ettore ran his hand along where the washcloth had been moments before. I let out a gasp as his bare fingers ghosted over my throbbing core that was begging for his attention. His thumb lightly stroked my clit, sending a bolt of pleasure shooting through me. I bit down hard on my lip, trying to prevent any more noises from escaping, but the sensations were becoming too intense.

Ettore’s other hand cradled the back of my head, pulling me closer. Our bodies pressed flush against each other, the heat between us nearly scorching. My hands instinctively found their way around his neck, fingers grazing the damp hair at his nape. His lips found mine in a tender kiss that was as comforting as it was arousing.

His thumb continued its leisurely circles over my clit while his fingers dipped inside me. I gasped into his mouth as I felt him inside of me, our bodies slick with water and soap, and we moved together instinctively. My body responded to his, trembling with need and desire.

Hearing my response, Ettore moved his fingers with more urgency. My breaths came in ragged gasps as I clung onto him, my body desperately seeking the release I so craved.

“Ettore,” I whimpered, my voice barely audible over the constant rush of water. His name was a plea, a prayer, and even as the words left my lips, my body convulsed with pleasure.

My knees buckled under me, but Ettore held me firmly against him. His fingers continued their rhythmical dance inside me, prolonging the waves of pleasure that rippled through my body. His lips never left mine, capturing each gasp and moan that threatened to spill from them.

The world seemed to spin around us as I succumbed to the pleasurable onslaught. Everything outside our little bubble ceased to exist, and all that mattered was the sensation of Ettore’s body against mine, his fingers deep inside me and his lips devouring mine with an insatiable hunger.

Slowly, he withdrew his fingers from me, leaving a feeling of emptiness that was instantly replaced by the warm press of his body. His hard length slid against my lower abdomen, and I could feel the throbbing heat of him. My heart pounded in anticipation as he placed one hand on my hip, guiding himself closer.

My heart rate increased, and I wasn’t sure if it was from the high of my orgasm or this foreign feeling of having a man naked against me. As his dick made his way closer to my center, I couldn’t help but tense up with nerves. I was about to have that inside of me, and it was giant.

Ettore’s gaze darted up to meet mine when my body tensed up. He must have seen too much hesitation, because he put his hands on my hips and pressed away from me. I wanted to scream no, that wasn’t what I wanted, but I was too nervous to form words.

---