Page 36 of Unbroken Promises

The room is muted, soft tones of cream and gray, in a delicate balance of masculine and feminine accents. Everything about this place is unfamiliar and yet it feels so welcoming, like coming home after being lost for so long. Confusion fills me as I try to process where I am, how I got here. And then it hits me like abrick, the events of last night. The bloody note, Theo, the club. My cheeks flush with embarrassment at the thought of how I let myself give in to his sensual touch, the rhythm of his hips as they ground into me, moving in time to the music.

As I am reliving those libidinous moments, I flush with arousal at the memories, the whole of me feeling suddenly overheated. Slowly, I run a hand down my body, pausing for a brief moment at the surprise of finding that my pants have been removed. I slide my hand slowly inward, until my fingers reach the thin barrier blocking my core. With practiced movements, I push aside the soft cotton, until the tips of my fingers reach my center. Brushing gently past the folds, I make quick work of sliding my fingers inside. And while it is not surprising given the circumstances, I am slightly resentful of how quickly he can make me wet. Even when he isn’t here; even when he has no idea what he is doing to me.

Fingers slick with my own arousal, I slowly drag them higher, focusing on my clit. Soft, slow circles around my swollen nub bring that flush of heated desire from my core and I feel my face warm as my body begins to burn with need. Giving in fully to the moment, to the serenity of my surroundings and the peace that I have not felt in so long, I bring my other hand up, tweaking my nipple through the thin cotton of the shirt that Theo must have helped me change into, though I was apparently too exhausted to remember it.

Friction from the material against my sensitive skin chafes in the most satisfying way and I moan softly, unable to hold it in. My body becomes electrified as sensations overwhelm me. My fingers begin moving more firmly, the strokes and circles becoming more focused as I increase in speed. With my free hand, I switch to my other nipple.

Giving it the attention it has sorely been lacking, with nimble movements I take my time as I pinch at the tight bud before firmly twisting. I don’t stop until I am met with the sweet and bitter relief of where the pain and pleasure collide and pool in my core, and I can’t help the gasp that escapes my lips as my body begins to coil in tension. “Ah! Theo!” The words are a breathy moan, but I couldn’t stop them even if I tried.

I explode around my fingers, and as I fight to catch my breath, I become aware of another figure in the room.

“È stata la cosa più bella che abbia mai visto, amore mio.” There is a fire blazing in his eyes, belying the casual way he leans against the far wall, watching me. And in that moment, with his ravenous gaze upon me, I am taken back to another night of passion, another blissful moment suspended in time.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Danica

Seven Years Earlier

-Late March-

The sweet kisses leave a burning trail as he makes his way down my neck, nipping softly then licking away the pain. His hands are everywhere, cradling my face, tangled in my hair, wandering over my arms and across to my stomach. With sure movements, he is grabbing the hem, lifting it up and over my head in one swift motion. Standing in nothing but my matching lace bra and underwear set, goosebumps cover my skin and I shiver, feverish from the heat of his gaze.

I watch him take a step back, eyes darkening with a ravenous hunger that can’t be hidden as they roam over my body. And for the first time, I feel no shame, no embarrassment at his blatant perusal. All I can feel is a burning flame in my core, one that will devour me whole before the night is over. This isn’t the first time that Theo and I have slept together, but after everything that happened with Bradley and my father, I was too injured to really explore Theo’s lean muscled body the way I have ached to.

But today is different. Dante stopped by earlier with his personal physician, the one who had arranged for my home care while I was recovering from the latest round of injuries that I had incurred from the fallout of my psychotic father’s scheming. And I was finally given the “all clear” to resume normal activities. Logically, I know that he was referring to my gymnastics training, not having sex with my smokinghot boyfriend. But hey, what can I say? This girl has been left hot and needy with all his hooded glances, the teasing touches and not-so-subtle innuendo for weeks, until it has built into a blazing inferno of need that only he can quench. I need him in a way I have never needed anything before.

So, I watch my hoodie guy as he takes me in, and I do the same; eyes roaming over his toned muscles and firm thighs, honed from countless hours of practice both on and off the ice. Under my perusal, I see him, watch how his cock grows harder under the weight of my attention. With a lick, I can’t help but bite my lower lip, struggling to stay still, waiting. He palms his dick over his briefs, but makes no further move towards me.

Tentatively, I take a step forward, then another, until I am standing directly in front of him. He moves to grab me, pulling me close for a heated kiss, but I stop him, placing both hands against his chest to create a small barrier. And just like I know he would, he stops immediately, always cognizant of my shifting moods and my needs in the moment. He pauses but doesn’t loosen his hold on me, eyes questioning.

Without saying a word, I slowly slide my hands down his chest, over his chiseled abs, exploring with the faintest of touches before I kneel before him. Looking up at him, riotous curls framing my face as my cheeks burn with embarrassment and need, I see his eyes widen in shock. For all the playful touches and tender explorations that we have had while I have healed, I have never kneeled before him. And he has never asked that of me. Too many painful memories have clouded my past, and just the thought of taking a dick in my mouth easily sends me into a tailspin of panic with thoughts of Bradley and all the damage he caused (both physical and emotional).

No, Theo has never and would never ask this of me. He knows my past. In all the weeks that I have stayed here in his room, at his mother’s house, he has spent hours holding me while I cried. Sometimes I would talk about the experiences I have endured, other times I would fight back the panic left behind from torturous nightmares where my past and present blurred in horrific reality that would trap my mind until Theo’s sweet, soothing tones would calm my racing heart.

But now, in this moment with him, with Bradley dead and my father gone. . .with nothing physical blocking my path, I am ready to put my past in the past where it belongs, or at leasttry.So, I kneel before the man I love, hands trailing down his abs, running softly over the bulge that is straining against his briefs, before grazing over his strong, muscular thighs, my eyes connected with his the whole time. Theo swallows, and I watch the bob of his Adams apple as he tries to catch his breath.

“You- you don’t have to do this, Danica.” Danica. Not Diavoletta, not il mio passerotto. My blood heats and I feel my desire soak into my panties.

Slowly, making sure he can see every word, every gesture, I lick my lips, and I know my eyes are a window to the blazing inferno that has buried itself in my core as I nod slowly. “I know. I want to. . .”

I move my hands assuredly in a path back up his thighs, running them more firmly over his bulge before moving up to the waistline, trailing my fingertips teasingly along the elastic before slowly lowering the briefs down past his cock, letting them fall to the floor. Unable to stop myself, a soft “oh” escapes as I take him in. His cock, which had been chafing so painfully, wanting to be let out to play, now stands firm before me in all its glory. Thick and veiny, straining up against his stomach, and a bead of precum leaks out from the tip.

Tucking my curls behind my ears, trying to get my hair out of my face, I lean forward and lick a slow path from the base up to the tip, savoring the taste of him as the precum slides onto my tongue. I pull back slightly, looking up at him once more, hesitant as a wave of uncertainty fights to claim my confidence.

“Just-” My voice breaks, so I clear my throat, trying once more. “Just, be gentle, okay? Please don’t pull my hair.”

Theo’s eyes, which had been dark with desire mere seconds ago, now cloud over with rage at the implication of why I would need to even make such a request. Before he can lose himself to the rage, I open my mouth wide, and slowly take the head of his penis into my mouth. This was exactly the right distraction, as he sucks in a breath at the shock of my mouth being on his cock. My movements are slow, tentative at first, as I fight back the memories that want to overwhelm me.

Breathing through my nose, I slowly swirl my tongue around his head, adjusting to the feel and taste of him. He is so big that even just the head feels like an intrusion.

“You like that baby? You want to fucking taste my cock?” My eyes close at his words, and my movements become more confident as I open further, taking more of him in an inch at a time.

“That’s it, la mia diavoletta. That’s my fucking girl. Look at you, so beautiful, taking me in.” A strained groan filters out and I feel his body shake as he clenches his fists at his side, fighting off the urge to grab onto me.

Saliva pools in my mouth, and I fight back the urge to swallow, but freeze in shock as he slips deeper, hitting my throat with his thick cock. Panicwells up in me and I start to pull back, losing myself to painful memories until Theo’s words of reassurance break through.

“Eyes on me, la mia diavoletta.” I am frozen, Theo still thick in my mouth, when I feel his hand reach out, lifting my chin slightly.

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