Page 52 of Replay
Mortification begins to pinprick in my mind. What must Santino think of me? When he knew me before, I was wild and confident. Brave and bold, he said. Letting him comfort me after my first orgasm from just a couple of fingers is anything but bold.
Knowing I need to turn this situation around, I quickly slip off his lap and kneel between his legs. “Payback time,” I say with a smile as I shimmy the hem of my dress back into place. Christ, my knickers are drenched.
“Tilly.” Santino grips my arms to shift my focus from his very strained erection trapped inside his jeans to him. His eyes are hooded on me when he states, “I’m not done with you yet.”
“You are for tonight,” I respond boldly and move to unbutton his jeans. “It’s my turn to call the shots.”
When his erection bobs out of his jeans, I can’t help but stare at it in wonder. I didn’t remember it being this thick. Or this long. Did it grow in five years, or is my memory just that shit? That’s the thing about my substance abuse back then. Everything is fuzzy, and it makes me constantly wonder what was real and what was fake. However, right now, I’m of sound mind and body, and I really want to feel the girth of Santino between my lips.
I wrap my fingers tightly around him, and his audible hiss of pleasure is all the reassurance I need. I tease the tip of his cock with my tongue before pulling him deep into my throat.
“Fuck,” he growls, his hand reaching out to brush my hair off to one side. He wraps it around his fist and holds it back as I release him with an audible pop. “You really don’t have to.”
“I want to,” I reply and then spread my lips around him again.
The noises he makes and the pleasure he’s experiencing as I continue to suck him off are everything I need to feel in control of this situation again. Losing myself like that in front of him when we’ve just barely started whatever it is we’re doing isn’t wise. There’s a reason I haven’t been intimate with a man in five years. Staying in control is an important part of my life now.
I don’t fully understand why I decided to have Santino be the first man I become intimate with after all these years. Maybe because he’s familiar. Maybe because even when my life was total chaos, he was some small form of safety? But he’s not my saviour. I saved myself. And I can’t let him call all the shots as we reconnect or I risk losing that part of myself that I found in my sobriety.
“Tilly,” Santino’s gruff voice calls out as I lose myself in the act. “I’m close.”
I peer up at him as I pump my mouth over his throbbing erection. His neck muscles are taut, and he’s gripping my hair hard at the roots. The tightness is exhilarating. It’s empowering to have a man out of control like this in front of me. So empowering that instead of releasing him and letting him go into a tissue, I suck harder, dragging my teeth along his shaft.
“Oh fuck!” he cries out, curling forward and releasing my hair to splay his hands out on his sofa.
In a few more seconds, his cock pulses between my lips, and a warm, salty liquid hits the back of my throat. He groans as he empties himself inside me, his hands moving to my shoulders as he jerks out his full release.
When he’s done, I sit back on my heels and wipe the edges of my mouth. Without a word, Santino reaches forward and grabs me by the arms, hauling me up to straddle his lap. My dress rides up to my hips as he stares into my eyes with a look of complete adoration.
“Spend the night with me.” It’s a statement but there’s question in his eyes.
I glance down at his chest. “I better not.”
“Why?”
“You know why.”
“I’m not asking for sex.” He tilts his head and captures my eyes, trying to read me.
“It’s not that.” I run a hand through his hair, trying to think of an excuse. “It’s my brother. He’ll wonder where I am.”
“Then let’s tell him we’re seeing each other. I’m not afraid of him.”
“Neither am I,” I reply firmly and then decide to hit Santino with honesty because deep down, I know he’ll be okay with it. “But spending the night also isn’t taking things slow.”
He hums a noise in the back of his throat while affectionately rubbing his hands up and down my arms. “I understand. Whatever you’re comfortable with is fine. You’re in charge.”
I smile boldly at him and prop my hands on my hips. “It’s good you remembered because there was a moment there when you were barking orders at me that I thought you’d forgotten.”
He laughs and pulls me into his chest, his voice deep and rumbly when he says, “Feel free to remind me like that any time.”
It’s Saturday afternoon before I have plans to see Tilly again. She said her brother noticed how late she got home Wednesday night and asked her a lot of awkward questions that she somehow successfully dodged. When she texted me the next day, she said it’d be easier for us to see each other during the day on the weekends because he notices less when she’s not out at night.
I’m not a huge fan of this sneaking around business because I don’t need to give Mac any more reason to hate me, but I understand Tilly’s desire to see how things go with us. Maybe we’ll realise in a couple of weeks that the connection we had in our past is just that…a thing of the past.
However, watching her come on my hand Wednesday night was about the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever done with a woman. There was something mind-blowingly erotic about the innocence of it all. No sex, no shedding of clothes, just a simple slip of a finger. And maybe it was hotter because she hadn’t been touched in so long, but watching her come undone while she took control of her own pleasure…fuck. And what she did afterwards to me…Christ, I get hard just thinking about it.
My mobile trills from its spot on the counter, and I see it’s my mother calling. I swear it’s like her brain is hardwired to know when I’m having indecent thoughts.
