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I feel myself tingling. I try to push the thoughts away.
But his hands are between my legs, his fingers sliding in and out of me.
I roll onto my back and sigh in frustration. How does he make me feel this way?
He pulls my legs apart, gripping his cock in his hand; he lowers himself over me, pushing my legs even wider with his hips. I gasp as his body pins me to the bed.
My hand drifts down my body beneath the fabric of my pants. Touch the lace panties that his fingers brushed across not that long ago.
I pull them aside and dip my finger inside myself.
I can't believe how wet I am.
I groan and rock my hips against my hand, picture him above me on the bed.
He pins my arms above my head and traces kisses along my neck. “You are so wet, Seraphina. You drive me wild,” he says against my ear. His voice vibrating through me. I tilt my head and feel his lips against mine. His tongue slides into my mouth, and I feel him pressing his cock against my pussy.
He slides his cock into me, pushing into me. I feel my pussy opening as he fills me up. The pressure is indescribable. I shudder as it slips deeper.
Pain mixes with pleasure, and he rocks his hips back and forth.
“You are such a good girl,” he breathes.
He releases his grip on my wrists, and I wrap my hands around his neck, arching my back as I try to feel him deeper inside me. “Mm. That’s a good girl. I know you can handle this.”
I gasp at the pleasure of it. I did not know it would be this amazing.
He thrusts faster. I wrap my legs around his waist, and he slips his arm under my back, pulling me up toward him. He pushes into me, and my body shakes.
“Antonio,” I whisper.
Then, an orgasm engulfs every fiber of my body. The intensity sends currents of lightning through me.
I lay on my bed, panting. Blinking against the darkness. My hand still resting against my pussy. I can't believe how amazing that felt.
With the heated need satisfied, I go to the bathroom to wash my hand and splash cold water on my face. I stare into the mirror.
Tell him tomorrow, Seraphina.
I roll my eyes at my reflection. What is going on with you? Why are you thinking about him like this? He is your enemy, not your lover.
I climb back into bed and toss and turn for hours before drifting off to sleep.
I didn't have the same nightmare I had every night. I don’t dream at all for the first time in as long as I can remember.
I wake up feeling rested and fresh, but I'm hit with anxiety.
I reach out and pick up my phone.
Antonio has sent another message.
Antonio: If you don’t call me, I'm going to come to your place.
No, I can’t handle that. I can’t face him in person. I can’t even bring myself to dial his number.
I type, and my anxiety grows worse.
Me: Antonio, I'm really sorry about last night.
