Page 80 of A New Days Don

His hand caresses some of my hair behind my ear, and I lean my head into the warmth of him. Both of us sit there bare, neither one of us is ready to end whatever spell has taken us hostage.

“Stay here,” Massimo murmurs before his tattoo covered body stands from the bed, towering over me like a six-foot something Adonis. He saunters into the bathroom, and my eyes trail down his broad back to his muscular glutes that flex and relax with each step.

I bite my lower lip, Massimo’s release floods my mouth for a second taste, and heat bursts low in my core while liquid pools between my thighs. My pussy is insatiable. For Massimo and his touch.

When Massimo reemerges from the bathroom, his cock hanging heavily between his thick thighs, he is holding a damp cloth. With gentle swipes, he cleans the mess on my chin and lips. His dark eyes remain on mine, soft, addictive emotions swirling decadently in his chocolate eyes.

No words are passed between us as he silently takes care of me. Massimo lifts me into his muscular arms. His olive-tanned skin covered in black ink is a dramatic contrast to my pale skin. His warmth envelopes me, soothing the tension that was slowly building, and I rest against him. My head buried into the crook of his neck as he brought us into his bathroom.

He turns the shower on, never once letting me go, then we slide in under the warm water.

“What are you doing?” I ask as he slowly places me in front of him, keeping my back pressed to his chest.

“Taking care of you.” Massimo says simply, as if it’s obvious, “I’m going to wash your hair, this lithe body of yours, and then we will decide on what we are going to order in. Then, I plan to tuck you into my bed for the night.”

For the first time in years, the thought of sleeping anywhere but my bed doesn’t scare me.

There have been a lot of firsts tonight.

A lot of moments where I would typically lose my mind, and I didn’t.

My eyes burn with tears, and despite the water pouring down my face, Massimo seems to notice, “You’re so much more than your past, Mila. You deserve to be given everything and more, and I will spend the rest of my life doing just that.”

I try to spin in his grip, but he tuts before pushing my head forward so the showerhead can wet the tangled strands, “Let me worship you.”

“Okay,” I choke, and Massimo acts like a man set free. Taking his time memorizing, massaging, and caressing every part of me. Kissing my skin and murmuring sweet nothings against the sensitive skin. The last of the tension and bits of control I could salvage in my life slowly melt away with the warmth of the shower water, and swirl down the drain.

Massimo is sin, and I fear I may not be able to come back from this addiction.

Chapter 33

Mila

Massimo did exactly as he promised. He cleaned and worshiped my body, drawing out more pleasure and another orgasm from me as he peppered me with the softest touches and kisses. He didn’t let me do anything, not even walk, as he dried me off in the shower and carried me to his bed. He dressed me in one of his black t-shirts, the material oozing his leather and cedar scent.

My heart flutters as he looks up from his phone, the most delicious look in his eyes as he takes me in, where he has sat me down on the kitchen island. He bites down with pearly white teeth on his lower lip, as a low purr rumbles through his tattooed chest. He winks at me before turning back to his phone, in the process of ordering our dinner, and my cheeks flush as my guts turn to mush.

I am in trouble with this man.

After a few quick taps, Massimo slides his phone into the pocket of his grey sweatpants. I try to look away as quickly as possible only to have my eyes draw down to the distinct outline of his cock. The very same one I had between my lips while he gripped my hair tightly and left his flavour on my tongue, lips, and chin.

“Dinner should be here in half an hour,” Massimo says as he approaches me, slotting himself between my thighs, his semi-hard cock pressed to my bare center beneath the shirt I’m wearing.

“That’s good,” I squeak, which elicits an amused chuckle out of him. I shoot him a glare, to which his lips pull back into the most sinful smile I have ever seen.

“That’s a half hour too long,” he purrs, slowly caressing my cheek with his thumb before pulling my lips into his.

I moan on contact, and he releases a pleased growl that sounds more like a sigh of relief than animalistic. His tongue plunges into my mouth, and I tangle mine with his, meeting his ferocity the best I can. All my nerves come to life, singing his name like a prayer. My pussy weeps, and I try to stop it, try to avoid the humiliation that would be the inevitable wet spot on his shirt, but I can’t. With each bruising kiss, my core clenches and drips.

I pull away from him, both of us panting hard.

“You okay?” He asks, his dilated brown eyes bouncing between mine.

“Mhmm,” I squeak, “I just need a second.”

Massimo nods, his dark hair falling in front of his eyes, giving me the space I asked for. The way he kisses the back of my hand makes me think he thinks I’m about to panic, and my cheek burns with shame.

“I-it’s not what you are thinking,” I stammer, trying to save my dignity. “I don’t want to dirty your shirt.”