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Our tongues tangle together, and she whimpers as my body heats to an inferno. A fucking inferno. We’re both eager to find out where this kiss will take us. We’re combustible, like dynamite, trying our best to hang on tight and enjoy the ride before we’re blown to bits.
Her soft lips move over mine, breaking the kiss, nibbling her teeth along my jaw.
I wrap an arm around her waist, breathing in her floral scent as I trail kisses down the graceful column of her throat.
She doesn’t hate me at all like she pretends.
She’s so goddamn beautiful out here, with the vibrant orange of the fading sun radiating a luminescent glow around her.
My cock hardens instantly, like a soldier ready to plunge and conquer.
She twines her arms around my neck with an impatient moan, her fingers climbing and spreading like ivy through my hair, and I grip onto her shirt tighter, needing her body as close to me as possible.
Her panting chest pressed up against mine makes me restless to taste her hardened nipples. I palm one of her breasts in my hand and bring my mouth down to suck it through the thin material of her shirt.
“What are we doing, Costi?” she whispers, breathlessly.
I stand up, staring into the depths of her lust-filled eyes. “I’m showing you who you belong to.”
She blinks, and it’s like a shutter slammed closed, blocking me from seeing the hunger in her gaze. “You think I belong to you?” She steps out of my embrace.
“Yes.”
She moves further away from me. “You have a lot to learn, Costi.”
I step closer, erasing the distance between us, and cinch my arms around her waist so she can’t escape. “No. You do.”
And then I claim her mouth for another kiss.
Only this time there’s more urgency.
More passion.
More raw desire.
More… everything. So much fucking more.
She gasps and I fist her hair, angling her head to deepen the kiss. My whole body is on fire, vibrating intensely, needing every inch of her.
“Costi,” she murmurs, and I bring her down with me, so I’m sitting on the rock and she’s straddling my lap.
She presses her tits to my face, and I bite the stiff peaks. Her back arches as she grinds her heat against my dick. Fuck. She throws her head back, her hair tumbling down to her waist in waves.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she says in a soft voice.
I pause and lean back. “Bianca, I don’t want you to regret this.”
Fourteen
Bianca
* * *
Regret.
I once regretted drinking too much on my twenty-first birthday. My girlfriends had taken me downtown, and we had the VIP section of a nightclub. Champagne flowed all night, and I ended up losing my virginity to a stranger. I wanted to give it away so Gino couldn’t have it. At the time it was fun, but the next morning I could barely open my eyes. Every sound hurt my head, and I promised myself I would never do anything so stupid ever again.
Regret has a funny way of creeping up on you. At the time, you love what you’re doing, and never want to stop.
Like now. A huge part of me doesn’t want Costi to stop touching me. I’ve fantasized about this for so many years. I’ve imagined his hands on me. Rough. Needy. I’ve pictured it countless times throughout my past. This is so much better than any dream I’ve ever had.
One thing I never imagined, however, was the next morning. Will I regret it?
I don’t know.
I slide off his lap. “We should slow down.” It’s astonishing I just uttered those words.
He stands, repositioning himself in his pants. “I’m sorry. I got carried away.”
I turn, not really sure what to do. “Well, we should head back.” The sun is disappearing rather quickly, and I hustle down the path we came, my nerves threatening to expose themselves the longer I’m around him. I don’t want him to know I’m nervous.
But I am.
Every moment that passes, my palms get sweatier. There’s a rollercoaster in my stomach. I’m not even sure why. I just know there’s something monumental forming between us right now, and I don’t know if I can fight it much longer.
We make it down the mountain in record time, and once inside Costi’s house, I nearly sprint to the back bedroom, shutting the door to be alone with my thoughts.
“Slow down, right? I can slow things down.” I think back to the hike and the way Costi’s eyes held a certain possessiveness.
“No, this is silly,” I whisper to myself. “He probably has millions of women banging his door down.”
“Bianca,” Costi yells through the door, rattling the wood, shocking me that here he is, trying to bang down my door. “Can I come in, please?”
I swing it open, and he gazes at me the same way he did when we were out on the hike. With longing. With desire. Passion.
