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I DON’T NEED YOUR HELP
PAST
We’re quiet as we enter his home. Quiet as he turns a lamp on, just enough light to illuminate but dim enough that there are plenty of shadows to hide my anxiousness in.
We’re quiet as he stands in front of me, pushing my hair to the side to kiss my neck. I try to train my face to remain emotionless, even though he can’t see me. If I start now, when it starts to get too intense, I won’t fall apart. It won’t seem like I’m in too deep.
Maybe I already am and that’s why I try so hard to fight it in this moment.
And then we aren’t quiet anymore.
“Ever fucked a grown man, Sabrina?” He asks as he grips my upper arms and turns me to face him.
My jaw is clenched, rivaling the pressure I use to squeeze my thighs together.
He’s the antidote to my poker face. The only man in the world who’s ever been able to find the chink in my armor and make a sport of widening it until he can reach inside me and rip my resolve to shreds.
“You don’t scare me,” I whisper, even as I taste the flavor of deceit.
He doesn’t say anything else, his eyes glittering with triumph.
“Fear is exhilarating, isn’t it?” He brings his palm up to my cheek. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me,Stellina. But I’d be lying if I said you don’t scare me.”
I can’t handle his words, can’t bear to hear him tell me these things that make me feel like I’m as powerful as he makes me out to be. I can’t handle bringing a man like Abraham Pugliesi to his knees.
So I grab him by the lapels of his jacket and kiss him, determined to lose myself in this tryst, even if just for tonight.
With a moan, I start to tug at his jacket, wanting to finally see him. Feel him. It drops to the ground behind him, and he grabs my face with both hands, slowing the kiss down until it’s sweet like honey.
“I want to take my time with you,” he says between kisses.
“I don’t think I can,” I whisper, closing my eyes, letting my desire shine through in a way I haven’t fully been able to before.
Without another word, he lifts me in his arms, and I yelp, opening my eyes to stare down at him as I wrap my legs around him. I’ve never been handled like this. It makes me feel divinely feminine.
We head toward the hallway, an area I haven’t been in, and I’m torn between staring at him and wanting to bury my face in his neck. To smell him and forever remember the first time I’ve ever been swept off my feet.
“I told you I want to fuck you in my bed,” he tells me as he reaches one hand behind me to open the door we’ve stopped in front of.
“Like a queen?” I say, my words ragged. I am unrecognizable. Maybe it took witnessing a different side of him to unearth a side of myself I had yet to meet.
Rather than speak, he sets me down on his bed. I can’t look at anything other than him, as he pins me with his gaze. I stare back, my gaze volleying between watching his hands unbutton his shirt and his eyes that I can’t completely see in the dim light coming from his windows.
He pulls at his shirt, yanking it from his waistband to reveal his undershirt. A quick flick of his fingers has his pants unbuttoned and when those are off, he tugs his undershirt from his body.
Finally,finally, I can see his naked skin. A smattering of hair adorns his chest and just below his navel.
He reaches for my hand, entwining it with his. I smile, unable to hide my pleasure at the sweet gesture. He presses a kiss to my wrist, where my pulse jumps.
“Touch me,” he says, his words sounding like a wish. I nod and he guides my hand to his chest. I can feel the steady thump of his heart, quicker than normal. He grins, and I envy his ability to show me his cards outright. He wears his nervousness in such a sexy way.
When I glance up at his eyes, he slides my hand down his chest, to the tightening muscles of his stomach. I can feel the slight quiver there, as if he’s barely holding himself together.
And then, my hand is pushed further down, into the waistband of his black boxer briefs. It’s immediate, the feeling of his hard, warm length as I brush my fingers against it. He skips a breath as I find it fully, wrapping my fingers around it.
“Sabrina,” he says, the end of my name a sexy chuckle.
“Do you want to see me?” I ask him as I run my thumb over the silky hardness of his erection.
