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“Fuck!” I gasp, my eyes flying open as my orgasm hits me out of the blue. A fresh wave of arousal gushes from me, slicking my folds as my clit throbs and my walls pulse, searching for Nicolo’s cock. I shudder, gasping with each wave of tingling pleasure.
“Good morning,” Nicolo says, releasing my clit to smile up at me mischievously.
I hum contentedly in response as he crawls up to press a tangy kiss on my lips. Then he collapses back onto the bed beside me and pulls me into his arms. He’s as naked as I am, our clothes still lying on the living room floor, and I can feel his arousal as his cockhead slides across my slick folds pressing adamantly up between my ass cheeks. Reaching between my legs, I guide him toward my pussy entrance, and Nicolo groans as I tilt my hips, initiating the first inch of penetration. Slowly sinking into me, Nicolo continues to spoon me as he fucks me from behind.
It isn’t showy or fast or hard. It’s sensual and almost sweet how he holds me close against his chest as he slides in and out of me. His hand runs down my arm to grasp my hand, and he guides my fingers to the peak of my thighs. Pressing my fingers against my clit, Nicolo silently instructs me to play with myself while he moves inside me.
I obey, circling my clit with my fingers as his cock finds my G-spot again and again.
“Come for me, Anya,” Nicolo murmurs against my ear, then he bites down on the lobe sending a zing of pleasure down my spine, straight to my core.
Whimpering, I circle my clit more adamantly and find my release a moment later, exploding around his cock as he starts to thrust more forcefully. With three erratic thrusts, Nicolo finds his own release, pouring his seed inside of me as my pussy grips his cock like a vise.
I don’t know when or how my desire became so insatiable, but no matter how many times Nicolo fucks me, I’m always ready for more. And as he throbs inside of me, drawing out my own orgasm, I feel his cum filling me so full it starts to leak out around him.
“Fucking Christ, if I could, I don’t know that I would ever stop fucking you,” he breathes as he holds me to his chest.
His words mirror my own thoughts, and I breathe deeply as I take in this moment of bliss. Last night was one of the best nights of my life, and to follow it up with this morning seems too good to be true. I want to soak up every minute of it and solidify it in my memory.
Because I don’t know if I’ll ever have the opportunity to be with him like this again. Guilt tugs at me as I think about the massive, life-sized secret I’ve been keeping from him for so long. At first, my decision not to tell him about Clara felt justified. I did it out of fear and in the hopes of protecting my daughter.
But now, it feels like an impossible hurdle to overcome.What possible way can I tell him that we have a daughter together that doesn’t end up with him hating me?I just can’t see one. I almost told him last night. When he started asking questions about our first night together at Incognito, I knew it would be the right segue. He even asked me if he had done something to hurt me. In all honesty, he had hurt my feelings when he’d mocked me for not being a virgin. But what had hurt was the fact that he didn’t even know that he was the one who had taken my virginity.
I was so close to telling him–to just put it out there. I know that if I’d confessed about our history together, I would have followed it up with the fact that he’d gotten me pregnant. It was on the tip of my tongue, and then I chickened out. And now I feel like even more of a liar, a fraud, because he just gave me the most wonderful evening, and still I haven’t told him he has a daughter.
Nicolo doesn’t ask about breakfast today. Instead, he showers quickly and prepares to drive me home once again. A silent understanding that Sunday morning is when I spend time with my family–though who that family is, he doesn’t know.
Just like last week, he walks me right to my apartment door and gives me a kiss that melts my heart. I walk inside and am greeted by my aunt and the excited chatter of my four-year-old daughter. And I know I can’t keep putting it off. Nicolo deserves to meet her. He deserves to share this time with her, to watch Clara grow. Now I just have to decide how I’m going to tell him. And then I have to stick to it.
It’s nearly impossible to eat my breakfast as I think about how Nicolo is going to react. The best I can do is break it to him gently. Sit him down and put it all out there. And hopefully, he doesn’t feel like killing me afterward. While in reality, I don’t actually think Nicolo would harm me, I do worry that telling him my secret might ruin any chances we have of being happy together. Right now, I hate the thought of letting that possibility go.
“Mama, can we go to the park today?” Clara asks as I carry our empty plates to the sink.
“Sure, baby,” I agree, smiling at the way her face lights up. “Go wash your hands and get your coat.”
“Auntie Patritsiya too?” Clara presses.
“I would love to go,” Aunt Patritsiya says.
It’s a short walk to Montrose Park, and the sun is shining, dissipating the chill brought on by the bitter gusts of wind. Clara skips between us, holding each of our hands as she chatters on about what she and Auntie Patritsiya did last night while I was gone. It’s impossible not to smile as I listen to her rendition ofToy Storyand why the “stringy dog” is her favorite.
So caught up in my daughter’s exuberant tale, I lose track of my surroundings, vaguely aware of the harbor off to my right, the park all around us. Still, I’m not thinking about the people we pass or the dogs that chase after their owners as they jog by.
Suddenly, it’s too late as I register the familiar voice. “Anya?”
My eyes snap up to the tall, muscular man before me, and my heart stops at the sight of Nicolo’s devastatingly handsome smile.
“What are you doing here?” I blurt, all manners swept aside as panic sets in.
“I was just having a… meeting with a colleague,” Nicolo says delicately. His eyes drop to Clara, noting the way she’s holding my hand and Aunt Patritsiya’s. Then he looks up at my aunt, unleashing a charming grin. “Hi, I’m Nicolo,” he says, extending his hand. “Anya and I are….” His eyes flick to mine as if checking to see what word I would like to use in front of my family.
“He goes to Rosehill College. We have a class together,” I provide quickly. “This is my aunt, Patritsiya,” I introduce.
Aunt Patritsiya releases Clara’s hand to shake Nicolo’s. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I haven’t met many of Anya’s college friends, so this is a real treat.”
“And that must make you… Anya’s cousin?” Nicolo guesses as he bends down to address Clara. His eyes move from her face to my aunt’s and back, no doubt searching for the resemblance.
My heart hammers in my chest, and my palms start to sweat.
