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I kick open my bedroom door, and the knob slams into the wall before ricocheting back at me. It catches the heel of my shoe before stopping in its place. I flick on the lights, and the room is bathed in a soft yellow hue.
As Havana looks at her surroundings, I carry her to the bed and toss her onto the mattress. She lands with a quiet thud, shock escaping through her lips in the form of a small scream.
“This isn’t how relationships are supposed to go,” I explain as I start to unbutton my shirt. She sits there with her eyes cascading over my body. “In the real world, we might have met at a coffee shop or in the pasta aisle at Hy-vee. I might have seen you from across the room and weighed the pros and cons of asking you out.” I slip off the shirt, and it falls to the floor in a heap of cotton. “You might have said yes, you might have said no. I’d have gone about my day the same regardless of your answer.”
A thunderbolt doesn’t strike simply because you meet the love of your life. When Riccardo met Jacqueline, he didn’t feel the same way about her that he did about Selene. He was half in love with her before their first conversation was over, but it was a thunderbolt kind of love. His love would last; it would endure the hard things.
A thunderboltisthe hard thing. It changes your life and uproots everything. You become a monstrous version of yourself, ready and willing to do anything to make heryours. You’ll kill a man. You’ll risk losing everything you own. You’ll sell a kidney for a chance to talk to her.
If I would have seen Havana in a grocery store, who knows if I’d have been struck by a thunderbolt or if I wouldn’t have even noticed her. There’s no scientific explanation for what happens. We don’t know why it happens or where. You just run across her, and suddenly, you know.
“If you’d have said yes, we would have dated for a while and been as happy as we could be. But eventually, we’d have gone our separate ways. I’ve never been the relationship type,” I admit. I can’t explain it. I love women, but I never loved any of them enough to keep them around. Maybe that was destiny working long before I ever knew it. Perhaps fate knew I’d meet Havana one day, so it kept me from wanting to lock down a lesser wife.
As I strip off my pants and stand before her in my boxers, I can’t hide the erection threatening to break through the fabric. My cock stands at attention, desperate to get out and get in her. “But instead, I saw you at Mustangs. One look at you and I knew I’d never be the same. I haven’t lived a normal day since. I think about you all the time. I have to shoot bourbon straight every night before bed just to lull myself to sleep.”
I climb on the edge of the bed and approach her like a lion coming after its prey. “I need you, Havana. I need you in a way that I’ve never needed anyone or anything ever before. I need you like I need air and water to survive.”
She falls backward onto the bed as I crawl over her. There’s a mix of lust and fear in her eyes, and it breathes fire into my belly. I want her to want me; I want her afraid to leave me. “If you give me what I want, I’ll give you everything you want and more.”
I lean down to whisper the words into her ear. In the pause between sentences, I drag my tongue across her lobe. The skin is soft and silky. “I’ll take care of your father’s treatments. We’ll get him the best medical care that money can buy.”
I dip down further until my lips are pressed against her neck. I allow her to feel the movement of my words like a strange sort of braille. I say the words and let her make them out from the way my lips draw on her skin. “If you want to be a lawyer, I’ll send you to school, I’ll help you study, and I’ll get you in touch with the best practice this side of the Missouri state line.”
I allow my body to press against hers, and it’s tough to hold myself aloft. Her curves fit into the grooves of my body like they were meant for one another. We’re two pieces of the same puzzle, and we’ve finally found our perfect match. “If you want to make sexy videos for men on the internet,” I pause before I finish my sentence because I’m not sure this is something I want to offer her. I change track midway through and end with, “Then you’ll make them with me.”
I ache to be balls deep inside of her. Just the mention of making sexy videos with her makes the pain that much harder to handle. “You don’t have to fuck dildos anymore, Havana. You fuck my dick as often as you like.”
I grind my hips against hers, and she lets out a frustrated mewl of pleasure. It isn’t enough friction to get her where she wants to be. “You don’t have to suck fake cocks and make sure yourself gag on silicone. You can go down on me until I cover that pretty little face of yours in my cum. You’ll have to charge extra for those men to see you wearing my spunk. It’ll be a God damn fucking gift for them. They’ll be fisting their dicks just wishing they were the ones to do that to you.”
She wraps a single hand around my neck and digs her nails into my skin. “Stop talking,” she huffs after a few moments. “Just fuck me, Lorenzo. We’ll figure the rest out later.”
I don’t need to be told twice.
12
HAVANA
In his deep, rich voice, he could recite the Constitution to me and I’d be turned on. I don’t like his methods. I don’t like feeling like an item to be possessed and used at his whim. But another part of me does, and it craves for his touch.
We struggle for a few seconds to get the rest of our clothes off. The outfit I was wearing when he kidnapped me from Mustangs wasn’t exactly meant to be taken off with ease. Lace here, straps there, it frustrates Lorenzo until he rips it off in anger. My beautiful lingerie is a shredded fabric now, disappearing to the floor with the rest of his clothes.
He palms himself at my entrance and looks up one last time before entering me. His beautiful, dark eyes search mine for a second. Whatever he’s looking for, he finds, and he shoves in without protection or a second thought.
It’s been a while since I was last with a man. If virginity could regrow, Lorenzo would have torn through it like a bull in a China shop. The tip of his cock slams into my cervix, and a wave of pain and nausea wash over me. A second passes, and then another. He stays inside of me, stilled, with his eyes on my face once more. And he waits.
I adjust beneath the weight of him. One foot wrapped around his calf, the other perched on the small of his back. Lorenzo grabs my thigh and holds me in position as he starts to carefully withdraw from inside me. He is slow and intentional, dragging the head of his cock against every nerve ending and pleasure spot I have. And the entire time, he watches my face.
His movements are so slow that it drives me nuts. When he finally drives back into me, it’s with significantly less force than before. I’m frustrated by his efforts. I need more friction and speed. I need him to thrust harder and deeper.
As if reading my mind, Lorenzo abandons his efforts to get me used to his girth. The next time he pulls out, it’s followed immediately by him thrusting back into me. It’s like a shock to my core and I don’t know how to respond. He doesn’t stop there. He keeps plundering my body until I’m devoid of thought. If someone asked me what my name is, I don’t know if I could respond.
The press of his body on top of mine is a weight that I never thought I wanted. His skin on mine is a sensation I’ve never dreamt about. Maybe one day, I would meet someone, fall in love, and live happily ever after. That was the far-off fantasy I had about my future. But now it comes true without any work, without any struggle. Lorenzo is here and so is the future I abstractly dreamt about.
I barely notice him saying he’s going to come. I’m lost in my own little world of pleasure and desire. I’m pushing my hips in time with his and taking what I want as brazenly as I dare. My stomach churns with need and I detonate around him like a bomb. He says some words, and I see his lips move, but I can’t make out what he’s saying. It’s as if I’ve been struck deaf by pleasure.
I get his meaning after a few seconds pass. He’s still rocking back and forth, lengthening my orgasm, when his warmth spreads inside me. Fear echoes through my chest for only a second.What if he gets you pregnant? What if you have his baby?But Lorenzo Riva isn’t just any man. If he got me pregnant, he’d take care of me. He wouldn’t drop me like a hot potato, he’d pay for my doctor visits and show up to every single one with his hand firmly planted in mine. I don’t want a baby just yet, but he could change my mind.
The rock of his hips slows to a crawl. He milks every ounce of his baby batter into my center before resting inside of me. “We’ll go again in a minute,” Lorenzo announces.
