Spicy Sugar

The Shopping Trip: Maestro

Briar's POV:

It was the fourth day in Italy today.

The fourth day, I woke up in the morning to see his naked, well-toned body resting in the bed beside me. Again I found my eyes wandering over the ink on his skin.

The rosary around his neck with the words 'only god can judge me' might seem awfully generic to most people. To me, it made much more sense. After noticing how people looked at him when he was just walking the streets, it seemed a fitting motto for him to go by. He didn't care about other people's opinions much.

His right arm was a mismatch of different motives. Some band tattoos, a few rings of barbed wire, and a stiletto knife on the inside of his forearm. A cross on its outside and the word 'fuck' on his knuckles. I couldn't help myself but shake my head a little at that. It seemed like he was trying too hard there.

His right side, however, still had me guessing. A massive reaper was inked onto it. Along the blade of his scythe, the phrase 'Moritur et ridet'.

"It dies laughing," I whispered more to myself than to anyone, still trying to figure it out.

Laying on my side and staring at him, I remember how I played over my first shock once I did see him naked. His whole body was crisscrossed with scars and bruises. The very crudely stitched-up bullet wound on his left side had me really concerned. To my question after that first night, if he wanted an actual doctor to take a look at it, he just chuckled, remarking how it was already treated better than he first intended to. The fool really just wanted to burn it closed using some heated-up blade.

With a small smile, I remembered back to the last days. How we spent the daytime, with me dragging him through some small shops of the village. How he enjoyed being out in the countryside doing nothing at all the whole day. Well, not entirely nothing. We went to take a swim at a local lake a day ago. It might or might not have been an excuse for me to ogle his bare skin a bit more.

He was extremely well-built. His body seemed to show no single ounce of fat. All seemed to be pure muscle. His reflexes also seemed out of this world. He once accidentally knocked over a bottle of wine at the local restaurant and caught it mid-air just a heartbeat later, not spilling a single drop. Whoever trained this man to be such a killing machine did a way too good job.

Oh, and the nights. Just thinking about them sent shivers through my whole body and tingles towards my center. The first one we spent together, he seemed to spend exploring my whole body with the curiosity of a child that is at the playground the first time. His lips and tongue and fingers brushing over every curve of my body, exploring me in all depth and studying my face and my moans.

The nights after were something different entirely. The curiosity was gone and made way for his pure skillfulness. Already he was playing my body while making love to me like a maestro playing his concert grand on a stage. The way he already knew my ins and outs, knew all the ways of making me shiver and tremble, how he already knew which button to push at exactly what time was driving me crazy every single night.

As my eyes still wandered his bare upper body like I was marveling at some statue I could hear his gravely sleep drunken voice cut through the air, "You are allowed to touch too you know, Sugar?"

Rolling my eyes at him, I pushed myself up with my arms, smiling down at him and exposing my bare chest to his gaze, "Good morning Spicy."

Leaning upon his elbows, he met my lips for a kiss, "Good morning, Sugar."

Melting in the kiss, I felt his fingers stroke along my sides towards my chest and swatted his hand away playfully, "Not now. Today we have to meet a schedule, Spicy. Giorgio should be done with your suit by now. We need to get you your final fitting."