The Morning After

Polaroid

"Yeah, no way, I have a feeling that your sort of breakfast doesn't involve food." Francesco chuckles a deep raspy tone, his arms coming up to cord through his slightly long hair.

Fuck he was sexy, that was one thing I couldn't deny. He had that sort of dangerous bad boy vibe, one thing that I stayed away from. I didn't need any drama in my life, I was totally fine with living under the radar.

My life is simple being that the only thing I do is work, sleep, and eat. I should have never listened to Michael, and his shenanigans about going out and letting my hair down.

For goodness sakes, my hair was only just past my ears in a curly messy cut.

"I did say breakfast in bed didn't I, which means you feed me and we fuck again and again. That is before I have to get to work." He frowns up his beautifully rugged face, his thick lips turning into a pout.

"Yeah. . .how about no." I search around for my briefs, the covers wrapped securely around my waist.

"Come on, I have to be at work in like three hours. Just feed me and that's all, besides I know you can cook pumpkin. When we talked last night the only thing you talked about was cooking." He whines and I stare at him in disbelief.

"Please. . ." I groan in frustration.

"After I feed you, you'll leave and forget about me right?" I ask and he nods his head, his hair flowing around his face in soft wisps.

"I promise."

• • •

The sound of spoons scraping the sides of bowls, fill the deathly silence that surrounds the two of us.

"Cereal is your idea of breakfast?" He asks uncertain, and I shrug my shoulders. "It's the fastest meal that I can make for breakfast before I have to go for work, which by the way I'm late for because of you." I squint my eyes at him making him raise his hands in surrender.

"Hey, not my fault pumpkin, it takes two to tango." I laugh loudly, the sound surprising him just a little.

I scrunch my nose and peek at him from up under my lashes shyly. "Really, two to tango, how old are you?" Francesco smiles, a real smile not his usual smirk that I've gotten use to in the short one and a half hour.

"I'm twenty-six, you?" I raise an eyebrow, the spoon still inside of my mouth. Pulling it free, I chew the rest of the Lucky Charms, before answering him.

"Twenty-two, you're really old." I laugh at his bewildered face. "Twenty-six is not old, I'm in my prime I'd like to say. Besides I'm sexy as fuck, so who cares." He states, his eyes twinkling with humor.

"Yeah, you're right." I sigh and his hand halts close to his mouth full of cereal. "You think I'm sexy?" He asks his smile disappearing, the look of a predator resurfacing in his hazel eyes.

"Yes?" I tilt my head, as he drops his spoon. "Fuck it." He growls before reaching across the small breakfast bar in my kitchen.

• • •

"Fu—ck." The word leaves me in a hiss as Francesco sinks into my body, his thick c*ck stretching my insides sinfully.

"So tight. . ." He groans his hips flexing into me slowly. "Mhm." I whine making him chuckle lowly. My fingers grip the railing of the stove tighter as he slides into me deeper, and peppers kisses up and down my neck.

"Faster, go faster." I cry out lowly when he slows down the pump of his hips. "No, we've got time. . .two hours to be exact." He whispers into my ear, his teeth gripping said appendage.

"Besides, if I have to forget about you after this, I'll at least want to fuck you so good that you'll remember me Luke." He laughs, his hands tighter around my waist.

"So just hang on for the ride, amore." He murmurs, his hips beginning to piston in and out of me. (Love)

The drag of him pulling on my insides painfully, causes me pleasure none the less. "Ah hah ah—fuck." The sound of skin slapping against skin, reverberates around the room loudly.

"Yes. More. More." I whine my hand reaching behind me to hold his arm, not wanting him to go anywhere. Not that he would leave me like this, I'd kill him.

Francesco leans his chest against my back, pinning me against the stove. "I want you to remember this moment every time you cook in here." He growls and I can't help but to squeeze my eyes shut at the thought.

The thought of him touching me and being one with me in this kitchen. I'd never be able to look at it the same again. When I'd look at this stove I'd imagine him behind me, his body hovering over mine causing me more pleasure then anyone in my life has.

"No, don't make me." I whine my back arching in effort to get away from his relentless pounding, the pleasure to much to handle. "You will, and it's going to be all your fault pumpkin."

He grunts, his chest vibrating with the force of his words.

"And I'm going to make sure of it." He sighs wistfully into the shell of my ear, his warm minty breath fanning lightly against my shoulder.

{New book hope you guys enjoy. Now let me go edit some chapters and what not. Listen to the song I love it and it's basically talking about Francesco, his personality.}