We carried the fruits back in a plastic bag, leaving them in the kitchen. I'd asked for my own share of plums though, and he poured some for me in a purple bowl. Raffaele didn't like food in his room, so he made me swear that I wouldn't mess the place up.
The house was eerily empty. Dad and Ivan had gone out fishing, Antonio was wherever Antonio was, and Mom and Fio were at the market, leaving the two of us alone.
Again.
He opened his bedroom door, ushering for me to walk in first.
"Such a gentleman." I mused, walking inside.
I didn't wait for him to say anything else, flopping down onto his bed. Raffaele shot me a glimpse as I made myself comfortable, shaking his head. He walked in the direction of his painting set up, standing before his easel. There was a wooden stool propped in front of it, and he placed the bowl of Mirabelles down.
I could only blink, eyes falling slowly when I watched him take his shirt off. He wrapped his fingers around the hem of his Polo, and dragged it over his torso, curling it off his shoulders. He hung it onto the clothing rack near, strolling to the windows, and opened a slider to let some air in.
"Damn, it's hot." He groaned, raking his hands through his hair.
"Yeah," I pursed my lips, eyeing the blank canvas. "Um, what do you like painting?"
He laughed, back facing me. "Anything. Flowers, memories." A pause. "Naked girls."
"Oh..." was all I could say, scrunching my toes.
"But that's only because it's easy to find them in Italy." He shrugged, finally looking at me. "Remember? The woman are free with their sexualities here. Girls are more willing to take their clothes off for a painting."
I opened my mouth to say something, closed it again. Trying over, I did the same, unable to speak a single word. Swallowing hard, I finally gathered enough courage to propose, "Would you paint me?"
No response. He tugged his bottom lip between his teeth, tilting his head to the side to examine me. I scrunched my toes even harder, curling a loose hair behind my ear.
"Would you let me?" He deflected, and I nodded slowly. Raffaele copied my nod, marching forward, stance intimidating. "With nothing on?" I nodded weakly again. "No clothes, no underwear, completely bare?"
"Yeah..."
"Naked, all for me?"
"Yes Raffaele."
He made his way to the bed, looming over me with a domineering presence. "Right now?" Cocking an eyebrow, he pressed for my response.
I didn't give him one, simply edging off the bed and taking my clothes off leisurely, article by article. I let him watch me, admire me, and ambled to the spot where he would paint me. There was another stool opposite his easel, so I sat on that.
I swivelled carefully, laying myself out for him. My breathing was irregular, catching in my throat, but I stood my ground and tried sitting in ease.
"Sei così bellissima, you know..." (you're so beautiful) He commended, walking up to me. Along the way, he took the purple bowl. "So damn alluring."
Raffaele licked his pink lips, using his foot to push my legs open. I followed, heated. My knees parted, opening myself to him. He bent forward, set the bowl between my legs. It grazed against my sensitive spot, and my breath hitched completely, air clogging in my throat.
"E non so come cazzo mi liberero' di te, Coniglia." (And I don't know how the fuck I'm going to rid myself of you)
His fingers grazed my chin, raising my head back. Using the other hand, he brushed a curl away from my forehead, before tickling a line of his fingertip down the curve of my nose.
"Has it ever occurred to you just how bad you are for me?" He whispered. "How dangerous?"
I was panting, gulped my breaths down. "You've said so a couple times."
He chuckled roughly. "Sì, because it's true." He leaned forward, lips hanging on mine. "Non sono rimasto così concentrato su una persona prima. (I haven't stayed so focused on one person before) "Soprattutto data la mia situazione attuale." (Especially given my current situation.)
He forced his tongue between my lips, and I sighed. He let it dally, then wrenched it back, to my disappointment.
"The consequences of having you, Coniglietta, sono terribili." Raffaele stood straight again. "But I just can't stop myself, now can I?"
I could only stare at him, entirely enchanted.
He walked back, and situated himself on his own stool, rubbing his hands on his pants. "Tie your hair back for me, amore."
So I did, closing my scrunchie over my hair and holding them up in a messy half knot, slight curls falling down my face and over my shoulders. But the bun was secure, tied away from face and away from my body.
I arched my back, fixing my posture, and rested my hands on thighs.
"Sì, troppo bella." He murmured, lifting a pencil in his hand and going to work. "Move your head just like this." Raffaele led me, rotating his head, and I angled my own right, gaze fixed on the far corner of the room. "Perfect. You're so perfect."
This was unlike anything I had ever done. Unlike anything I had ever done with him. No matter how many instances Raffaele had seen me naked, right now, I still felt the most vulnerable. I was exposed, at the mercy of his gaze, on complete display for him as he scribbled my innocence onto paper, a sort of safekeeping for him.
But he calmed me down as he worked, made me feel more confident with affectionate words and reaffirming sentiments. I had become relaxed, letting him draw and paint me easily.
I don't know how much time had passed, but we had been here for a while. He'd finished the sketch, having moved on to painting now.
I popped a plum into my mouth, asking, "Have you ever had one of your Italian girlies fuck you?" The bowl shifted, so I hoisted it closer to cover my intimate area.
Raffaele's laugh came out gruff, and he shrugged, brushing another line of paint down the canvas. "Fuck me, or is it the other way around?" He sat up, threading a hand through his hair.
I shook my head, clearing my throat as I swallowed. "Fuck you. Dominate you." I giggled. "Top you."
"Top me?"
My mouth turned dry, so licked my lips. "You know," I whispered, pulling the bowl harder against me. The cool plastic brushed against my wetness, and I bit down on my tongue to prevent the moan from escaping. "Ride you..." I whispered.
Raffaele didn't say anything, and when I looked over at him, his face wasn't in view, hidden by the painting set-up. He was bent down in front of it, probably painting me again.
Or not. Maybe he was thinking, contemplating.
I heard the stool scrape loudly, piercing sound filling my ears. Raffaele placed his brush back onto the shelf of the easel, lifting the setting and placing it aside.
Now that he stood directly in my view, my eyes were able to devour his shirtless build. The sun hit him perfectly, warm light gleaming down onto his abs and glinting down his v-line. The rays accentuated the muscles of his arms, underlined his defined chest.
His face was in the shadows, but when he stalked forward, I could see that too: dark hair flopping down messily over his golden face, early beard scruff grazing his chin. His lips looked so pink, so plump, and I wanted to bite them.
I pressed my thighs, forgetting the bowl set below me. It prevented them from closing, having me heed them back open. When he got closer to me, I could admire the twinkling green of his eyes, mischief shining bright.
Raffaele knelt down and poised himself between my legs, rubbing up and down my thighs. He snuck his fingers inside the bowl, grabbed a plum and swallowed one whole.
I blinked. "The seed." I whispered in concern, and he chuckled.
He rose to his feet, and I quickly glanced up at him. He popped the large brown pip out from his mouth and motioned it over to me. I followed his hand, which was raised in the direction of the windows overhead. Raffaele flung the seed into the open slider, and it easily tipped into the outside.
I already had my gaze focused on him when he looked back down again. He cocked an amused eyebrow, and shrugged in question, blinking slowly. Leaning forward, he brought his hand to hold my face, and planted a small kiss on my lips. His own lingered, savouring my taste, savouring the moment.
Raffaele let go of my face, and held onto the bowl between my legs. In a quick movement, he set the bowl on the ground and closed his hand around mine, lifting me up into him. I wrapped instinctive arms around his neck, pushing myself against his body. My nipples rubbed his hard muscle. I shivered, warm friction submitting against a cold body.
"Puoi farlo," (you can do it) he whispered, pecking my lips again. His hands grasped my waist tighter. "Lead me, I'm yours."
I clenched my jaw, swallowing hard, nodding slowly. Taking a deep breath, I angled my head to the side, and kissed Raffaele's mouth in bliss. His hands went down to cup my ass, lifting me up. I wrapped my legs around his midsection, feeling my wetness slide onto his skin.
He carried us over to his bed, lips still attached in need as we kissed passionately. I felt our bodies lowered onto the edge of the bed, and I straddled him, running my fingers through his hair. I pulled roughly, tipping his head backwards and making him groan.
Getting him all riled up allowed me access to his neck, and I claimed it with sloppy kisses, biting and sucking his skin. Raffaele wrapped strong arms around my back, forcing me closer into him, needing my body over his.
I wasn't even fighting for dominance—he was letting me have it all.
I climbed off him, trailing wet kisses down his stomach. I reached the waistband of his pants, wrapped firm fingers around it and leisurely pulled them down. The lining of his bulge hardened against his briefs, and I smirked.
Knowing that he anticipated more, I stood, and he groaned.
Not now.
Seeing as we had done this before, I didn't require further instruction, and walked over to Raffaele's desk, opening the drawer where he kept the condoms. I picked one, gripped it in my hand, and strolled back to him.
It was so blatantly obvious that he absolutely needed this right now, because once I turned back around, the famished Italian had already thrown his briefs to the side, laying underneath the covers, hiding his erection.
I rolled my eyes. "I thought I had to 'lead you'?" I said, finger-quoting.
He shrugged, then winked. Raffaele propped his hands behind his head and patiently waited for my next move, smile only growing.
The bed dipped with my weight.
Oh, I'll lead you.
His member sprang in my face when I pulled the covers off him, which only made me wetter. With both of us heeding the action, I ripped the plastic open, and rolled the covering onto him.
I flicked my eyes up to meet his, and watched carefully how, slowly, the green disappeared, replaced by an untamed hunger, only lust filling his eyes.
I situated my legs on each side of his body, raising myself to my knees. Raffaele's eyes never left mine, watching me expectantly, carnal desire eminent within them.
Before I could do what we both wanted, I searched my hair for my scrunchie, pulling it off and letting my hair fall to my back. I rolled my neck, shaking my curls so that they flowed swiftly and framed my face.
"Will you let me," I purred, and used my hand to stroke him. Raffaele's head hit the pillow, and I smirked when he groaned. "take you?"
"Take me, control me, dominate me. I don't care." He grunted, bringing his hands to hold my waist.
Stopping them quickly, I pinned them back down onto the bed. His erection pressed into my stomach, and I glided my heat over it, dressing his shaft with my juices. My smile only grew when I felt him twitch, groaning in both anger and pleasure.
I kissed Raffaele once, pulled away when he wanted more. He searched my lips, and I let them hover above his, close enough to have him reach upward, only for me to pull away again. I sucked his neck instead, claiming him with red marks.
"How bad do you want me Raffaele?" I let go of his wrists, and wrapped my palm around the small section of his neck.
He grunted a short response, and I grinned into his neck. "I'm yours Coniglia."
Before his desires turned him feral, I raised myself back to my knees again, running both hands in my hair and puffing it out to my backside.
Inhaling deeply, I let his tip graze my entrance. I brought my hand to my mouth, spitting into my palm and used that to lube him up a little more, getting him wet enough so I could slip onto him with ease. Steadily, I lowered myself onto Raffaele, breath hitching at how big he was.
I'll never get used to it.
Delightful pain mixed with anticipating pleasure as I lowered myself onto his full length, and I gulped the nerves away.
My breathing was hoarse, ragged, but I didn't relent, and began rocking my hips, going slow, going steady. For balance, I pressed my left palm against the wall, set my right against his chest, gripping lightly.
Raffaele ran warm fingers down the line of my back, trailing them up slowly, then drifting them down even slower. It was soothing, and I revelled in how his touch relieved the tension in my muscles, kneading and massaging my back in swift traces. His other hand gripped my wrist, the one pressed against the wall above his head, and he rubbed his palm around the skin of my forearm, his physical touch making me tingle.
I rotated steady hips against his body, his size only filling me up more. I was yet to adapt, breathing heavily above him, eyes shut tight. The skin of his chest under my other hand was hot, moist, and I gripped his shoulder, released, then tracked my fingers along the dip of his collar, moving them over to cup his chin.
Raffaele brought his second hand around my back, running the same calming patterns over the deep curve, the feeling making my body shiver. I sighed, warming up a little, and moved below with movements just as languorous as before.
My eyes peeled open, meeting his gaze. Though they were dark, green eyes completely hooded, I could still find in his gaze a sort of welcoming warmth, one that gave me the green light. It told me that he was okay with me being in control. His eyes were giving me permission to take him, all of him, mind, body and soul.
There was a different vibe to his need today—he didn't just want to have sex. It's like he was yearning for the feeling, the emotion.
A vice that was most definitely dangerous.
I traced the pad of my thumb over his bottom lip, gently pulling it open. His fingers on my back moved at the same pace, drawing tender patterns. He kissed my thumb, brought it between the small space of his lips and tugged lightly, sucking the top of my finger with mild affection.
Once I'd felt my tightness adjust, felt the familiar pull in my stomach bring me pleasure instead of discomfort, my body relaxed. I rose my hips higher, and curved them down with a steady force. I brought my other hand to press against his shoulder for support, gyrating against him at a torturous pace.
Eyes closed, I threw my head back and breathed out a lengthy moan. Raffaele continued to rub my back, not stopping for a second. His strong hands caressing my back contrasted deliciously with the motion below, and as his hands slowed, my stamina increased, bouncing above him in just speed.
"Fuck..."
He groaned, subsequently dragging harsh nails down my back and I hissed, going faster, pressing tighter. I brought heated lips down to kiss his, mashing my mouth against his own that were already insanely swollen. I bobbed hastily, hips gyrating in rapid swings and circles as I kissed him hard.
Raffaele's hands fell down to my ass, cupping firmly. His grip would tighten each time I raised myself, tip sitting just at my entrance. He would clutch my butt so tight that his nails bit the skin whenever he slammed me back down onto him, the contact vibrating all over my body, all over his, and making the two of us moan out our pleasure.
Pulling myself away, Raffaele looked for my hand and held it, looking me in the eye as I fucked him, swirls of green and grey droopy, but unblinking. He intertwined needy fingers into my own, tugging my hand closer and kissing my knuckles.
I had him justly figured out by now, and I knew that every time he licked his lips, nostrils flared, it meant that he wanted to suck my nipples, tease my breasts.
Head raised in the direction of my chest, mouth breathing out his passion, I pressed my right hand onto his chin and pushed his face back down, swaying dancing hips around his throbbing member. He groaned, eyes coming to a tired close.
"Sei incredibile..." He murmured, bringing the free hand to cup my ass again.
Enjoying the control, I sat straighter on bent knees, flicked my hair to my back and gazed down at him, bearing leering over his vulnerability. Still moving, I ushered his hand to my boob, using my own to guide in pinching the erect buds. Gladly, he rolled my mound around in his fingers, pulling it forward and causing me to moan.
I rocked, slammed myself back down, and he called out my name.
I had Raffaele begging for more with the way I toyed with him, dancing over his cock to get him heated. I'd lift myself, then thrust once down onto him, making him heed for release as I rolled leaden hips around his length. The game was deliberate, and I had no problem playing it over and over again.
"You're a tease..." He said, chuckling roughly.
Raffaele ran his palm over the skin of my ass, smacked it once. It was sensational, connecting with my core and making my clit pulse. I gulped hard, swallowing my moans. The electricity zapped all around my body, meeting my nipples too, making them throb in fervour, and pulse just like the passion between my legs.
I shook my head, body moving in that familiar slow pace again, the one that had him looking at me with hazy eyes, moans breathy. "You get me just as heated babe..."
Fed up with my own game, I placed firm hands onto Raffaele's chest, feeling his skin. He sighed at the burn of my fingertips, the single touch making him buck his own hips upward. I lowered my head, decorating his sweaty skin with open-mouthed kisses. I moaned into chest, moving up and down, side to side, connecting with him in the most sensual way.
"Merda..." Raffaele breathed out, rough hands banding around my waist. He gripped tight, sinking sharp fingernails into my back again. "Ti senti così bene..." (you feel so good)
I rocked faster, skin clapping as I bounced higher into the air. My ass curled in response, vibrating with each sudden drop. I ripped my lips away from Raffaele's skin, brought myself to sit up. I arched my back into his raised legs, leaning against his knees, and brought a hand to rub my clit, moaning loudly.
Raffaele gripped the bottom curve of my waist, forcing me up, then relatively slamming me down.
"Oh fuck!" I hissed when his grip strained, moving my body back and forth in sharp, fleeting movements. I reeled against his cock, felt him poke me even deeper, and simultaneously rubbed myself harder at the response.
I used my other hand to knead my breasts, pinching my buds and continually gyrating below as Raffaele bruised the skin above my hips.
I felt it rise, clenched my walls tighter around him, riding him harder, faster, and waited out his orgasm. It came in ripples, and he groaned out his pleasure, hips bucking deeper into me as he tried to hold back just how hard it had hit him.
Raffaele came in excess, and I followed shortly after, screaming his name.
I fell onto him once the last remaining drops of my orgasm sheathed his length, wetness dripping down messily and spilling onto the space between us.
He breathed in my ear, brought the same soft hands to trace my back, and I sighed, nuzzling his neck.
"I should lead us more often..."
His laugh bounced off the walls, chest vibrating beneath me. "Sì, amore mio."