Romano De Rossi
"Feel the most for."
Now that wasn't naked at all.
Typically, I'd avoid women who wore their hearts so openly on their sleeves, who presumed I could fulfill their every emotional need. But turning away from this particular one now would be a challenge to myself. Secretly, I sensed I'd be the one coming back, hungry for answers to the myriad questions about my own emotions. And I didn't know whether to hate or appreciate this rarity.
"You see, I didn't mention my lack of experience because I thought it might put you off," she admitted, brown eyes fixed on my chest in a meaningful gaze. She often misunderstood things. "And my virginity isn't the be-all and end-all of who I am. It's really not that significant," she chuckled nervously. "It's not like it's a pact with Jesus or my future husband, so please stop looking at me as if I've made the biggest mistake of my life. This was just a decision I made out of curiosity, thrill, and boredom."
Running my tongue against my bottom lip, I stiffened in place, noticing the conflicted look in her eyes once again. Leaving her feeling this way would be irrational of me, so I closed the gap completely and placed my hands on her shoulders, trying to express that she mattered to me, at least in some way.
And I didn't have to pretend because, in a strange turn of events, her importance in my life had become apparent to me a few days ago when I felt compelled to seek her out. I couldn't shake the need for her. Every moment without her felt like a waste. And when I could make her speechless with just a stare, it sent fear to her eyes, keeping her on edge. Her smile, her stories, they were getting under my skin. Those eyes, they held a kind of serenity. And damn, the adrenaline rush was growing on me.
Whenever she was out of sight, I couldn't help but worry about her, counting down the minutes until I could have her back into my world.
Even a simpleton could tell that these feelings ran deeper than mere whims. However, given my past, I preferred to keep these emotions tightly in check.
Now that the audience faded away, now that Xenia was all that remained, I made the call to give in.
"Hey, I want this, and I want this bad, maybe even more than you do," I said in a low growl. "But it's you I'm worried about. I got this itch that once we're through, you'll be fully committed. And my track record for not playing both sides is going to drag you out."
Those words plunged her into a cyclone of contemplation. She damn well needed to think. I wasn't so self-absorbed that I'd impulsively dive into fucking her just because I desired it. Her welfare beyond today still held weight for me. So if she could—for one more damn moment—consider what she was agreeing to, she'd recognize that it was a dangerous mistake for her.
"What choices do I have?" She asked. Her eyes raided mine for sincere responses. "Will you simply walk away after today? Is that all you want?"
Even before proceeding, I knew it would be some time before I decided to walk away. Moreover, I couldn't fulfill all my desires in just one day, so I shook my head twice.
"How bad can it get?"
Here was the truth... "I can't promise you that I'll leave the Family and escape with you when things turn ugly... because they definitely will," I stated plainly. "Nor can I pretend that I'll stand up against my Family when push comes to shove. But if you ever want to break free from Ivan's grasp, from the IP, from a life of being someone's puppet, listen, I will move heaven and earth to make that happen for you."
She broke into loud sobs that was a half-cry and a half-laugh, and buried her face in my chest, rejecting that option. "If you intervene between Ivan and me, there won't be anything left of this. I don't want that."
She wasn't naive. The TIF wouldn't lift a finger to shield her from Ivan on my behalf. And I was just one man against an entire gang. If I got into trouble by getting involved—sexually—with Ivan's pawn who was supposed to be dead to my boss, I'd be a lone wolf in no time. Protecting Xenia was my personal burden, and the TIF had nothing to do with my desires as a man.
If I were to help her, I'd have to do it alone, and she'd have to deliver Ivan's head to me. No other way to pull her into my world with the strife going on around us.
Now wasn't the moment to reveal all that, not while she was unwrapping the towel from her body to make a move again.
She took my left hand, ushering it from her neck down to her chest. "If you want this, don't overthink it. I've already damned all consequences to hell."
It was what I had been hoping on.
The alcohol did nothing to bolster my already broken self control. Or maybe it was her presence itself that tore my restraint to pieces, I couldn't say for sure. All I knew was that I couldn't resist. I absolutely couldn't end this day without understanding what it was about her that had rendered me so damn unintelligent.
"I'm not sure I can handle being turned down by you one more time," Xenia choked out, "not after getting this far."
There was no turning down. I silenced her with a fast, reassuring kiss and, as she suggested, allowed myself to act without overthinking it. Xenia gripped both sides of my unbuttoned my shirt, and I guided her towards the bed in faltering steps. I managed to keep my balance, but then she gently eased me down with a soft tug.
"Are you uncomfortable?" She asked while I landed on the bed, and I shook my head, giving her a sideways glance. "Then stop acting like I'll fall apart under your touch."
She could, I thought to myself, but refrained from voicing it aloud. For once, I didn't want her to regard me with fear in her eyes. Seeing her now, relaxed and somewhat natural, I found myself liking this exchange better. Plus, I wasn't foolish enough to go all out for her first time.
"I'm not acting anything, Xenia." My nose brushed against her lips. She came on top of me, straddling and leaning forward.
Her every touch was so gentle and intimate, leaving me far lenient than I'd ever been. I forced my lips down on hers hungrily, and then she urged me to lie back again.
Without hesitation, she began to undo my belt, all the while keeping unwavering eye contact with me. There was a smile on her face, almost as if she was reassuring herself of her decision to go this far with me.
I didn't know if she was tipped off or how she had found out, but she seemed to know well that I had a weakness for blowjobs. The second she hesitated, then looked at my cock in her loose grip, she ran her tongue along it—never breaking eye contact, not for a fucking second.
Yeah, shit!
It was like she knew my most intimate secret and I had never told her about it.
I felt a chill crawl down my spine, ending with a twitch of my cock just as she got messier with the art. She was stunning, taking me in with such finesse. With each moan, I lost myself, pushing to the back of her throat, lost in pleasure.
I didn't need twenty minutes to come from this blowjob. If I let her press on with this, her skills that should have been nonexistent would mock mine.
Xenia's voice gained an edge of passion as she started muttering her lustful dialogue against my length. "Your circles of ecstasy are mine, completely mine."
I met her eager gaze, silently challenging her with a look that said, "Is that so?"
Her lip bite caused me to put a grip on her hair, too damn provocative. But hell, had to admit that she had me hooked. The doubt that once clouded her gaze vanished, leaving me dead certain she was mine for the taking. Nothing was going change that.
Her naked body pressed against mine, oozing a persuasion unmatched. Warm, fragile, yet holding an innocent undertone that only added to the dalliance. Impossible, but so very tempting.
I rolled her onto her back, taking control, pressing her into the mattress. With my shirt off, I traced my fingers down the contours of her body to her core, finding her slick and ready. No hesitation this time, just pure anticipation in her eyes.
I didn't waste a second. I teased her, basking in the sight of her writhing beneath me, clutching the sheets for dear life.
Frankly, I could not have a woman in this position without her begging for dear life. I demanded her desperation, thrusting my fingers into her mouth to taste her essence, savoring the greedy kiss that followed.
While I typically avoided comparisons, every aspect of this encounter eclipsed past experiences, imprinting itself as the epitome of devotedness. God, I mean, it fucking felt sacrilegious to entertain the thought of another woman after her.
She tasted like forbidden fruit, and I meant that in every sense. With each animated moment like this, she made every other woman seem off-limits. It was like chewing on what I couldn't swallow, but then it was too exquisite to spit out.
Xenia's moans and shudders fueled my desire as I contemplated exploring her further with my tongue. I wanted to savor every inch of her, especially the spots that hinted of mulberry, intertwined with the scent of cotton candy that had become uniquely hers.
I dug into into core with my tongue. This became a new pursuit, a hobby of sorts. It was like a game of suspense I delighted in playing. I reveled in the control, prolonging her anticipation, driving her to the brink. She was so hot — her reaction a moan to my every action.
When she tightened her legs and crawled away, panting like she'd just run a marathon, I shook my head, holding a small smile. She had no clue what she was in for, or how long the ride was going to drag on. Being the chaotic man I was, I didn't bother giving her a heads up. She'd catch on eventually.
"No, you don't turn up the heat and then bolt." My words were rough. I yanked her legs to bring her back to where where she had left. "You don't stake a claim on my pleasure zone and vanish before I'm done with you."
Her face said it all; she wanted more, and she didn't need to know how much I was dying for more too. I was rock hard, but I held back, knowing damn well this was her first rodeo.
Truth be told, if I were in her shoes, I'd be wary of myself in this reckless state. But the look of trust on Xenia's face reminded me to take things slow. And I wanted to. There was this itch to make things right, to give her the best damn experience she'd ever had.
But there was a snag. "I don't have a condom," I said, mostly to myself. This wasn't my usual haunt in the estate, and it had been ages since I brought anyone here. No way there'd be one tucked away in those drawers.
Her puzzled expression smoothed out after a moment, and she glanced down, seeming to shrug mentally. "Is that a problem for you?"
"Do you get the shots?"
She shook her head. "There hasn't been a need for it."
Obviously. Fuck. What was I thinking? "And the status of your cycle?"
"Romano, damn it! I'll handle it," impatience flickering across her face. "Just get on with it."
It was a gamble, no doubt about it. I wasn't exactly eager to become a father—especially when the mother was a question mark. But did I seem like I had a better option?
Withdrawing now was pipe dream. I reassured myself that I had it under control, closing the distance between us. I locked us in place.
I eased my weight off her slightly, planting a gentle kiss on her forehead while slowly teasing my cock into her warmth, so slow that she kept digging her heels into my back—urging me to go all the way in. But I was enjoying that desperate look on her face too much to comply
How could something so perfectly crafted be considered a sin? I pushed that thought aside. Right here, right now, she was for me, desiring me nearly as much as I desired her.
"Wrap your legs around me," I demanded, met with immediate compliance. "It's going to sting for a moment. Just breathe and brace yourself. Got it?"
She nodded twice, giving me a tender look that made it even harder to hold out. Hear raced to my groin. And with that, my eyes on every expression on her face, I thrust my entire length into her.
"Shit!" Xenia screamed, her fingers digging into my back, her teeth sinking into my arm. She squeezed her eyes shut, trembling. The way she tensed told me it did sting, more than I could have prepped her for.
The toughest part was balancing pleasure with pain. I began slowly, easing her into the experience. Her body strained as I pushed further inside. I could tell she was struggling to brace herself; taking me in as a first-timer was usually grunt work
I kissed her lips gently as she gasped, biting down on my flesh to stifle a groan. I made a mental note of that sexy gesture—her teeth sinking into my skin, a sign of pleasure and pain in equal proportions.
As I brushed aside the hair obscuring her face, my heart sank. Tears glistened in her eyes, restrained by her solid gaze. Whether from pain or pleasure, it was difficult to witness her struggle to hold back sobs, her lip bitten to stifle them.
Lifting myself slightly, I ceased my movements, but remained inside her. "Do you want me to stop?" I whispered against her lips, searching her eyes for any hint of discomfort.
Xenia shook her head, though her tears revealed a contradiction. "It's getting better." Her grip tightened around me. "I just wasn't prepared for it." She chuckled softly, but a hint of sob lingered in her voice. "I thought it would be smooth, but it's messy and complicated." She wiped away a stray tear, her fingers trembling slightly. "I just didn't expect it to hurt so much. That's all. But at least it's you, and that's something, right?"
Not knowing what else to do, I closed the gap between us and resumed with a slower pace, showering her with tender kisses in an attempt to alleviate both her physical and emotional discomfort. "Tell me when it gets better, deal?" I offered, though deep down, I knew I'd sense it when it did.
When my lips met her neck, she finally succumbed to a loud sob, unable to hold it back any longer. Her fingers remained anchored to those tender spots on my back. I was mortified, nothing had ever felt so delightful and sad, so good and terrible, so warm and cold, so sinister and angelic altogether.
"Damn it, Romano."
I gently brushed her hair away from her face, admiring her adorable expression. "Xenia."
"Why do I feel so sad and excited at the same time?"
I waited for her to release a moan before responding. "It's the rush," I tried to provide the best explanation I could muster. "The thrill of the unknown, combined with the uncertainty of leaving something behind."
"It's a beautiful feeling."
"Paradoxical experiences? The most beautiful."
Xenia was whispering, even though we were alone. "Will you make me a promise?"
I licked my lips, considering. I wasn't one to make promises anyhow, but her vulnerability made me pause. "Go ahead."
"I'm opening up to you in ways I never have before. Please, don't abuse it. care. I dread the thought of being abandoned and left to regret this. I fear feeling like I'm just a mere whore."
Violence toward her was never even on the table, especially after I had already saved her. So she didn't need to worry about me hurting her. And as for feeling like a whore, that wasn't in my nature. This was something deeper, more profound than that. I felt a need to protect it, not to tarnish it.
"What do you want right now?" I wanted answers, holding still. I couldn't expect her to think clearly with me inside her.
Xenia fought to hold back her tears, her voice quivering with emotion. "I crave every part of you. It may seem naive, considering your stance on monogamy and your marriage, but I've never experienced this intensity before. I can't bear the thought of letting go, knowing I'll never find it again."
That fear, too, resonated with me. At thirty-two, experiencing raw desire, genuine interest and real emotions for the first time just a week after my wedding to another woman was disorienting. She wasn't the only one feeling confused here.
"The last thing I'd do is hurt you," I assured her firmly. "I understand what this means to you, and I'll do everything to shield you from the darker aspects of my world."
With that, she surrendered herself completely, wrapping her legs around my waist to reinforce herself.
I felt myself falling, her warmth piercing through the cool air. Her pain from earlier had swiftly transformed into pleasure so intense, smooth, comprehensive moans slipper from her lips. Her hands roamed my body. By now, her tears had dried, her movements becoming more fluid, less strained.
Her phone rang again, lying forgotten on the floor. Neither of us made a move to answer it; we were both too consumed to let a call from Greg or anyone else ruin the moment. She didn't even seem bothered by the interruption. Consequences be damned, I admired this side of her.
Blocking out the sound, I flipped her over, pulling her waist to meet mine, and resumed with the pace I had just discovered drove her to the edge. In those next few minutes, I realized I'd wielded a sledgehammer, demolishing the foundations of my already ravaged marriage and repurposed the wreckage to fashion my own coffin.
Now, with a final whisper, I sealed my fate: "Forget the outside world. It's just you and me now."