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I want to ask him what happened, to understand the story behind these scars, but before I can form the words, he yanks my shirt over my head. My bra quickly follows, and then his mouth is on my breasts, making me gasp. The sensation is overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and longing that makes my head spin.
God, this feels so good. It’s been so long since I last had sex. It’s hard to do so when Lou lives in the other room, and besides, no one else has been worth it.
But Angelo… he’s different. He makes me feel alive, cherished, desired in a way I haven’t felt in years.
And I’ve only known him for not even a day. Jesus Christ, what iswrongwith me?
His lips and tongue work magic on my breasts and nipples, drawing moans from deep within my chest. I arch into his touch, my fingers tangling in his hair as I pull him closer. Every kiss, every caress, sends waves of pleasure through me, making me ache for more.
“I need you,” I breathe, my voice barely more than a whisper.
He lifts his head, his eyes meeting mine with a fierce intensity. “So do I,” he says, his voice rough with desire.
His words send a thrill through me, and I pull him back to me, our mouths crashing together in a kiss that’s both desperate and tender.
Angelo’s strong arms wrap around me, lifting me effortlessly as if I weigh nothing. He strides over to my sofa bed and gently lays me down, his touch reverent. The room seems to shrink, the air thick with anticipation. He stands before me, his eyes never leaving mine as he unbuckles his belt and slides off his pants and boxers.
My mouth dries as I take in the sight of him. His body truly is a work of art—sculpted muscles, a taut abdomen, and a chest that tapers down to a narrow waist. Every inch of him exudes power and dominance. His arousal stands proud and imposing, and a shiver of delight runs through me.
Will that even fit?I wonder to myself.
Angelo’s full mouth curves into a smirk. “It’ll fit,” he says smugly, as if he could read my thoughts.
How the fuck did he know I was thinking that?
But I don’t have time to dwell on Angelo’s apparent mind-reading abilities because his hands are on my pants, helping me pull them and my panties down. The hunger in his eyes intensifies, and he lets out a hoarse whisper, “You’re beautiful,” before climbing on top of me.
His weight settles against me, grounding me in the moment. I can feel the heat of his body, the hard length of his dick pressing insistently at my entrance. He pauses, looking deep into my eyes, almost as if he’s asking for my permission to continue. The intensity of his gaze is both electrifying and comforting.
Without breaking eye contact, I reach up and pull his head down to mine, capturing his lips in a deep, urgent kiss. It’s all the answer he needs. Angelo pushes into me slowly, stretching me, filling me completely. A gasp escapes my lips, swallowed by his kiss.
He starts to move, each thrust slow and deliberate, igniting a fire deep within me. His hands roam my body, caressing, gripping, as if trying to memorize every inch of me. I wrap my legs around his waist, urging him deeper, harder. The rhythm of our bodies syncs perfectly, a dance of raw desire and need.
Every thrust sends waves of pleasure crashing through me, building higher and higher. Angelo’s name falls from my lips in a breathless chant, and his growls of pleasure only spur me on. His movements become more urgent, driven by an insatiable hunger.
“Oh, fuck, Angelo,” I moan, feeling deliciously filled as he thrusts into me, his balls slapping against my ass.
“That’s right,” Angelo snarls. “Fucking moan my name.”
As the pressure builds, my nails dig into his back, and I arch against him, meeting each powerful thrust. Angelo’s lips find my neck, his hot breath sending shivers down my spine. The coil of pleasure tightens, and with a final, deep thrust, we both shatter, falling over the edge together as I cry out.
For a moment, we remain entwined, breathing heavily, the aftershocks of our climax rippling through us. Angelo rolls off me, but before I can miss his warmth, he pulls me close to his chest. I rest my head against him, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His fingers trace lazy patterns on my back.
“I should probably leave soon,” he murmurs.
A pang of anxiety grips me, but I push it aside. “I’d rather you stay,” I say softly, not wanting this moment to end.
He chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrates through me. “What, are you afraid of the dark or something?”
I give him a playful punch on the arm. “Ha-ha. Very funny. Maybe I just enjoy your company.”
His laughter fades into a gentle smile. “Well, if you really want me to stay, how can I say no?”
“That’s what I thought,” I say teasingly, but I don’t want to tell him the truth—that I don’t want to be alone. Instead, I snuggle closer. Angelo wraps his arms around me, holding me securely.
The exhaustion from the day’s events soon lulls us into a peaceful sleep, wrapped up in each other as the world ceases to exist.
I’mfifteen years old again, the familiar excitement and nervousness of adolescence coursing through me. I’ve snuck out of the house to go to a party with friends, feeling a rush of rebellion. It’s not like my mother will care where I am. She’s too wrapped up in herself and her latest boyfriend to give a shit what I do.
