Page 78 of A New Days Don

I surprise myself with how soft my voice is, but my attention on her never wavers.

“I was wondering… and it’s okay if not… I was just curious,” Mila begins to ramble, amusingly and adorably, “C-can… Can I see your… Can I see it?”

She points down to my cock, and pleasure spikes through my body as strong as if she had just put the head of my aching cock in her mouth, not asked to see my cock. It’s been nearly two decades since I last felt this nervous with a woman, but suddenly, I am aware of every little buzz of tantalizing energy around us.

My mouth goes dry, and I have to clench my jaw to keep myself focused.

“You can call it a cock, or dick, or penis if you want to get more clinical about it.” I muse in an attempt to keep my composure and not terrify her with the hungry, obsessed beast that has all but taken over my mind, soul, and body.

Mila’s blue eyes look shy as she murmurs, “May I see your cock?... Please.”

So polite.

“You never have to ask. My cock is yours.” I tell her in earnest, and she giggles, her lashes batting almost playfully.

“Take my pants off, angelo mio.” I purr, soaking up every little bit of energy she feeds me.

Chapter 32

Mila

“Take my pants off, angelo mio.” His husky voice bounces around my skull, destroying my restraint and orderly life.

My mind goes blank as I do what he asks. For the first time in six years, I act rather than think. Enjoying and living instead of running through a list of all the possible outcomes and weighing the pros and cons.

I reach with shaky hands to the button on his pants, my hands brushing the hardness that exists underneath the thin layer. My overstimulated nerves from my premature orgasm are running on fumes, but I want this. This is my choice, and I want to see it. To see all of Massimo.

Do orgasms alter your brain chemistry?

Massimo’s large, tattooed hand covers my trembling ones, and my gaze flicks up to his.

“Take a deep breath. I’m here.” He soothes. It is only then that I realize my heart is racing a million miles a minute and my breathing is as erratic.

I shouldn’t be comforted by the fact that this man, whom I met a handful of months ago, is walking me through this, but despite his deranged extracurriculars, I have never felt safer or more seen than when I am with him.

Swallowing the swath of saliva that had built up in my mouth, I do exactly as he says. Mindlessly. Unthinkingly. Utterly peacefully.

“Good girl, I’m so fucking proud of you.” Massimo murmurs, his other hand coming up to caress my cheek delicately with the back of his knuckle before tucking my dark hair behind my ear. My cheeks flush under his touch as I soak in the praise, hungry for more.

When he nods back to his crotch, I feel more at ease, my hands not shaking the way they were, and popping the button isn’t as big a task.

“You are so beautiful.” His compliments caress the lost and insecure parts of me, giving me enough confidence to continue my task. My nerves spike as I slowly pull his zipper down.

The alley flashes through my vision, my screams a distant song, and I shake my head, trying to rid it.

Massimo’s calloused hand drags my chin up to face him. I can’t hold back the subtlest of gasps at the smile on his face. Not a smirk, not a devilish grin, just an innocent smile. One that oozes his pride for me. My chest swells with the softest, most delicious emotion that I can’t quite pinpoint in this delirious state.

I keep my eyes on his dark gaze. Pulling down the zipper. With each notch in the zipper, his pupils become more and more drunk on his arousal. I feel his cock throb against my palm, and I gasp. He feels big. I know he is… I have felt and even caught a glimpse of him before, but somehow, feeling him against my hand is more surreal and intimate than in his SUV.

I press my palm against the shaft, feeling the hard member and trying to memorize every vein and what texture I can feel through the thin material of his boxers. Massimo elicits the single hottest sound I have ever heard in my life. My core floods with heat and arousal pools between my thighs, coating them.

“Ready?” He asks, our eyes still connected as I nod, hypnotically.

He takes my hands and helps me glide his pants down his body, tossing them to the floor with the rest of our forgotten clothes. His cock slaps against his stomach, the sound almost echoes in the silence of the bedroom. My gaze doesn’t stray from his, yet in my peripherals, I can see his long, hard cock lie glinting in the moonlight streaming in from the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Massimo doesn’t rush me. We both stare at each other in silence, him lying and me sitting with the outside of my thigh pressed against his now bare hip with my hand hovering above his cock.

An image flashes. My scream rings distantly in my mind.