19. Eighteen
Eighteen
Sienna
T he night’s fresh air is infused with a fragrant blend of sandalwood and musk, creating an intoxicating ambiance as I hear the soft crunch of footsteps in the sand behind me. The sound grows closer, and a moment later, Fabrizio appears, settling down beside me.
Between us, he places an elegant, expensive-looking bottle of wine and two crystal glasses, their surfaces catching the moonlight. A smile tugs at my lips as I recognize the label: Chateau Margaux. The name alone evokes memories of opulence and refined taste. Fabrizio catches my expression and offers a rare half-smile. “I brought a case since I figured you enjoy this one especially,” he says.
“Thank you,” I reply, my words sincere. I watch him from the corner of my eye as he expertly opens the bottle, his movements practiced and precise, and pours me a glass.
He’s changed into casual attire—shorts and a shirt that clings to his muscular frame. ”This place is beautiful,” I say, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between us. The house stands as a testament to elegance and tranquility, its presence almost surreal under the starlit sky.
“I bought the house for my wife as a wedding gift,” Fabrizio begins, his voice tinged with melancholy. “Yet we were here only once since the twins were born. But it was special to her.” His words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken emotions.
“Is that why you wanted to come here?” I ask, my curiosity piqued.
Fabrizio chuckles, but there’s a darkness to it, a shadow of pain. “No, definitely not. But no one knows about the property. It’s still in her name…”
I take a deep breath, staring into my glass of wine, contemplating the gravity of the moment and the glimpse of himself that he just shared. “I can’t even start to imagine the pain you went through when you lost your wife. But from my point of view, you still have everything . Forget the properties, the money, and God knows what else,” I pause, allowing my words to sink in. “ You've got a family, two wonderful kids. Don't mess that up. Don't give your children a reason to resent you in the future just because you couldn't find a way to keep living your life.”
I brace myself for his reaction, expecting a reprimand for overstepping boundaries. We aren’t friends or confidantes, and I am in no position to dictate his actions. But the anticipated outburst doesn’t come. Instead, he surprises me with a question.
“Why did you become a teacher?” he asks, his tone gentle but probing. The sudden shift in the conversation catches me off guard.
“Because I love children, and I love working with them, being around them,” I reply, the truth of my passion evident in my voice.
“And they love you.” I can hear the warmth in his words, a rare softness. “Well, at least mine adore you.” For a moment, silence envelops us, but this time it feels different—comforting, almost pleasant. The tension that once defined our interactions seems to dissipate, replaced by a newfound understanding.
“And I know what I said yesterday was not… fair,” Fabrizio continues, his voice sincere. “For what it’s worth, you would… will be a great mother.”
His words resonate deeply, leaving me momentarily speechless. In this fleeting moment, under the vast expanse of the night sky, a fragile bond forms between us. Maybe that’s why, with my gaze fixed on my glass, I tell him softly, “No, I won’t. Because I can’t have children.”
There’s a moment of complete silence, the kind that seems to stretch on forever.
“I am so—” he begins, but I cut him off sharply.
“No. Please, don’t.” I can’t bear to hear it. I don’t want his pity. Despite promising myself that I wouldn’t allow him to see me cry again, tears burn in my eyes, threatening to spill over. The suffocating weight of the revelation presses down on me once more, making it hard to breathe. I’ve always loved children; even as a little girl, I knew I wanted to be a mother. So, when I was told seven years ago that it might never happen, it felt like my world crumbled. The devastation I felt then still lingers today, as raw and painful as it was back then. Doctors, friends, and even my own inner voice had tried to convince me that time would heal the wound, but it hasn’t. The pain of saying those words out loud, or even thinking them, remains just as intense.
And usually, people don’t know how to react. They poke around, ask intrusive questions about the circumstances, and offer unsolicited opinions and advice, none of which I ever asked for or wanted to hear.
So, it’s actually a pleasant surprise that Fabrizio remains quiet beside me. Perhaps it’s because he doesn’t care enough to say anything, or maybe he understands that sometimes silence is the best comfort one can offer. I down my glass of wine rather quickly, staring out at the calm sea, illuminated only by the gentle glow of the moon. I take deep breaths, trying to shove down the newly ignited anxiety bubbling up inside me. Unfortunately, the alcohol does little to nothing to bury the unwanted feelings. I turn the empty glass in my hand, feeling its smooth surface as a distraction.
Fabrizio picks up the bottle, silently asking with a gesture if I want a refill. I hold out my glass without directly looking at him, and he fills it up before emptying the remaining wine into his own glass.
The waves gently lap against the shore, a peaceful sound that contrasts sharply with the turmoil inside me. We sit there in silence, basking in the tranquility of a beautiful night in a breathtaking locale. The stillness wraps around us, neither of us seemingly able to find the words to break it. The only sound is the gentle surge of the sea, a soothing rhythm that contrasts with the tension building between us. The moon casts a shimmering reflection on the water, creating an atmosphere that borders on romantic. I almost chuckle at the thought; Fabrizio doesn’t strike me as a man with even a single romantic bone in his body.
As the silence stretches on, it begins to gnaw at me. The presence of the hulking mass of a man sitting beside me becomes impossible to ignore. His cologne mingles with the humid sea air, filling my nostrils with each breath I take. Though our bodies don’t touch, I can feel the heat radiating from him. Or perhaps it’s the wine working its way into my system, making me feel warm. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch him. He fidgets with his glass, his jaw clenching intermittently as he stares straight ahead at nothing in particular. His glass is still more than half full when he suddenly tilts his head back and downs the dark liquid as if it were water.
Once the glass is empty, he carelessly tosses it into the sand and turns his body toward me.
The intensity in his gaze makes me gulp. Fabrizio reaches for the glass in my hand with such casual confidence that some of the liquid spills over the rim. Without a moment’s hesitation, he discards my glass as well, the crimson wine soaking into the sand where it lands. “What are you doing?” I ask, my voice barely more than a whisper. Even in the darkness, I can see the shimmering intensity in his eyes. He wets his lips, his gaze fixed on mine. “Living,” he replies simply.
The way he captures my lips with his is nothing short of spectacular. Fabrizio cups my cheek with his large hand, his thumb gently brushing back and forth, holding my lips captive. Goosebumps erupt along the length of my body as he slowly drags his tongue along my lips, his movements gentle and almost reverent.
As he parts my lips and slides his tongue inside, the unexpected level of passion sends tingling sensations shooting through my body. His kiss is a slow, lingering exploration, each movement igniting a fire within me. The moment is so intense, so consuming, that the rest of the world fades away, leaving just the two of us in this shared intimacy. Sliding my arms around his neck, I entwine my fingers in his hair, feeling the silky strands slip through my fingers as I pull him closer to me. With every passing second, the kiss deepens, and I lose myself more in the intoxicating moment. The world fades away, leaving only the sensation of his lips against mine, a fervent dance of passion. I don’t think I have ever been kissed with so much intensity in my life. No other man has ever ignited the embers within me, flames that have longed to be set ablaze, as Fabrizio does. The tingling sensation between my legs begins as a primal urge, surging up through my body, igniting my brain, and tugging at my heart with a force that feels both exhilarating and terrifying. This feeling is entirely different from anything I’ve ever experienced. It’s something new, something raw and unfiltered.
With one hand gently cradling my neck and the other firmly grasping my waist, he pulls me closer until our bodies are pressed together, chest to chest.
The heat of his skin seeps into mine, creating a connection that feels almost electric.
My lips feel swollen and tender as he pulls away momentarily, his breath hot against my skin. He carefully lowers my upper body onto the soft blanket beneath us, his movements deliberate and filled with a tenderness that makes my heart race even faster. Propped up on his elbow, he lies beside me, easing his hand under my top. His fingers trace a slow, tantalizing path over my nipple, sending shivers of pleasure through me.
When he darts his tongue back into my mouth, I can’t help but moan, the sound escaping me involuntarily as he resumes his tender caresses. “I could listen to those little sounds you make all day,” he whispers against my lips, his voice a husky murmur that sends another wave of heat through me.
The heat of the moment between us intensifies, our shared desperation growing with each flick of our tongues. Primal sounds rumble from his throat as his actions become more urgent, more frantic.
He sucks on my tongue, his need palpable as he pushes my legs apart, his touch both demanding and gentle. Shivers run down my spine as he drags his fingers down my inner thigh, each touch a promise of what’s to come. Just before he reaches the damp fabric of my panties, I place my hands on his chest and push him away, my mind racing.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my voice breathless and uncertain.
“What do you think?” His lips curl into a smirk, mischief dancing in his eyes.
“But… here?” I glance around the dark, deserted beach, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore the only witness to our intimacy.
He raises an eyebrow, looking around with casual confidence. “What’s wrong with that?”
“What if somebody sees or hears—” My words are cut off as Fabrizio silences me with another searing kiss.
“I don’t care. I just can’t wait any longer to be inside you,” he growls against my lips, his arousal evident as his cock pulses against my hip in eager anticipation. The intensity of his desire mirrors my own, and in that moment, nothing else matters but the two of us and the fire we’ve ignited. My fingers tremble with anticipation as they find the first button of his shirt, and with a sense of urgency, I begin to undress him. Each button undone reveals more of his tantalizing skin, and I spread my legs a little further, issuing an unspoken invitation. My fingertips dance across Fabrizio’s firm torso, tracing the lines of his defined muscles. They glide over his chiseled pecs, savoring the warmth of his skin, before descending to grip his erection through the soft, yielding material of his shorts. A shiver of excitement runs through me as I feel his hardness beneath my touch.
“Fuck,” he growls, his voice rough with need, a desperate edge underlying his tone. The sound makes a smile curve my lips against his as I revel in the power of his desire. Fabrizio’s hand finds its way to my core, his fingers skillfully caressing my aching nub through the damp fabric of my panties.
The sensation is electrifying, causing my breath to hitch and my heart to race. “Oh, fuck,” I gasp, my voice a mere whisper of the overwhelming pleasure coursing through me. He moves between my legs with a predatory grace, his eyes devouring the sight of my body sprawled out beneath him. His gaze is hungry, filled with a raw need that sends a thrill of anticipation through me. My chest rises and falls rapidly, my mouth watering at the sight of him freeing his erection, the promise of what’s to come driving me wild with desire. Every cell in my body is alive with an undeniable, burning need. I am ready to beg him to take me, to quench the fire raging within me. Finally, he moves my panties to the side, and with one powerful thrust, he enters me, filling me completely. The sensation is exquisite, a perfect blend of pleasure and pain that leaves me breathless. He rotates his hips, positioning himself above me, his forearms braced on either side of my head. I feel the muscles in my pussy clench around his throbbing shaft, my body instinctively seeking more friction, more of him. Slowly, he pulls out, the sensation leaving me aching and empty, only to slam back in, filling me once more with a force that makes me cry out in ecstasy.
“Oh. Yes,” I moan, throwing my head back and arching my back. My arms slide around his neck, pulling him closer as I meet each of his hard thrusts with equal fervor. His mouth claims mine, his tongue dominating, swishing back and forth in a savage dance that leaves me dizzy with pleasure.
The sounds we make together are incredible and primal. The rhythmic slapping of skin against skin, and the growls and moans that escape our lips all blend together in a symphony of raw passion. Each thrust, each touch, pushes us closer to the edge, until finally, we both reach our climax, our cries mingling in the air. As the waves of pleasure subside, he collapses beside me, his breathing ragged.
He pulls me into his arms, holding me close as we both come down from the heights of our shared ecstasy. Wrapped in his embrace, our bodies still trembling from the intensity of our lovemaking, I feel a profound sense of connection and contentment. After lingering in that serene moment for a while, silently gazing at the star-studded sky, I quietly follow Fabrizio back into the house. The stillness of the night air seems to seep into my bones, leaving me feeling a bit lost and unsure of what I am supposed to do. Standing in the middle of the bedroom, I watch as Fabrizio starts to undress, the muscles in his back rippling with each movement. There’s no rational reason why sharing a bed with a man who just fucked me, and had done so before, should make me feel so damn nervous. Yet, here I am, my heart pounding in my chest.
“Is everything alright?” he asks, his voice breaking through my turbulent thoughts.
I glance down at myself, still aware of his cum slowly dripping down my thighs. “I think I need a shower,” I respond, my voice barely above a whisper.
The warm water cascades over me, washing away the sweat, sand, and traces of our earlier encounter. As I scrub my skin clean, I can’t shake the bewilderment that’s settled over me. The sudden shift in Fabrizio’s behavior has my head spinning, making it hard to focus on anything else.
Wrapping myself up in a fluffy towel, I pad back into the bedroom, feeling refreshed but still unsettled. Fabrizio is already lying in bed as I step inside. As soon as I close the door behind me, he sits up; with the blanket gone, my eyes fall on his erection, hard and ready for another round. My mouth waters at the sight, a primal desire awakening within me as I wonder how he tastes. He reaches for my hand and pulls me towards him, positioning me between his legs. Without a word, he tugs the towel from my body and inhales deeply. His hands cup my ass cheeks, pulling me even closer until his head is buried between my breasts. The slight tingling of his tongue sends a delicious shiver down my spine and a wave of heat to my core.
I rake my hands through his hair, inhaling sharply as he licks and sucks on my nipple before pulling me onto the bed with him. “Again?” I laugh, barely having recovered from our passionate encounter on the beach.
“Apparently, I can’t get enough of you,” he says, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “That’s what you’re doing to me, woman.”
For a brief moment, we lie beside each other, breathing heavily, our bodies tangled together. I slowly reach out and run my fingertips along the dark line of his jaw. The way he looks at me, I think I see a glimpse of something special, a light under the darkness and evil he usually portrays.
I entwine my fingers in his hair and brush my lips against his as I slide my right leg around his waist. Fabrizio growls against my lips, his desire palpable. He pumps his cock a few times before guiding it to my entrance. He only pushes the head of his cock between my slickened folds before jerking me fully against his heated body, grinding his hips back and forth.
Fucking—it disregards any concept of time and space. It’s messy and wild, driven by the primal need to fulfill the carnal desires shared by two people. Two bodies melting into one—that’s exactly what is happening right now, only it feels entirely different. We become a twisted mass of limbs, pushing against each other, our movements synchronized in a dance of passion. It’s hard to say where one ends and the other begins. Every fiber of my body feels like it’s on fire as an orgasm slowly builds up inside me. I close my eyes, savoring every sensation rushing through my body because this feels so fucking right.
And for a moment, I allow myself to pretend that this is something real. To pretend that this isn’t the man who blazed into a preschool classroom with a drawn gun and literally kidnapped me. To pretend that this isn’t a man I once considered a vile criminal, a monster. To pretend that it’s okay that I can no longer deny that I am slowly but surely falling in love with him.