Chapter 7 Valentina #2
When fragrant pasta, bread, and red wine arrive only minutes later, I realize how hungry I am. I dig in. Rich, comforting flavors envelop me, and the wine warms me from the inside out. We eat in silence until the tension becomes unbearable.
“Are you going to tell me your name, or should I continue calling you ‘the handsome stranger’?”
His brows disappear into his rigorous hairline as a devilish grin carves onto his mouth. It takes a moment for the truth to dawn, and when it hits, it hits hard.
I just told him I think he’s handsome.
His smile is lazy, and it makes my heart flutter. “Giovanni…” His following words are as delayed as his first. “Giovanni Caruso.”
A shiver skates across my arms when I realize I’ve heard his name before. The Caruso family is legendary in Sicily. They’re powerful, untouchable, and rumored to have their hands in everything from importing to politics.
I won’t mention the things better left unspoken.
My attempt to mask my shock is fraudulent. The playful glint that’s been firing in Giovanni’s eyes all night vanishes, replaced with a serious gaze. “Does that scare you?”
Lying crosses my mind, but I decide against it. “A little,” I admit. “But I’m unsure why it should.”
He leans back in his chair and eyes me intently. “You’re honest. I like that.”
“I don’t see the point in pretending to be something I’m not.”
Dark hair falls across his eye when he nods as if I’ve passed some sort of test. “Good. Because I don’t either.”
Once more, silence falls between us. It isn’t uncomfortable. More an unspoken understanding and mutual respect. I can’t judge him for what he does for his family. That would make me a walking contradiction. Especially today.
After finishing my meal, I sit back and enjoy the wine. The buzz it hits me with makes me a little giddy but not close to tipsy. For once, my belly is full, so the alcohol’s potency will lessen before it enters my bloodstream.
If only a full stomach could prevent my mouth from running away on me.
“Who was the woman you were with earlier?”
Giovanni coughs through the pasta suddenly trapped in his throat before he briskly swallows. “Woman?”
My defenses immediately bristle.
I detest men who can’t be honest.
When I hightail it to the exit, Giovanni shouts my name. I’m out the door and racing down the alleyway beside the restaurant before he leaves his seat.
“Valentina...” He’s so close I feel his breath on my ear.
I don’t understand how he arrived so fast. I’m not sprinting—who can in wet shoes?—but my speed is similar to the one I used earlier when I evaded him.
I nearly break my heels from the force of my steps as I desperately try to get away.
“Valentina…”
This time, he grabs hold of my wrist and yanks me back. His tug boosts the strength of my swing when I slap him hard across the face. A crack ripples the air faster than I thought possible.
I expect Giovanni to respond with as much violence. Most people would. But Giovanni only stills for a second before the most seductive grin I’ve ever seen spreads across his face.
Then, in the blink of an eye, he’s on me. His lips violently crash into mine as his fingers tangle with my hair. My protest is silenced as he thrusts his tongue past my lips and slowly strokes the roof of my mouth.
My knees buckle as all my worries fade. He kisses me with an angry aggressiveness that shouldn’t turn me on but does. It overwhelms my efforts to maintain control and leads to a swift and embarrassing defeat.
The anxiety I felt in the restaurant is insignificant compared with how I’m feeling now. I kiss him back with the passion of someone who won’t regret it later, and make no move to stop his advances as he pins me against the alley wall and pushes my underwear aside.
I’m hoping for refreshing salty air to cool the intense heat, but Giovanni’s large, authoritative hand keeps us too close for any air to get in.
As his thumb holds the material of my panties, which are drenched from his kiss, to the side, his mouth strokes, caresses, and torments me.
“Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?
” He doesn’t wait for me to answer. “Since the moment I heard you cursing at your phone.” His thumb slips away from my panties to caress my clit, and I can’t think of a single word that he wouldn’t classify as begging.
“Tell me it’s been the same for you. That I’m not the only one who’s been wandering Carlisle at all hours, searching for a needle in a haystack. ”
I don’t speak. I can’t. The strokes of his tongue are too powerful, and I won’t mention the perfect pressure of his thumb as he circles it over my clit or I’ll make a fool of myself.
A shudder rolls over my body when he bites my bottom lip before he drags his nose down the throb in my throat. Tingles pulsate through my pussy when his lips graze the shell of my ear. “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”
“It isn’t a cat,” I murmur on a moan, my voice trembling with unbridled horniness.
He laughs, and its husky vibrations strip me of all sense of normality.
I want him now more than I want anything, and I can’t wait a second longer.
Giovanni’s growl rings in my ears when I impatiently tug on his belt. I need to move this exchange forward now before I remember my prior concerns.
My impatience isn’t exclusive. Giovanni watches me with untamed lust for barely a second before the urge for skin-on-skin friction sees my back climbing the brickwork, and my legs wrapping around his waist.
“I promised myself I wouldn’t claim your pussy until its juices were dripping off my chin,” he says between long, hungry kisses.
“But you’ve got me breaking all my promises tonight.
” My clit throbs with desire as he finishes unfastening his belt.
Then the hiss of a zipper overtakes the strumming of my pulse in my ears.
“So that feast will have to wait until we’re at my penthouse. ”
I’ve been dying to find a guy to go down on me and know what he’s doing, but when Giovanni frees his cock from his trousers, nothing but panic fills my head.
He’s huge. The girth and length of a Pringles can may be a slight exaggeration, but if he wants to do that trick where he stuffs his penis inside before offering his partner a chip, he might want to lube up first. It will be a snug fit.
“Ah… I’m not sure I have what it takes to accept that without preparation.” My eyes bug more the longer I drink him in. His penis is sexy. It’s cut and glistening with pre-cum, and an envious number of veins will give it a ribbed feel. I still don’t think I can take it, though.
“I guess you’re right.” Giovanni’s rough tone coerces my eyes back to his face.
I assume his agreeance will correspond with my feet returning to the ground, so you can picture my shock when he hoists me higher up the wall.
The roughness of the brickwork scratches my back, but it isn’t painful.
It’s the same delicious scratching sensation that the stubble on his chin causes when he mushes his face with my pussy.
He wastes no time finding my clit and teasing it with urgent, hungry strokes. I shake all over and thrash my head side to side as I attempt to stave off my climax.
He circles my clit with his tongue before slowly biting down. I yelp, but it’s all a lie. The sensation roaring through me is impossible to ignore. It races heat to my cheeks and skyrockets my pulse.
While Giovanni devours me, the restaurant’s noises vanish, and I focus solely on the imminent tsunami about to engulf me.
“Oh… sweet Lord,” I moan when he strikes my clit with rapid-fire hits.
He takes me to the brink, soaring my body temperature higher than the sunbaked Sicilian countryside.
When he slips his tongue deep inside me, his nose grazes my clit, and I’m done. Grinding down hard on his mouth, I ride the furious storm with everything I have.
Giovanni’s approving growl intensifies my orgasm. It stretches for several long minutes and utterly drains me. By the time he presses his erection against my entrance, I am too weak and tired to speak.
I don’t get the chance to admire how much thicker his cock is after he went down on me. In one ardent thrust, he buries himself to the hilt. Tears burn my eyes as pain blurs with pleasure. It’s euphoric being so filled, but I’d rather it seem less like I was losing my virginity all over again.
“Work with me, dolcezza. You’ve got to open up for me so I can fuck you how you deserve to be fucked.”
Two fingers slip between my legs to toy with my clit as he slowly withdraws. I swivel my hips, opening myself to him more, before silently whining about how hollow I feel.
My gripe doesn’t last long. Giovanni slams back in before his tip can relish the salty breeze wafting in from the coast.
Pleasure spasms through me as he drives into me as if he is a savage animal in heat, rubbing my clit with the same uncivilized savagery.
As sparks of a new climax form low in my core, he pulls me away from the brickwork so the scratchiness won’t interfere with the brutal pounding he’s giving me. He fucks like an animal, and I sing his praises as if dozens of patrons enjoying overpriced pasta and wine aren’t mere feet from us.
“Oh God. Please. More.”
Those pleas couldn’t have come from me. I don’t beg during sex. Well, I do. But since they’re usually about hoping I’ll come before my bed companion, I’ve never vocalized them.
“Who, dolcezza? Who is fucking you?”
I mutter about his arrogance before giving in as if I don’t have a single brain cell. “You. You’re fucking me.”
“Yes.” His cock pulsates inside me, making me even more daft. “Me. I’m fucking you. Finally.”
He grips my ass so firmly as he pumps into me over and over that I’m certain he’ll leave a mark, but I’m too horny to care. This is the best sex I’ve ever had, and even exhausted, I’m not eager for it to end.
“This is better than anything I imagined, dolcezza. So. Much. Better.” He enunciates his last three words with brutal jerks of his hips.
The thickening of his cock when I squeeze him with my vaginal walls, and the knowledge he’s imagined this as often as I have, sets me off for the second time tonight.
I come with a roar, my orgasm crashing through me with a ferocity I’ve never felt before.
“Fuck, dolcezza,” Giovanni grunts as the spasms of my pussy cause him to lose control.
He fucks me viciously and possessively. He takes all the control, and I give it to him. It’s such a wild, bestial display that I fail to realize we didn’t use protection until it’s too late.