Chapter Seven #3
For a second we both stare at one another. Her bemusedly, as if I have shapeshifted from beast to prince. Me guiltily, because my thoughts are not nice. They are raw and inappropriate.
‘I should probably get out of this dress.’
We are so close, she feels my body stiffen. I feel hers do the same. There is another quiver of silence that makes me think of bare skin and her eyes rolling back in her head…and then I come to my senses.
Or, more accurately, I block my senses and say gruffly, ‘Good idea. Let me get my laptop, and then I’ll knock us up some food.’
‘You’re cooking?’ she asks as we walk onto the terrace.
‘It’s been quite a full-on week. I thought we could both do with a quiet night in without having to talk to anyone else, so I gave the staff the night off. I was thinking of doing fresh pasta. You can help me. I’ll try not to mansplain.’
‘Yes, chef.’ She bites into her lip, and I slip a leash onto the heat building inside me as we walk into the villa. ‘But, that’ll be the second time you’ve cooked for me. I can’t do that to you.’
We walk into the sitting room. I put down my laptop on one of the small tables dotted around the room.
‘You can do anything you want to me,’ I say without thinking.
There is a stuttering beat of silence. Behind us, the sky is a ravishing swirl of pink, gold and amber, but I barely register it. All my attention is focused on Hennessy’s small, still face.
‘Anything I want,’ she repeats slowly, the words pulsing between us.
I clear my throat—try to clear my throat—but my voice sounds scratchy and rough-edged, as if it is scraping over sandpaper. ‘Anything at all.’
The shadows in the room are turning the colour of her eyes. She keeps staring at me and then her gaze sharpens into something so intent that I momentarily lose my bearings. She leans in and kisses me on the mouth, softly, and I feel the tip of her tongue snake over my lips.
‘So, I can kiss you like this…’
Her words vibrate through my skin and my breath catches as her scent climbs into my head and I nod against her mouth.
‘And I can touch you like this…’
Her hands move over my stomach, pulling at my shirt buttons, and my hands move automatically to her waist.
‘No.’ She pushes them away. ‘I want to undress you.’ Her fingers go back to the buttons but now her mouth moves to nuzzle my throat, grazing it with her teeth and I press my hands against my thighs to stop myself from pulling her closer and taking what I want.
My shirt is undone, and she drags it down my arms, lowers her mouth to my chest and kisses me softly, then licks around the nipples until I groan.
My heart is raging. Heat is drifting up and over my body.
Not being able to touch her is both accelerating my pleasure and causing me pain, actual pain. I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard.
‘Can we get naked now?’
Her question sharpens my hunger and everything—my muscles, my skin, my nerve endings; everything in me that beats and breathes—tenses and stretches towards her.
And now I reach for her, my fingers pulling clumsily at the straps of her dress.
Because I am clumsy with desire. Eager. Greedy.
Just like in New York. But that was like a dam breaking.
It was fast and febrile, and it worked in the moment, but this time I want to savour her.
But first I want her naked. She wants that too.
She is pulling at her dress, pushing it down over her hips, taking her panties with it, and I lose the ability to breathe.
All I can do is stare, because no memory does justice to the reality of Hennessy in the flesh.
I dip my head and suck one nipple, swirl my tongue over the soft point until it hardens, and then I lick a path to the other, grazing it with my teeth, feeling her shudder.
She pushes me away, her hands fumbling for my belt, and my breath staggers from my mouth in time to hers as she unzips me. I step out of my trousers, my heartbeat thundering in my ears. We are both naked now, inches apart, with nothing between us but a sliver of air.
‘Renzo…’ My name in her mouth sends shivers over my skin. Has my name ever sounded that good?
Her pupils are huge. There is feverishness to her, and I try to steady her with my hand, to slow things down, but she curls her arm round my neck and I lift her onto the sofa, scattering the cushions so that I can lie her flat.
I stare down at her, my nerve endings twitching as if I am touching an electric current.
‘You’re beautiful,’ I say, and my breath catches as she reaches down and takes my cock in her hand. Her fingers move up the shaft to smooth the straining head, and the roar in my ears gets louder.
I bat her hand away, but she is insistent. There is urgency to her touch, and I try to still my senses because I’m not going to last. But then she pushes her body up to meet mine and I am suddenly close to the summit, grasping at her hip.
‘Hennessy!’ I grunt her name, choking on the middle consonants, my breath hot and slippery.
I clasp the edge of the sofa for balance, and I thrust upwards, nipping her throat, my heartbeat punching against her breasts as I surge inside her; my body stuttering convulsively with the force of a volcanic eruption.
I am barely human. The noises I am making belong to something undomesticated. I want to lick her all over, to give her the same pleasure she is giving me, and I pull back, wincing as the cool air hits my overheated cock. Lifting her legs, I press the flat of my tongue between her thighs.
‘Yes, yes…’
But something is happening. She is making almost the same noises as before, yet it isn’t the same.
There is something performative about it, and there is tension to her limbs.
I slow, but she grabs my head and I start to lick but I feel it again—tension—as if she is bracing herself.
Only not for pleasure. This feels as if she is bracing for some kind of exposure.
She starts to arch, lunging towards my mouth, moaning. I feel her body stiffen and she gasps, her fingers biting into my shoulder.
I lift my head to where Hennessy is breathing unsteadily. Her pupils are huge and dark, only not with passion but panic. It doesn’t make sense, or maybe I just don’t want it to be true, but I think she just faked her orgasm.