Chapter Nine
Renzo
WE STARE AT one another in silence that pulses through me like a drum roll. My mind is racing, tumbling over itself like a dog getting tangled up in its lead before a walk. I’m incapable of rational thought.
‘What is it?’ she says hoarsely. ‘Don’t you want me?’
I laugh then because I am literally made of wanting. Every fibre of my being is shivering with a hunger that shocks me with its intensity.
‘Yes, I want you, but I don’t want to take advantage of you.’ What I want is to smooth out those two pinching lines between her eyebrows and tell her that the men she’d been with were crap in bed. That sex requires trust, and she can trust me.
‘What if I want to take advantage of you?’
She looks at me as she speaks, and I don’t know which is more intoxicating—the boldness of that statement or her naked body.
‘You made it work before. Made me work.’
There is something lost in her voice, a mix of hope and trust that roughens my voice. ‘You do work, tesoro.’ I glance down at her curving breasts and the flare of her hips. She is a work of art.
Her eyes find mine and I can’t help myself. I reach out and smooth that crease between her eyebrows, then run my knuckles against her cheekbone.
‘I don’t want to fake it with you. I want it to be like the first time.’
My blood thuds in my veins. ‘I want that too.’
As she nods, I slide my hand through her hair, pull her closer and kiss her softly on the mouth.
My whole life I’ve wanted, needed, to be in control.
Particularly with this woman. But now I want to be her servant.
I want to do anything, everything, she wants.
I want to give her control and it’s a different, new kind of pleasure to know that she wants me, trusts me to do that.
‘Tell me what you like. Or, if you can’t tell me, show me, and we’ll take it from there,’ I whisper against her throat, and she reaches for my shirt and pulls it up over my head. Her hands move over my stomach and chest as I tease the upper bow of her lip with my tongue.
We kiss back and forth, softly then deeply, and it’s like sipping fine wine. Then she tugs at the top button of my trousers and after a short struggle they join my shirt on the floor.
‘You do want me,’ she says. I stare down at where my erection is pushing up through the waistband of my trunks and I nod, close the distance between our mouths and let her taste my hunger.
‘Okay?’ I ask as I feel her shiver.
‘Cold.’ She bites her lip. ‘A bit nervous, maybe.’
‘We can just kiss. Or we don’t even have to do that. We can figure it out…and you can change your mind, Hennessy. Any time.’
‘I haven’t. Have you?’ Her mouth is trembling slightly, maybe from desire, nerves or both, and for a few half-seconds I try to imagine a world where I would change my mind and get dressed and walk away from Hennessy. And then I shake my head slowly, deliberately, so that there can be no confusion.
My breath punches past my ‘No,’ as she drops to her knees and presses her lips lightly against the length of my cock, and I reach out to steady myself as she takes the head in her mouth.
Her hands are moving over my thighs as she draws down my underwear.
The touch of her fingertips, combined with the warmth of her mouth and the sounds she makes as she licks me, make me shake inside.
I grunt as she pulls back. I pull her to her feet, and we kiss the same way as before, back and forth, softer then deeper.
‘Can we try something else?’ There is a rasp to her voice and her breath is hot against my mouth. I kiss her hungrily. ‘Tell me. Show me. I want to learn what you like, what you want. I want to learn you…’
She takes a step back, rests her hands on the top of the dressing table and spreads her legs slightly.
I drop to my knees, and I kiss her softly between her thighs.
Her hand stiffens against my head, and I wait, wait for her fingers to soften, then I lift my chin and anchor my mouth to her slick heat.
She is breathing scratchily, and her body is trembling, vibrating like a telegraph wire. I taste the salt as I lick her. My hands cup her bottom, and I lift her slightly, spreading her legs, flicking my tongue over the hard pebble of her clitoris so that she arches deeper into my mouth.
Her fingers tighten in my hair, and she pulls me to my feet.
We kiss again as I let her tug me towards the bed.
As we fall back against the mattress, I stroke between her legs, feeling her pulse beat in my hand.
Then I lower my hips so that the hard press of my erection is trapped between her stomach and mine.
Sucking in a breath, I ease backwards a fraction and slow the pace, because this is where she lost her way last time.
Hennessy
I can see the tension in his face, the concentration, and I want to cry because he is taking so much care. I know that he must have sensed that I was tense when we did this last time. I feel the shadows seeping across the bed. My pulse is growing hazy, and static starts to fill my head.
‘I’m losing you.’
His voice cuts through the noise, and I stare up into his dark eyes. He cups my cheek, kisses me softly on the mouth and rolls over, taking me with him so that I straddle his hips.
‘I’m here. You’re safe,’ he says softly. ‘And I’m not going anywhere.’
The panic lapping at my senses recedes and I nod slowly. ‘I don’t know if I can…’
‘I know. But we don’t have to do everything right now. We can slow right down.’
He reaches up and pinches my nipples gently and I let out a staccato breath. Now he caresses my breasts, his hands lingering on my skin so that it tingles, sparkles almost, and I want him to keep touching me. I need more. I am nothing but need, and I lower my hips so that I can feel how hard he is.
A noise rises low in my throat, a scrape of hunger, and his pupils snap like an electric current is passing through him. He stares at me as if he is transfixed.
‘Is this okay? I can stop.’
‘Don’t stop.’ My blood is roaring in my ears. He is smooth and hard like stone, and the feel of him, the hardness and the heat, are everything I want.
‘Hennessy…’
My name is a hiss in his mouth, and I need him to be closer.
I pull at his shoulders, and he understands immediately, just as if my wish is his command.
He pushes off the mattress so that he is sitting upright, and my nipples are grazing his chest. I reach for his shoulders and his hands grip my waist, and I lean into his neck, moaning into his skin.
Then he captures my breasts and circles the nipples with his tongue, sucking first one then the other into his warm, wet mouth.
I am trembling all over, blurring at the edges, dizzy, and something charged is flickering inside me.
He is so hard and impossibly big, bigger than before, and that I have this power over him is intoxicating.
I buck against him jerkily in a spasm that is intense and involuntary because I am no longer in control of my body, my limbs.
Heat is rising, melting me from the inside out, liquefying my bones, and I can feel Renzo pulling me closer, clutching me to him as if I am the treasure he called me earlier.
He rolls his hips against mine, his breath raw and urgent in my ear, and I cling to his body as he swells inside me, grinding against him, desperate for him to fill the ache that is stretching me apart.
My shoulder blades meet as my back arches, and everything but Renzo is beyond my vision, my comprehension.
For a shattering half-second I cannot breathe, think or do anything but allow myself to be buffeted by shockwaves.
The pleasure is like a supernova exploding.
It is bright and burning hot, and it’s too much and not enough.
The heat of it licks over my body, searing everything in its path, and I am engulfed.
Renzo’s hand is tight in my hair, and I feel him go, his fingers gripping me. I pull him closer, clinging to him as his breath rolls over my skin in hot, shuddering waves. Maybe that’s why I feel as if I’ve drowned.
He is flailing too, his other hand grabbing blindly for me as if I am the only thing keeping him afloat.
‘Was that…? Did you…?’
For a moment, I can’t answer. I am lost in his closeness, and the size of his pupils and the way his hand circles my wrists, as if he is unable to let go of.
And I just nod, because I am crying. Because it was, and I did, and I know now that what happened in New York wasn’t a one-off.
I can stop the shadows and silence the noise. I’m not broken.
‘You’re crying.’
‘I’m sorry… I’m not sad. I just didn’t think, I didn’t know if…’
‘I know.’ He kisses my eyes, my cheeks, my throat, and now I cling to him because I don’t want to let him go. I never want this moment to end.
His mouth finds mine. ‘Are you okay?’
‘I’m amazing.’
‘You are.’ He touches my face and his forehead creases. ‘What is it?’
‘I meant to say “amazed”, but my brain isn’t working.
’ I lean into his shoulder, laughing, and then he laughs against my mouth, and we kiss.
I don’t know what is more perfect—the lingering buzz of my orgasm or the sound of Renzo’s laughter.
I just know that I have never been happier.
‘I think you got it right the first time.’
There is a note in his voice I’ve never heard before.
He sounds at ease, relaxed, young. And he is young, younger than the persona he typically projects.
Only it’s hard to remember that because he is always such a grown-up.
Even when he was the age I am now he seemed like an adult in a way that neither of my parents has ever achieved.
His arm tightens around my waist, and he shifts my weight so that I am looking up into his eyes.
‘I need a shower. Do you wanna join me?’ he says softly. ‘Or shall we grab breakfast first? Or just stay in bed.’