Chapter 7
“I want to go home…”
Vincenzo closed his eyes and kissed her forehead.
“Then let’s go home.”
The music still echoed softly when Vincenzo and Sara left the restaurant.
The city glittered below them like a sea of golden stars. Neither of them spoke much during the descent in the panoramic elevator, but the silence was dense, charged with everything that hadn’t been said — and with everything they wanted to do to each other.
In the car, the air felt hotter. Vincenzo drove with one hand on the wheel, the other brushing her thigh over the dress, as if he couldn’t stop touching her. Sara felt the heat between her legs throbbing since the dance. Since he had whispered those dirty promises in her ear.
When the Corvette stopped in front of the house, both of them felt the same disappointment. The night had ended too quickly.
Vincenzo turned off the engine. They sat in silence for a few seconds.
“Thank you for dinner,” she said softly, her voice rough with unsatisfied desire.
He smiled, but his eyes were dark, hungry.
“You make any night feel like an unforgettable date… the kind you only live in dreams.”
“You’re really very romantic…”
“It’s natural with you.”
Her heart raced.
They both got out of the car. Vincenzo walked her to the door like a gentleman, but the way he moved — controlled, predatory — said he was at his limit.
The porch lights illuminated their faces. The wind stirred loose strands of her hair. And then the inevitable moment arrived.
The goodbye.
Neither of them wanted it.
“Good night, Sara,” he murmured, but he didn’t move. His eyes remained locked on hers, searching for any sign.
He turned to go back to the car.
Sara felt courage explode in her chest.
“Vincenzo…”
He stopped immediately.
“Yes?”
She swallowed hard. Her cheeks burned.
“Stay with me tonight?”
He went still. His heart began to beat harder.
“Please…” she continued, her voice almost a whisper. “I want you to stay.”
For a few seconds, the world stopped.
Vincenzo simply stared at her. As if he were sure he had misheard. Because that was exactly what he wanted to hear.
His dark eyes traveled over her face. And something inside him simply snapped.
All the discipline. All the self-control. All the patience he had maintained for weeks.
Vincenzo took two long strides, cupped her face with both hands, and kissed her.
The kiss came loaded with everything: longing, attraction, anxiety, absurd desire. It was rough from the very first second — tongue invading, teeth grazing her lower lip, a low moan escaping his throat when she answered with the same hunger.
Sara gripped his jacket hard, pulling him against her body.
He pushed her against the front door, one hand sliding down her waist to squeeze her ass possessively.
The kiss grew deeper, dirtier. He sucked on her tongue, bit her lower lip, then moved down to her neck, biting and sucking the sensitive skin just below her ear.
“Fuck, Sara…” he growled against her skin. “You have no idea what I want to do to you.”
“Then do it,” she whispered, breathless, her nails digging into his back over the jacket. “Vincenzo… I want you.”
That was the end of any remaining control.
He opened the door with one hand without stopping the kiss and carried her inside as if she weighed nothing.
The door slammed behind them. He pressed her against the hallway wall, his mouth descending to the neckline of her dress.
He pulled the fabric down impatiently, exposing the black lace bra.
Her nipples were already hard. He sucked one hard, his tongue circling, while his hand squeezed the other breast with controlled brutality.
Sara arched her back, moaning loudly.
“Vincenzo…”
He released her nipple with a wet pop and looked at her, his eyes black with desire.
“You’ve been this wet for me all night, haven’t you?” he murmured, his voice thick. “Since the dance. Since I told you what I wanted to do to you…”
He slipped his hand under the full skirt, up her thigh, and found her soaked panties. A satisfied sound escaped him.
“So wet… fuck. Your scent is driving me crazy…”
He pulled the fabric aside and thrust two thick fingers into her without warning. Sara cried out in pleasure, her legs trembling. He began pumping his fingers fast, his thumb circling her swollen clit while he bit her neck.
“Come on my hand,” he ordered, his fingers curling against the right spot. “Now.”
Sara came in less than a minute, her body convulsing, the moan muffled against his shoulder. Vincenzo didn’t stop. He kept fingering her through the orgasm, prolonging it, until she was shaking all over.
Then he picked her up again — easily, as if she were made to be carried by him — and climbed the stairs toward the bedroom.
In the bedroom he laid her on the bed and stripped off his own jacket and shirt with quick movements.
His body was a work of art: defined muscles, old scars, a carved abdomen.
He shoved his pants and underwear down in one motion.
His cock sprang free — thick, long, veins pulsing, the head already glistening with pre-cum.
Sara licked her lips.
Vincenzo climbed onto the bed like a predator. He yanked her dress up and tore the panties off with a sharp tug. Then he forced her legs open and buried his face between them.
He licked her as if he had been starving for months. Tongue sliding up and down, sucking her clit hard, thrusting his tongue inside her, then returning to suck and lightly bite her swollen folds. Sara writhed, pulling his hair, moaning nonstop.
“Vincenzo… I’m going to come again…”
He pushed two fingers into her while sucking her clit hard. Her orgasm was stronger than the first — she screamed, her thighs clamping around his head, her entire body shaking. He drank everything, moaning against her pussy as if it were the most delicious thing in the world.
While she was still trembling, he climbed up, positioned his cock at her wet entrance, and pushed in.
“No complaining, baby…”
Slowly at first — just the head — opening her inch by inch. Then, with one single rough thrust, he buried himself to the hilt.
Sara cried out. Vincenzo groaned loudly. He was big. He stretched her in a way that hurt and felt good at the same time.
“Fuck… so tight,” he growled, his sweaty forehead resting against hers. “So hot… so wet for me.”
He started to move. Deep, rhythmic, rough thrusts. Every time he drove in to the hilt, his hips slammed against hers with a wet, obscene sound. He held both of her wrists above her head with one hand while the other gripped her hip hard enough to leave marks.
“Look at me,” he ordered. “I want to see your eyes while I fuck you.”
Sara obeyed. Her eyes were glazed with pleasure. He sped up, fucking her hard, his cock almost pulling out completely before slamming back deep with hard, precise thrusts.
“That’s it, baby… Just like that… Soak my cock again,” he murmured against her mouth, his voice rough. “This pussy is mine. This body is mine. Understand?”
“Yes…” she moaned. “Harder… please, dear… Ooh…”
He obeyed. He flipped her onto her stomach with ease, pulled her hips up, and drove back in all at once.
He gripped her hair with one hand, pulling it back while he thrust deep and fast, the other hand delivering firm smacks to her ass — not hard enough to hurt, but enough to leave the skin pink and make her moan louder.
“That’s it… take it all,” he growled. “Come on my cock. I want to feel you squeeze while I fill you up.”
Sara came for the third time, her entire body convulsing, her pussy clenching around his cock in spasms. Vincenzo kept fucking her through the orgasm, his rhythm turning irregular.
He released her hair, gripped her hips with both hands, and fucked her with everything he had — short, deep, brutal thrusts — until he let out a guttural groan and came deep inside her, hot jets filling her while he repeated her name like a prayer.
“Sara… oh…”
He collapsed on top of her for a few seconds, his chest rising and falling rapidly, still inside her.
Without pulling out, he turned her onto her side and pulled her back against his chest, holding her from behind, still breathing hard.
Sara was still moaning softly; she was sensitive, and feeling him inside her was simply paradise.
“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, his voice still rough but now full of tenderness.
“More than okay…” she answered, sleepy and satisfied. “You were… wow…”
He laughed softly against her skin.
“I still want to do so many things with you… But for now, I just want you to rest.”
“You’re mine, Sara… I’m never letting you go,” he repeated, softer now.
Sara smiled, her eyes shining; she was too high on pleasure to understand the weight of that promise.
“My legendary prince…”
He laughed for real, a rare and beautiful sound, and held her tighter. They fell asleep like that — bodies sweaty, pressed together, him still lightly inside her, as if he never wanted to leave.
◆◆◆
Morning sunlight filtered through the bedroom curtains. The golden light spread quietly through the room.
Vincenzo opened his eyes first. For a few seconds he remained still, simply observing, trying to understand where he was — until he looked down and saw a small, sculpted body in his arms.
Sara was sleeping with her head resting on his chest. Her hair spread across the pillow. Her breathing calm. One of her hands rested over his heart as if that were the safest place in the world.
And, strangely… it really seemed to be.
He inhaled her scent, kissed the top of her head, and closed his eyes again, just enjoying it.
When Sara began to wake, she found his eyes already watching her. She smiled immediately, still sleepy.
“You’re here… or am I dreaming again?”
“I’m here, Sara…” he answered, his voice deep and affectionate. “I’m all yours…”
She laughed softly and stretched against him. The movement made his cock, already half-hard, brush against her thigh. Vincenzo’s eyes darkened and his hand lightly gripped her ass.
“Again?” she teased, biting her lip.
“With you, baby… whenever you want…” he murmured.
This time it was slower. More romantic. He laid her on her back, climbed over her, and entered her slowly, his eyes locked on hers the entire time. Deep but gentle thrusts. Lingering kisses. Hands intertwined above her head. He whispered against her mouth:
“You’re perfect… so good for me… I want to fill you with cum all day, sweetheart…”
Sara came first — a long, sweet orgasm that made her whole body tremble. Vincenzo followed soon after, coming deep once more, moaning her name low against her neck.
After a few more minutes of holding each other, he carefully pulled out, went to the bathroom, brought a warm washcloth, and cleaned her tenderly.
He kissed the marks he had left on her skin — the hickeys on her neck, the fingerprints on her hips — as if apologizing and claiming territory at the same time.
“You drive me crazy, I’m already hard again,” he confessed, returning to the bed and pulling her against his chest. “I’ve never felt this for anyone.”
“No one had ever made me come before… So… you drive me crazy too…”
Sara simply smiled and kissed his chest.
Later, she got up to prepare breakfast. Vincenzo got up right after her and watched her with his arms resting on the counter, wearing only his underwear, bare-chested. In silence.
She tied her hair up. Opened cabinets. Looked for cups. Arranged the ingredients. Everything seemed simple. Ordinary.
But to him it was completely new.
Because no one had ever taken care of him that way.
Sara set bread on the table. Poured coffee. Juice. Some fruit. When she placed a cup in front of him, Vincenzo lifted his eyes.
“Thank you, sweetheart…”
“I’m trying not to tremble from nerves,” she confessed, laughing.
He gave her an affectionate smile, the kind few people ever saw.
“You’re perfect at everything you do.”
She sat across from him. Vincenzo kept watching her while she talked about simple things — the night before, how she had missed him during the week, how her dream had been intense, but reality was a thousand times better.
And in that moment he realized something that terrified him.
He had never desired a quiet life.
He had never dreamed of normality.
He had never wanted less power, less money, less influence.
But for the first time in his life… he could imagine spending the rest of his days watching that woman make coffee in a simple kitchen. He could imagine waking up with her every day. He could imagine protecting her, loving her, belonging to her… just as she had come to belong to him.
And that terrified him.
Because it meant only one thing.
Vincenzo Salvatore was completely in love.
And for the first time in his life… there was someone he could not bear to lose.