Twenty-One
ALLISON
FOUR MONTHS AGO
A llison’s memory was too hazy to recall how she ended up here, her mind too focused on the way Angelo was stealing the very air from her lungs. All she knew was that she didn’t want him to stop.
Angelo moved back blindly, his lips never leaving hers as he led her to what she assumed must be the bed. With a growl that reverberated through her, he lifted her effortlessly, her hands instinctively gripping the back of his neck for support. His strong hands gripped the backs of her knees, holding her securely as he maneuvered them around until she was perched in his lap.
“You taste,” he broke the kiss just long enough to whisper, “so sweet, and—”
“It’s the tequila,” Allison panted, trying to catch her breath.
“It’s you ,” Angelo corrected, his voice rough with desire.
A deep groan escaped him as her fingers tangled in his soft curls, giving a sharp tug. The sound was so delicious that she did it again, just to feel his reaction.
“I need you,” Allison whined, rubbing her wet center against his clothed, impressively hard erection.
“Fuck,” Angelo groaned again, the sound low and guttural, making her drip onto his black slacks. “I can feel how wet you are for me,” he whispered against her lips, his voice thick with need.
Allison moaned in response, her fingers tightening in his hair as his hands roamed over her body with increasing urgency.
The soft strokes of his fingers against her skin sent shivers down her spine, goosebumps trailing along her arms, back, and waist as he traced her contours. Desperate to feel his skin, Allison fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, cursing under her breath as the tiny fastenings refused to cooperate. Frustrated, she finally yanked at the fabric, popping the buttons free with a satisfying sound. A soft moan of relief escaped her as she pushed the shirt off his broad shoulders, her hands immediately exploring the hard planes of his chest.
Angelo’s head snapped up from where he’d been kissing her neck, his eyes darkening with a smirk.
“Needy little thing,” he teased, though his own need was obvious in the way he quickly bunched up her dress and pulled it over her head. His eyes devoured her as she was revealed to him, his breath hitching.
“Fuck,” he exhaled, voice thick with appreciation. “ Eísai téleia .”
Allison’s brows furrowed at the unfamiliar language, but any confusion was quickly forgotten as Angelo’s hands returned to her bare skin, making her gasp with the sheer intensity of his touch.
His touch both was firm and reverent as he traced the soft curve of her waist with his fingertips, sending shivers up her spine, before sliding his hands down to cup her hips. He paused for a moment, his eyes darkening as he drank in the sight of her, exposed and vulnerable, straddling him.
“Angelo,” Allison whispered, her voice trembling with need.
He met her gaze, his eyes smoldering. “I want to memorize every inch of you,” he murmured, his voice husky with desire.
Without breaking eye contact, Angelo leaned in and pressed a slow, lingering kiss just below her collarbone. The warmth of his breath against her skin made her arch into him, desperate for more. His lips traveled down her chest, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as he explored her with a sensual intensity that made her ache for him.
Allison’s hands, restless and eager, traced the lines of his strong shoulders before slipping down to his broad chest, feeling the taut muscles beneath her fingers. She marveled at the contrast between the softness of his skin and the hard planes of his body. She ran her hands over his chest, feeling his carved abs.
The man might as well be a Greek statue.
Her fingers trailed lower, greedily teasing the waistband of his slacks, but Angelo caught her wrist with a gentle, yet firm grip.
“Not yet,” he murmured against her skin, his voice a deep rumble that sent a thrill through her. “I’m going to take my time with you.”
The promise in his words made her tremble, her breath coming faster as anticipation built within her. Angelo’s hands returned to her body, tracing slow circles along her thighs, inching higher with each pass. Every tiny movement towards her core made her hold her breath in anticipation, in pure need for this man.
When his fingers finally brushed against the drenched fabric of her panties, Allison gasped, her hips instinctively rolling toward him.
Angelo chuckled, a low, seductive sound that reverberated through her. “So eager,” he teased, his voice thick with desire.
Allison could only whimper in response, her body aching for his touch. She was on the verge of begging when Angelo finally slipped his fingers beneath the fabric, finding her positively dripping wet and ready for him.
He groaned softly, the sound vibrating against her skin as he pressed a kiss to her stomach. “This is all for me,” he murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and satisfaction.
Allison’s hands clutched at his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin as he began to explore her with slow, deliberate strokes. His fingers teased her, caressing her folds and the junction between her thighs and where she needed him most.
“Oh,” she breathed as his thumb touched her swollen clit lightly. “Fuck.”
Angelo’s mouth was suddenly back on her, lips traveling from her neck to her collarbone and back again as his thumb moved in little circles that made something tighten inside her.
Allison’s breath hitched, her body arching into him as he played her like a finely tuned instrument, each touch bringing her closer to the edge.
His other hand moved off her waist, pulling one cup of her bra down until he could access her aching nipple. He groaned as his lips wrapped around the hard nub, sucking it like a lollipop and Allison felt herself going insane.
“Angelo, please,” she gasped, her voice barely a whisper. The tension inside her was winding tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment.
He lifted his head, his eyes locking onto hers with a fierce intensity. “I’ve got you,” he whispered, his voice a soothing balm against the storm raging inside her. In contrast with his words, Angelo paused his ministrations and with a swift, practiced movement, he shifted them both, laying Allison back on the bed while he hovered above her.
His lips found hers again, claiming her in a passionate kiss that was both tender and possessive, as if he was staking his claim on her very soul.
The rest of their clothes disappeared in a frenzy of movement, and for a moment, Allison felt a wave of self-consciousness wash over her. She wasn’t what she imagined a man like Angelo would desire. Her arms were softer than she liked, her stomach not as flat as she’d wished, and her thighs had a fullness that she often felt too aware of. The anxiety-induced thoughts crept in, whispering comparisons and insecurities, making her feel like the marshmallow ghost from Ghostbusters —awkward and out of place in this moment.
Her brief moment of self-loathing vanished instantly as Angelo’s voice broke through. “Wow. You are fucking beautiful.”
His eyes roamed over her naked body with a hunger and reverence that made her heart race. For the first time in what felt like forever, Allison felt a surge of something other than anxiety. She felt powerful, desirable, and completely seen in a way that transcended her insecurities. Angelo’s gaze made her feel like she was everything he wanted, and in that moment, her self-doubt was replaced by a newfound confidence that burned bright and fierce.
“Spread your legs for me. I want to see you,” he commanded, his voice rough. Allison shivered but obeyed, parting her thighs as directed. “That’s it. So good.”
The praise struck a deep, unexplored chord within her, eliciting a moan from her lips. It was the first time a partner had spoken to her like that, and now, as Angelo leaned closer with that intense, hungry look in his eyes, she found herself yearning for him to say it again.
He moved down her body slowly, fingers and lips teasing Allison until she was panting, hands fisting the sheets to keep herself from pulling his hair out.
Once he reached the apex of her thighs, Angelo took a deep inhale and his eyes closed. Allison blushed as she realized he was smelling her arousal, like something out of a werewolf romance book. His tongue lightly stroked her dripping center, making them both moan at the same time. “Fuck, you taste so sweet. My sweet girl.”
Allison moaned in response to the nickname, and his ministrations. He kept his licks light, torturing her as his tongue moved from her entrance to her clit and back again. She whimpered, back arching off the bed as his arms wrapped around her thighs and his dominating words sank in. None of her previous lovers had been particularly talkative or possessive, especially in bed, and she suddenly realized why she hadn’t really had good past experiences. This was different, raw, and intense.
It was real.
His grip on her thighs tightened, his fingers digging into her flesh with a delicious pressure that sent a jolt of electricity through her body. Angelo moved slowly back up, his shape in the darkness appearing animalistic. His breath was hot and ragged against her ear, each exhale sending shivers down her spine.
“You’re mine, Allison. No one else gets to touch you like this,” he growled, his voice a low, commanding rumble that made her pulse race.
The intensity in his eyes was unlike anything she had ever seen as he returned to his hovering. It was as if he could see straight into her soul, claiming every part of her with that burning gaze. Her hands gripped the sheets, knuckles white, as she tried to anchor herself against the overwhelming wave of sensations.
“Say it,” Angelo demanded, his tone allowing no argument. His fingers traced fiery paths along her skin, leaving trails of heat in their wake. “I want to hear you say you’re mine.”
Her breath hitched as her intoxicated mind tried to grasp the words, but they got lost in the whirlwind of sensations. She couldn’t focus on why she shouldn’t admit it. She only knew his dominance was magnetic, pulling her deeper into a haze of desire and submission.
“I’m yours,” she finally managed to whisper, her voice barely audible, yet filled with an undeniable need.
Angelo’s eyes darkened with satisfaction, a dangerous, predatory gleam flickering in their depths. He leaned in closer again, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear.
“That’s right,” he murmured. His voice was a mix of rough command and tender affection that made her toes curl. He moved away, making his way back down her body in the same torturously slow pace. “And don’t you forget it.”
He didn’t give her the chance to respond as he dove in, devouring her pussy like a man starved. Allison moaned, a deep, primal sound that shook her soul. The man’s mouth was masterful.
Holy shit, this man has talent.
His tongue moved with purpose, each stroke pushing her closer and closer to a peak that she could only reach with his help. Angelo’s hands left her thighs, traveling up her soft stomach and stopping at her hard nipples, fondling them. Pinching, twisting and teasing.
He was driving her to that edge, and just as she was about to reach it, to pass over it, to explode—
He stopped.
“Not yet, sweet girl. You’re gonna come on my cock.”
Angelo pulled her towards him, flipping her onto her stomach. With a single hand on her hips he tugged, and Allison’s ass pushed up and out, in perfect height for him to use her cunt.
He thrust in with one movement, not even pausing for a single second and she screamed.
“Fuck, you’re too tight,” Angelo ground out, his hips unmoving as his grip on her hips tightened until she was certain she was going to bruise.
Fuck, yes.
Allison was aching, the burn delicious but punishing. She needed him to move, to trust within her until she could feel nothing but him. She wiggled slightly and Angelo groaned.
“ No . I can’t—” he cut himself off, but Allison knew what he wasn’t saying.
“Please, Angelo.”
The man growled, removing one hand from her hip to fist her hair and pull her back against his chest. “Be a good pet, Allison, and don’t fucking move.”
She didn’t. How could she? Half of it was his hold on her, the way she was flush against his body. But she could move if she wanted to, he wasn’t restricting her. No, she didn’t move because she had never been called a pet and she wanted to be called nothing else until the rest of her days.
Oh, so slowly, Angelo moved with a deliberate, controlled intensity. Each thrust, each motion, emphasized his dominance over her. Every inch of her skin seemed to burn where they touched, the sensation searing and all-consuming. Allison felt herself surrendering completely, her mind and body yielding to the powerful man behind her as he fucked her upright on the bed.
Angelo’s movements grew in speed, deep, primal sounds leaving his chest whenever he bottomed out inside her.
“ Tóso téleia, ” he murmured in the same language as earlier. “So fucking perfect for me.”
His one hand roamed over her body, exploring, claiming, the other still in her hair. With a slight pull, he moved her head to the side, leaving open-mouthed kisses on her neck, licking, sucking the soft skin.
Allison’s senses were overloaded, every nerve ending came alive with the electricity of his touch. Every moan and whimper was a testament to the pleasure coursing through her as Angelo’s pace grew relentless.
The way he moved, the way he spoke, it all made her feel more desired than she ever thought possible.
Their bodies moved together in a primal rhythm, a dance of possession and surrender. Angelo’s words, his touch, his presence, all combined to create a symphony of sensation that left Allison breathless and craving more.
In that moment, she knew that no one else could ever make her feel this way—so completely owned, so completely alive.
“God, yes,” Allison moaned, her voice echoing off the tile walls of the tiny bathroom.
After their first round—which had lasted almost forty minutes—they had decided to take a shower. Together.
The decision, at first, seemed simple enough, but they soon realized it was quite the challenge.
The hotel shower was barely big enough for one person, let alone two. The confined space forced Allison against Angelo’s chiseled body, her breasts pressing against his muscular chest, and her back sliding against the cool, wet tiles. Every movement was exaggerated in the cramped quarters, making her accidentally—or not so accidentally—rub herself on his semi-hard cock.
The not-so-accidental contact had eventually caused Angelo’s dick to firm back up to its gloriously hard state. The warmth of the water cascading over them did nothing to cool their rising desire. Each accidental brush of skin, each slippery movement, had led them to this.
Now, Angelo had Allison hoisted up by her thighs, her legs tightly wrapped around his hips. Her fingers gripped his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as he pistoned in and out of her with precise, masterful moves.
His strength and control were evident in every thrust, every slight shift of his hips. The sensation of water spraying down on them only heightened the intensity, mingling with the sweat and the slickness of their heated bodies.
Allison’s head fell back against the shower wall with a moan, the cool tiles a stark contrast to the heat building inside her. She clenched around Angelo, her breath coming in ragged gasps, matching the rhythm of his powerful thrusts.
“Not yet, sweet girl,” he commanded against her skin as she clenched around his cock once more, her climax getting dangerously close.
His hands held her firmly, fingers digging into the soft flesh of her thighs, keeping her steady as he drove deeper and harder, their bodies moving in perfect sync.
Fuck, how does he feel so good?
Water splashed around them, the sound mingling with their moans and the rhythmic slapping of skin against skin. Angelo’s lips found her neck, kissing, nibbling, adding another layer of sensation to the overwhelming pleasure that consumed them both.
Allison’s moans grew louder, her body trembling as the tension built, coiling tighter and tighter inside her.
“Angelo,” she gasped, her voice barely audible above the rush of the water, “I’m so close.”
“Me too,” he groaned, his voice thick with need.
With a final, deep thrust, Angelo sent them both over the edge. Allison cried out, her entire body tensing, then shuddering with the force of her climax. Angelo followed, his grip tightening as he filled her with his hot cum, holding her close as they rode out the waves of pleasure.
They stayed there for a moment, panting and spent, the water washing away the evidence of their passion.
Slowly, Angelo lowered Allison back onto her feet, keeping a steadying arm around her waist until she found her balance. They looked at each other, faces flushed and eyes bright with satisfaction.
“We might need some food,” Angelo panted with a grin, brushing a wet strand of hair from her face.
Allison laughed, her body still tingling from the aftershocks. “No pineapple pizza, though” she replied, leaning in to kiss him softly.
He chuckled against her lips, pulling back just enough to tease, “You think I’d order that abomination? I value my taste buds too much.”
Their kiss became hotter, burning Allison with its intensity, but her grumbling stomach made her reluctantly pull back.
“Okay, food,” she reminded both of them. Using some of the hotel’s soap, she cleaned the remnants of sex from her skin.
“I thought that’s what I was having the past hour.” Angelo smirked as he followed suit.
Allison rolled her eyes, a smile on her lips. Some of the alcohol-induced haze was starting to clear, and with it came a frenzy of nerves.
Her anxiety bubble burst when Angelo leaned towards her, dark eyes locking with her own as he reached behind her to—
Oh.
He just shut the shower off.
He grinned devilishly. “Have to save water.”
The bastard knew the effect his proximity had on her, and Allison didn’t know whether to be aroused or annoyed.
He wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped out of the tiny shower, leaving Allison alone to her thoughts, and extremely dangerous thing.
She quickly finished her own shower, wrapping a towel around herself and heading for the nightstand. She reached for the hotel room service menu, a smile forming on her lips as she felt, more than saw, Angelo’s gaze following her.
“See something you like?” she teased, looking up from the menu.
He raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t I just spend almost two hours proving how much I like you?”
“Touché,” she said, flipping through the menu. “So, what do you feel like? Something we can share, maybe?”
“Definitely. How about pasta?” Angelo suggested.
“Pasta sounds perfect,” she agreed, grabbing the hotel phone. “As long as we steer clear of any weird fruit combinations.”
“Agreed,” he said, sitting on the bed and leaning back against the plush pillows, already wearing his black underwear. He looked like he was about to be her next meal.
Allison dialed room service, her eyes never leaving Angelo’s. “Hi, we’d like to order some pasta, please. Yes, a large portion of the fettuccine Alfredo and a bottle of your finest wine. Thank you.”
She hung up the phone and sauntered over to the bed, her towel not-so-accidentally falling off along the way.
“You know,” she said, climbing onto the bed and straddling his legs. “I might just skip the pasta and go straight for dessert.”
Angelo grinned, and her core clenched around nothing as his hands found her waist. “Now that’s a menu I can get behind.”
She leaned down, her lips brushing against his ear. “Oh, I bet you can.”
Their lips met in a slow, tantalizing kiss, the anticipation building as their hands explored each other’s bodies. Angelo’s cock began pulsing beneath her, slowly hardening as she rubbed herself on him shamelessly.
Just as things were heating up, a knock on the door interrupted them. Allison groaned softly, pulling back.
“Room service is fast.”
Angelo sighed, giving her one last lingering kiss before gently nudging her off him. “Hold that thought. I’ll get the food.”
He slipped on a robe and walked to the door, returning with a tray laden with pasta, breadsticks, and the promised bottle of wine. He set it on the small table by the window, the city lights creating a romantic backdrop.
Allison grabbed the wine and took a seat back on the plush bed, pouring them each a glass.
“To meeting strangers in bars,” she toasted light-hearted, raising her glass.
“Cheers to that,” Angelo said, clinking his glass against hers.
After a third round, they both fell asleep, exhaustion taking over for them until Allison woke with Angelo’s head between her legs.
Then they fucked again, slept if off, and repeated that same routine well into the morning, each round accompanied by a few glasses of wine.
When Allison woke up the next morning, it was to the blaring sound of her phone’s alarm. She groaned, groping blindly to turn it off, only to find her phone wasn’t in its usual spot on the nightstand. With a start, she sat up, her heart rate skyrocketing as she scanned the room. Her panic only deepened when her gaze landed on the back of a sleeping figure beside her—a man whose face she couldn’t recall, a man she didn’t know at all.
Her head pounded as the alarm continued to shriek, drilling the realization of what she’d done into her aching skull.
“Oh, hell,” she muttered, squeezing her eyes shut as if that might undo the situation.
A singular thought filled her head as she left the hotel room minutes later: I hope I don’t regret this.