20. Leo
Leo
Ihated crying in front of people. Even so, it took me almost a full hour to stop.
Outside the sky had gone dark, and the moon rose over the Tuscan landscape, filling it with a soft silver glow.
And through it all, Alex was right there, his arms around me in a way that made me feel more safe and cared for than I had in years.
Over the past hour we’d somehow found our way onto the living room couch.
I was laying on my side, my head resting in Alex’s lap as his fingers worked slowly back and forth through my hair.
It was deeply comforting, and I had a feeling he was doing it unconsciously. Even so, I never wanted him to stop.
Eventually, when I’d finally stopped crying, I turned over just enough so I could look up at him.
His gaze found mine instantly and I couldn’t help the flutter in my stomach as I stared up into those blue eyes.
He was so unbelievably handsome. I don’t know how I never noticed it before.
Maybe it was because we spent our teenage years in the same house.
But now I was wide awake and very aware of just how devastating he was.
I reached up slowly, cupping the side of his jaw.
A jolt of electricity passed between us.
I knew he felt it too. And, without the need for words, he knew exactly what I wanted.
He gathered me up in his arms, pulling me close to his chest so we were nearly face to face.
Then, without a sound, he leaned down and pressed his lips to mine.
The kiss was different from the ones we’d shared in the dark.
There was no storm, no convenient shadows to hide behind, no pretense that this was something happening to us rather than something we were choosing.
His mouth was warm and certain against mine, and I tasted the wine we’d been drinking and something else underneath it… something that was just Alex.
My hands found their way to his shoulders, then down his back, pulling him closer.
I needed him closer. After weeks of uncertainty and the emotional wreckage of the past hour, I needed the solid weight of him against me, the proof that he was real and here and still holding me even though I’d just dropped a massive bomb on our fragile lives.
He pulled back just enough to breathe, his forehead resting against mine. His fingers were still in my hair, gentle and deliberate, and I could feel his heart hammering against my ribs.
“I’m sorry,” I said against his mouth. “I should have told you. I should have—”
“Shh.” He kissed me again, softer this time. “We can talk about it tomorrow. Or next week. But not right now.”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. The truth was, I didn’t want to talk about it. I wanted to stay in this moment where nothing else existed except the two of us on this couch in a house that was mine but that I’d been too afraid to claim out loud until tonight.
“Stay with me,” I whispered. “Tonight. Just... stay.”
His arms tightened around me and I felt him nod against my temple. He shifted, pulling me down so I was lying fully against his chest. One of his hands stayed in my hair while the other traced slow circles on my back through my thin shirt.
Outside, the crickets were singing their evening chorus.
The old villa settled around us with the familiar creaks and groans I’d come to know over the past week.
And in the darkness of the living room, with the moon casting everything in shades of silver and shadow, I let myself believe that maybe this could work.
That maybe the impossible thing that had started during a storm could somehow survive the daylight.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Alex said quietly, as if he could read the fear still lingering in my chest. “Not tonight. And... probably not tomorrow either.”
I pulled back just far enough to look at him. In the moonlight, his features were softer somehow, less guarded. There was something vulnerable in his expression that I’d never seen before, something that told me he was just as terrified as I was, just as uncertain about what came next.
“You’re not?” I asked.
“No.” He reached up and brushed a strand of hair away from my face, his touch lingering against my cheek. “I’m still on vacation, remember?” He paused. “And there are still a few… things I want to try with you.”
I felt heat bloom across my chest at his words, and I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corner of my mouth. After everything, the fights, the secrets, the emotional minefield we’d navigated in the past few hours, he was still here. Still wanting me. Still willing to figure this out.
“Things?” I asked, lifting an eyebrow in a way I hoped was more playful than nervous.
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he shifted slightly, his hand sliding from my cheek down to my neck, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw. His gaze was intense, focused entirely on me, and I found myself holding my breath as I waited to see what he’d do next.
“Yeah,” he said finally, his voice low and rough. “Things.”
He kissed me again, but this time it was different.
Slower. More deliberate. His mouth moved against mine with a kind of reverence that made my stomach flip, made me acutely aware of every point of contact between our bodies.
His hand at the back of my neck anchored me as he deepened the kiss, and I responded instinctively, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.
When he finally pulled away, I was breathless.
“Do you want me?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “All of me?”
His eyes went wide for a moment, his pupils dilating. At first they were filled with surprise. But then hunger took its place.
Instead of answering, his hands moved to the waistband of my shorts, and I instinctively lifted my hips to help him.
He stripped them away along with my underwear, letting my half hard cock flop free.
For a moment, I felt vulnerable. But that didn’t last long as I felt something in his jeans twitch beneath me.
“Fuck,” he breathed. “You are gorgeous.”
He sat back slightly, just enough to pull his own shirt over his head. Then his shorts. And suddenly we were both naked, the moonlight painting silver across his shoulders and chest, catching in the fine hair that trailed down toward his abdomen.
I reached for him, needing to touch him, and he came willingly, settling between my thighs.
But he didn’t rush. Instead, he took his time, his hands and mouth exploring every inch of my torso with that same focused attention I’d come to expect from him.
He kissed my collarbone, my ribs, the inside of my wrist. Each touch sent electricity coursing through my veins.
“Alex,” I breathed, needing more.
He moved lower, and I understood his intention a moment before his mouth closed around my cock.
I made a sound I couldn’t control, my hips lifting instinctively.
His hands came down on my thighs, holding me steady as he took me deeper, and I tangled my fingers in his blonde hair, marveling at the fact that this was happening.
That he was doing this to me in the living room of a house I’d bought, with no shadows to hide behind.
It was almost too much. The intimacy of it, the rawness, the fact that he looked up at me as he sucked my cock. I could see the concentration in his features, the slight furrow between his brows as he focused entirely on my pleasure.
“Wait,” I gasped, needing to slow things down before I lost control entirely. “I want... I want you to fuck me.”
He pulled back, and I could see the question in his eyes. The hesitation.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “I… I’ve never done that with a guy before.”
“Completely sure,” I said. “Just go slow, okay?”
“Do we have…” He paused, thinking for a moment. “Condoms? Lube? What do you need?”
“I don’t need them if you don’t,” I said. The truth was, I hadn’t packed to be sexually active during this trip. I figured I’d be too busy moping. However, there were other options. “There’s olive oil in the kitchen, though,” I offered.
“I’ll be right back.”
He moved with purpose, and I watched him go, his body moving through the moonlit villa with an easy grace. I lay there on the couch, my heart hammering, waiting. When he returned, he had a small bottle from the kitchen counter and what looked like a towel.
“To protect the couch,” he said, unfolding the towel and working it under my ass.
He settled back between my thighs, and I felt the warmth of him against me.
His cock was hard and ready, pressing against the inside of my leg.
He took a moment to work some of the olive oil over himself, his jaw clenched with concentration, and then he looked down at me with those blue eyes that had somehow become the most important thing in my world.
“Tell me if it hurts,” he said. “Tell me if you need me to stop.”
“I will,” I promised.
He positioned himself carefully, and I felt the blunt head of his cock press against my entrance. My heart was hammering so hard I thought it might break through my ribs. This was really happening. Alex was really about to fuck me. And I wanted it more than I’d wanted anything in a long time.
He pushed forward slowly, and I gasped at the stretch of it. It was intense, more intense than I’d anticipated, but not painful. I focused on breathing, on relaxing, on letting my body adjust to the sensation.
“Okay?” he asked, his voice tight with restraint.
“Yeah,” I managed with some effort. “Keep going.”
He continued with agonizing slowness, inch by inch, until he was buried to the hilt inside me. For a moment we both just stayed there, adjusting, breathing. His forehead came down to rest against my chest, and I felt the rapid thud of his heartbeat against my ribs.
“Fuck, Leo,” he breathed. “You feel incredible.”
“And you,” I replied, my body still acclimating to his size, “have the thickest cock I’ve ever taken.”
He chuckled at that. “Amanda had a hard time with it too.”
“Yeah well, unlike her, I’m not a wimp,” I smiled. “I never give up on a cock I want.”
He groaned at that, a sound of pure satisfaction, and I felt him shift slightly, finding a better angle.
When he started to move, it was with that same deliberate care he applied to everything, slow and measured strokes that let me feel every inch of him.
My body quickly adjusted to the sensation, and what had started as intense pressure transformed into something deeper, something that made my toes curl and my breath catch.
“More,” I whispered, needing him to understand that I could take it, that I wanted all of him.
He complied, his pace increasing gradually, his breathing becoming ragged against my chest. One of his hands found mine on the couch, and he laced our fingers together, pinning me down as he began to thrust with more purpose.
The other hand gripped my hip, holding me steady as he fucked me with a rhythm that was building toward a finale neither of us had the will to stop.
The couch creaked beneath us, the old leather protesting, but I didn’t care. All I could focus on was the feeling of him inside me, the weight of him, and the absolute certainty that this was what I’d been waiting for since the storm forced us together for the night.
“Leo,” he breathed against my skin. “I’m not going to last long.”
“Then don’t,” I said, threading my free hand through his hair. “Just cum for me.”
“Where?”
I grabbed the back of his neck, forcing him down into a kiss. I bit his lower lip, pulling back far enough so I could speak.
“Inside me.”
That, it seemed, pushed him over the edge. His movements became less controlled, more urgent, and I loved it. I loved watching him lose himself in me, loved the sounds he made, loved the way his body responded to mine. My own orgasm was building too, climbing, getting closer with every thrust.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he muttered, his hips snapping against mine with increasing desperation.
I was right there with him, my body tightening around his cock, my breath coming in short gasps.
He raised himself up slightly, changing the angle, and suddenly he was hitting my prostate, driving me over the edge in an instant.
I came hard, my body shaking as pleasure radiated outward from my core, and I felt him follow me over the edge moments later, his body going rigid as he came, his warmth flooding my insides.
For a long moment, we just lay there, tangled together, breathing hard. His weight was heavy against me, comforting in a way I hadn’t expected. I wrapped my arms around him, holding him close, not wanting this moment to end. His cock still pulsed inside me.
“Oh my god…” he started, but didn’t seem to have the words to finish.
“Pretty good, right?” I smiled, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Goddamn your cock is perfect… fuck.”
“Really?”
He was staring at me now, an earnestness in his eyes that made me smile wider.
“Yeah,” I nodded. “I mean it. Absolutely perfect.”
He carefully rolled to the side, keeping us firmly connected, one arm draped across my waist. Between the olive oil and the cum leaking out of my ass, the towel beneath us was definitely earning its keep.
I found myself smiling at the thought of Alex, the man who’d arrived in Italy broken and bitter, now lying naked on a couch with me in his arms.
“I meant what I said earlier,” he murmured into my hair. “I’m not going anywhere. Not yet anyway.”
“What about when this vacation ends?” I asked quietly, needing to know even though I was terrified of the answer.
He was quiet for a long moment. Outside, the crickets had resumed their song, and the villa settled around us with its familiar groans.
“I don’t know,” he said finally, and I appreciated the honesty of it. “But for now… let’s just enjoy ourselves, okay?”
I looked over my shoulder at my handsome stepbrother pressed against me. In the moonlight, his face was vulnerable, open in a way that was difficult for him. He reached up and brushed a strand of hair from my forehead, his touch lingering.
“Okay,” I nodded, giving him another soft kiss. I reached down, pulling his arms tight around me. Then I let out a small laugh.
“What?” he asked with a tone of worry. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I said, still smiling. “I was just thinking of Matteo.”
Alex stiffened. “Why?”
“Just that he didn’t even blink about us being stepbrothers,” I said, squeezing Alex’s forearms. “He didn’t care at all. Makes me wonder if our parents might be okay with it too.”
“Right,” Alex nodded, a smile in his voice. “And maybe Dad will become a ballerina at the ripe age of sixty-three.”
We both laughed, but I knew he was right. They probably wouldn’t understand. It was wishful thinking. However, here in Livorno, Italy, it didn’t matter what they thought. It was just me, Alex, and this villa.
We could do whatever we wanted and nobody would ever know.