19. Francesca
It was a simple question. The name was on the tip of my tongue, and I had a feeling Cassio knew exactly who it was.
Yet I couldn’t say it.
All I wanted was for Cassio to put a bullet through Donato’s head. I didn’t care what it made me, but if I told Cassio the truth, he was going to leave me. It was foolish, but I was desperate for closeness. Just the thought of him leaving me alone made my stomach twist.
“Francesca,” he called me back to reality, and I opened my eyes to find him staring. There was a fire in his eyes that I hadn’t noticed before. “Who did this to you?”
This time his entire hand rested against my skin. Cassio was warm, almost blazing, and like a cat, I leaned into it, seeking his comfort. Yearning for his touch. I pretended nothing had ever happened between us. Pretended it was just Cassio and me. The past was forgotten.
I didn’t answer.
“One name.”
“I can’t,” I whispered.
His hand left my face, and my make-believe moment was severed, the bubble burst, making me shiver. My body weighed a ton and all I wanted to do was wrap myself in a cocoon and sleep forever.
There was no reason to remain here in his apartment. He had come when I called, and I was thankful for that. Cassio had saved me yet again.
“Why can’t you give me an answer, Francesca?” He sounded angrier now.
Both of his hands cupped my cheeks as he came to stand between my legs, his mouth inches from mine. I inhaled him—his scent was addictive, and I breathed again.
I acted before I could think. I closed the distance between us and smashed my lips against his. The kiss was shy and awkward, and I realized I was the only one kissing. Then, finally, his lips moved, and the kiss wasn’t gentle anymore. His grip on my face tightened and I flinched slightly.
“Shit,” he took a step back letting go of me as if I burned him. “Francesca.” He shook his head.
I pulled his shirt to bring him closer and kissed him again. This time it was hungrier, he didn’t hesitate. I matched his pace, kissing Cassio with my entire being. Lips, tongue, and soul. I was desperate for him. For his intoxicating taste. I bit his lip and pulled it slightly. Cassio groaned deep in his throat. One of his hands slipped to my neck and he pulled my hair, changing the angle of our kiss.
He consumed me, heat traveled through my body and settled between my legs. I had never felt this kind of pleasure before, my body had never been so out of control.
Cassio kissed my lips, then my jaw, and nibbled my ear, breathing me in. “You’re playing with fire, Principessa,” he groaned low in his throat.
“Then I’ll gladly burn.” I closed my eyes as he sucked on a particularly sensitive spot, leaving another mark on my skin. “Cassio,” I moaned as pleasure boiled my blood.
Cassio pressed in closer and used both hands to pull me flush against him. I could sense his heartbeat. It was fast and violent—he wanted me. His hand slipped beneath my shirt and gripped my waist. Electricity coursed through my veins, causing my skin to tighten and my nipples to pebble. My breasts grew heavy, and my core tightened.
Cassio massaged my skin and kissed me, slowly he trailed upward until his thumb caressed one of my aching nipples. I sucked in a deep breath as pleasure shot through my body. He grinned like a feral cat, but then he looked at my face and let go.
He took a step back then another, until he had put a good distance between us. Cassio shook his head and then wiped his lips like he needed to remove my taste from his mouth.
“No.” He raised his finger and pointed at me. He looked at the ceiling and then at me again like he was fighting an inner battle. “I’m not doing this,” he announced.
My heart skipped a beat and my jaw almost dropped to the floor. I was mortified. Ashamed. Embarrassed, but mostly I was starting to regret what I did.
“You don’t want me,” he said, running his fingers through his hair. “You just don’t want to be alone. You’re confused,” Cassio stated. “I’m not a good man, but I don’t take advantage of women.”
“Cassio, I?— “
“Don’t, Francesca.” He stopped me. “You can stay here tonight, I’ll take you home tomorrow, or when you’re ready,” he said and then left me.
I lay in bed replaying the kiss. It had been as it used to be between us. I touched my lips; they were still swollen. I still ached between my legs. With Paolo, sex had never been about me. It had always been about him and what he wanted. To me, sex was an obligation, but tonight it had almost been more.
Was Cassio, right? Did I kiss him only to make him stay with me? To a small amount, yes. I was scared to be lonely, but there was another part of me that wanted him. Even after everything that happened between us, I still wanted him. Physically. This had nothing to do with feelings. I was still angry at Cassio—and I might never forgive him—but I wanted him.
I pulled the covers and walked determinedly toward his room; this time I didn’t hesitate to knock on his door. I slapped the poor thing repeatedly. Cassio opened and pulled it open with force.
“France—”
“You were wrong.” I side-stepped him and entered his room. “You were wrong, Cassio.” I turned to face him.
“Francesca, don’t,” he warned me, but I was way beyond listening.
I took a step toward him.
“You don’t know what you’re doing, Francesca.” But he took a step closer, too. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”
The space between us ended and I looked up into his eyes. “I do, Cassio. I know exactly what I want.”
His arctic green eyes began to shift before me, the black of his pupils bled into his irises. His long lashes lowered as he watched me. He wanted this; I knew he did.
Cassio cupped my neck and brought me even closer until our bodies were flush together. “Francesca,” he groaned out my name. “You need to get out right now.”
“No.” I stood my ground. “I want you, Cassio,” I confessed.
He shook his head. “You want comfort and someone to hold you,” he spoke against my lips. “Things I cannot give you.”
Can’t or won’t, I wanted to ask. “I don’t want that.” And it was the truth. “I want you to make me feel good.”
I had no doubt Cassio could. Sex with him must be stellar. Out of this world. When we dated, we had agreed to wait until our marriage—as was the custom, but we had tried a few things. Cassio had thought me what pleasure was, had given me the opportunity to feel it before I was married to Paolo. And thanks to him I knew sex could be good. Now there was no more reason to wait. I wanted a taste of the forbidden fruit, even if it sent me straight to Hell.
He smirked and used his other hand to remove the strands of my hair from my face. “Oh, Principessa,” he mused and pulled on my lower lip. “I’m going to count till ten and if you’re not gone by then…” he warned me. “One.” He began.
I shook my head. “I’m not leaving.”
“Two.” He let go of and took a step back.
“Cassio,” I called.
“Three.”
“I said I’m not leaving.”
“Francesca,” It sounded almost pleading. “Four.”
I stood my ground.
“Five. Six. Seven.” His eyes twinkled with desire. “Eight. Nine.” He stopped and I lifted my chin in a dare. “Ten.” He enunciated with finality. He looked at me like a lion that circled its prey. “I’m going to tell you how this is going to play out,” he instructed, causing my skin to pebble.
He grabbed my hair and pulled it back until I was looking at him, neck straining. My body rested against his and then I felt him pressed against me. Cassio was hard.
“I have dreamed about this for so long, Francesca. You have plagued my mind day and night.” He pulled my hair and kissed my exposed neck. “I have played this out so many times…in so many ways,” he mused.
All I could hear was the loud beating of my heart in my ear. My head was spinning with desire, my skin burning. “Are you going to talk all night?”
He chuckled. “I have waited too long for this, it’s only fair that you suffer, too,” I whined as he let go of me.
I couldn’t take it any longer, my entire body was going to combust if he didn’t do something. Cassio stepped away and headed toward the lights.
“No.” I stopped him. “Leave them off.”
“Why the fuck would I?”
I looked away. Two fingers lifted my chin. “Francesca, why would I leave them off?” I didn’t answer. “Francesca?”
“Please.”
“We are not doing this until you tell me why.” He stood his ground.
“Because Cassio…because,” I answered.
Because it’s how it had always been with Paolo, how he turned off the lights because he didn’t want to see my tears or the hollowness in my eyes. Or rather, he didn’t want to see how young his wife was, how inexperienced and highly repulsed she was.
“It’s him, isn’t it?”
I nodded.
“Fuck, Francesca.” He let go and turned the lights on regardless. “I’m not Paolo. He isn’t here. I am. And I’ve waited too long not to see you.” He strode toward me.
Caressing my collarbone gently he said, “You were always breathtaking, Francesca.” My eyes found his. “Trust me in this, your beauty is astonishing, the kind men would go to war for. The stars and the moon, and even the sun pale in comparison to you.”
I sucked in a deep breath, deeply affected by his words. Cassio always knew how to make me feel like the world belonged to me. The only problem was, he also had the power to destroy it.
I didn’t want this to be about feelings. This was supposed to be carnal, just sex, and nothing else. So, I got on the tip of my toes and kissed him.
Cassio lifted me up, his large hands cradling my ass, and carried me toward his bed. He dropped me gently and prowled towards me, a smile painted his lips as he removed a strand of hair from my face.
“You have no idea how long I have waited for you, Francesca.” He caressed my cheeks.
God, I knew. I knew it because I had been waiting for this, too. “I want you to kiss me,” I confessed.
Cassio smirked, and leaned down to capture my lips, the kiss was slow at first and got more momentum as we lost ourselves in it. He cupped my cheeks with one hand while the other he used to caress my breast. I couldn’t help the moan from escaping my lips.
“Shirt, off, now,” he ordered.
I complied eagerly. He stared at my chest for a while and used one finger to outline my nipple. I shuddered in anticipation. Cassio pulled the straps of my bralette and pushed it down so that my boobs slipped out. He cupped them and massaged me gently.
“They are as perfect as I imagined them to be.” He twisted one of my nipples with his calloused fingers and I cried out in pleasure.
He grinned and took his time twisting and then soothing my nipples over and over again until I couldn’t help but squirm. “Cassio,” I begged not knowing what I wanted but knowing I needed more.
“Yes, Principessa?” He seemed completely lost in my breasts.
“I…I need more,” My cheeks blazed.
He leaned down and captured one nipple into his mouth. The wetness and the heat made my head go blank, and I arched my back.
Cassio looked up at me, and I could feel him smiling. He reached under me and expertly unclasped my bra and helped me out of it.
“Beautiful.” He kissed my collarbone. “Exquisite.” He kissed my jaw. And then he hovered over me. “I’m going to fuck you hard, and you’re going to take me. I want every person in this building to hear it, do you understand?”
I nodded in a daze.
“Good girl.” He kissed my lip.
Then he began kissing down my body, starting with my nipples, down my ribs, and to my belly button—wherever his lips went, his hands followed. My skin was tight and pebbled while my insides burned, making it hard to think straight.
What was he doing to me?
Cassio stopped at my navel, kissing me twice before he looked up and offered me a feral grin. I rested on my elbows and watched him, confused and transfixed.
“Cassio, what are you doing?”
“I’m going down on you,” he answered like it was obvious. I must have made a face because he frowned. “Don’t tell me he never did that.”
“No,” I emphasized, shaking my head.
“What a fucking bastard,” he cursed. “Trust me, you’ll like this very much.”
“You’re awfully sure of yourself.”
He smiled. “No, I’m awfully certain.” He reached for my button, but I tensed. “Trust me, Principessa?” he asked.
I nodded and tried to relax. He opened the button, unzipped my jeans, and removed them. That’s when it hit me. I was lying practically naked in Cassio Moretti’s bed, about to finally have sex with him.
Memories of the last time we were naked together in bed invaded my head and the butterflies in my stomach took flight. We hadn’t had sex, because we wanted to wait, but he had showed me there was more to it than sex.
When I came back to reality, he was removing my panties. I tensed again. He didn’t seem annoyed, instead, he moved back and looked at me. “Sorry.” I couldn’t help but apologize.
“It’s okay,” he assured me. “let’s do something else.” He prowled upwards again and began kissing me. He played with my breasts and massaged me until I was squirming. I felt one of his hands slip down and before I tensed again, he kissed me just as he fingers slipped in between my legs.
I gasped.
The sensation had me traveling back to that night five years ago, when he had touched me for the first time. Just as it had been then, the sensation was exquisite. He kept on touching my clit repeatedly through the fabric of my panties, his fingers moving from side to side adding a bit of pressure with each touch. Before I noticed, I was melting.
“There you go,” he whispered against my feverish skin.
Cassio pulled my drenched panties aside and the second his fingers came in contact with my bare skin, I moaned loudly. His fingers slipped through my folds downward toward my entrance, and he slowly eased one finger inside.
“Cassio—” I gasped.
“I know, Principessa. I know.” He watched me as he pumped his finger, in and out, in and out, the repetitive motion driving me insane.
When he added a second finger, I was so lost in the sensation that my entire body ached with the need for release. “Are you going to come all over my fingers?”
Oh God, I was.
He increased the speed, and with his thumb, he began massaging my clit. That undid me. I arched my back, bending it upward, almost breaking it. My fingers dug into the sheets as I cried out his name.
He kept on pumping his fingers even as I clenched around him, I breathed hard trying to settle down from my orgasm, but Cassio kept on working me until he slowed down and pulled his fingers from me and placed them in his mouth sucking them dry.
“Sweet like cherries,” he said and came down to kiss me.
I tasted myself in the kiss and it was one of the most erotic things I had done in the last four years.
“There’s more from where that came from, Principessa,” he said. “So much more.”
Cassio moved away from me, and I groaned in frustration, ready for another round. I rose onto my elbows to watch as he began to strip. First went his shirt and then he began removing his pants. Cassio was a god sculpted from marble. His body was deliciously on display for me to watch.
“Can I…” I swallowed hard. “Can I touch you?”
Cassio offered me his hand and pulled me up onto my knees. I knelt at the edge of the bed and stared at him, not knowing where to start. He took my hand and placed it over his chest. “Just touch me anywhere you want.”
So, I did.
I traced his defined shoulders—the scar on his left one. Then his chest and his pecs, my fingers hovering over his new scar. The one I had bandaged. It was raw and pink but healing. I placed a kiss over it.
“Does it still hurt?” I looked up at him.
He shook his head. “I’m used to the pain.” He repeated my words from earlier.
A sudden wave of anger arose in me. I wanted to hurt the man who had hurt Cassio. The reaction hit hard, and I pushed it aside worried for what it meant.
“You shouldn’t.”
“It’s our way,” he said simply. “We give our blood and our lives to the Outfit.”
I nodded because I understood him, but it didn’t mean I liked it. So, I continued drawing a path on his body. Each time my fingers ghosted over his skin, he shivered goosebumps erupting all over him.
Eventually, I got close to his briefs, and lingered there watching how his eyes fluttered and enjoying how his breath hitched. I never felt so powerful in my life. To know I was doing that to him.
Cassio stood there patiently as I rediscovered his body, much as he had done mine. Feeling bold, I slipped my hand down and cupped him through the fabric of his boxers. He sucked air through his teeth. Cassio was large and heavy, a massive difference from Paolo. It was comical even.
In my four years of marriage, I hadn’t done much, Paolo had his mistresses to do it for him. When we had sex, it was hard and fast, thankfully lasting a few minutes. Most of those times I had been drunk or drugged. “What do I do?”
“Anything, Principessa, anything is fine.”
I kept on caressing him through his briefs and eventually curiosity and desire made me grab them and pull them down. Cassio’s cock was strained against his stomach, large and imposing. He groaned loudly when I circled it with my fingers. He was soft and warm in my hand, soft like velvet. I pumped it a few times, and circled his head, enjoying the feel of him in my hands. I increased the pressure and sped up, but he placed a hand over mine, forcing me to stop.
“Later,” Cassio promised.
So, I let go and returned to inspecting his body, now trailing upward toward the black ink over his heart. I traced the intricate letters, my heart aching as I read the name tattooed on his chest.
Arabella.
I wanted to ask when he had it done, but I knew talking about her would sever this moment. Cassio had tensed while I traced her name. I looked up at him and cupped his chiseled jaw. His green lust-filled eyes met mine.
Cassio captured my mouth. This kiss was savage, like he was trying to purge his mind of dark thoughts. I couldn’t blame him. He bit my lip and grabbed my waist, throwing me back onto the bed, and climbing over me.
He kissed me leisurely like we had all the time in the world, and I pretended we did. When we pulled apart, he knelt in between my legs and rubbed my thighs up and down repeatedly.
Cassio curled his fingers around my panties and looked at me, a silent request. I nodded, and he began removing my drenched panties. I was no fully naked, he kept on rubbing my legs and slowly opened them and gazed at me.
“Beautiful, so fucking beautiful.” He leaned in and kissed the inside of my left thigh.
“I’m scared,” I confessed.
“I’ll make it good; I promise.” He kissed me slowly.
In that moment, I realized I wasn’t simply scared of what was about to happen, but I was scared by how my heart was starting to react, to his words and touches. To how he was cherishing my body as though I were a goddess. His goddess.
“I know.” I replied.
Cassio positioned himself and I felt his tip pressing against my entrance. I could sense how large he was, and I sucked in a deep breath anticipating the pain. “It won’t fit.”
“Yes, it will,” he assured me. “And you’re going to take all of me, Principessa.” He pushed in slowly, but he was too large. “All of me, Francesca.” He held me down with his body. I dug my nails into the skin of his back, as Cassio eased himself fully into me.
“Jesus,” he groaned. “You’re so fucking tight around me.” I watched as his chest rose and fell.
Cassio looked at me and I realized he was waiting for me. Despite his eagerness and need, he was waiting. He was stretching me and despite not being in pain, I wasn’t feeling any pleasure either.
“What do you need?” His concern caused my heart to clench.
“J-just… kiss me.” He did, he kissed me slowly and gently, not once moving. Slowly the pressure began to turn into pleasure. I tilted my hips upwards.
“Fuck, Francesca,” he groaned.
“I need you to move,” I begged.
Cassio eased out and then entered me again. He repeated the process until the pressure finally turned into pleasure. “I can’t go slow.”
“Then don’t.” I moved my hips upward as I started to feel the beginnings of an orgasm.
Cassio pushed into me repeatedly, increasing the speed with each thrust. My nails kept digging into his skin. I gripped his hair and bit his shoulder, anything to tether me to this moment because I was slowly losing all sense of myself.
I was combusting from within. Burning. “You feel so good, Principessa. So, fucking good.”
“Don’t stop,” I begged.
“Couldn’t, even if I fucking wanted to.” He thrust in deep, hitting my G-spot.
I cried out as it hit me suddenly, so hard, I saw stars. I had never felt anything like that. Never. “Oh, God.”
“God is not here, Francesca.” He bit my neck. “I’m the one doing this to you.”
“Cassio,” I moaned his name.
“Good girl.” Cassio’s lips tickled my ear. “Do you think you can take more?”
I must have nodded because he flipped me over, my stomach pressed against his sheets. Cassio entered me again from behind and started pounding into me. I screamed his name into the pillow.
“No, Francesca.” He stopped. “I want to hear it.” He pulled the pillow from me. “Who’s fucking you?” he whispered against my ear. “Who, Francesca?”
“You,” I shouted. “You!” I screamed as he hit that delicious spot again.
Cassio went on and on, tirelessly, until I felt my third orgasm coming. “I c-can’t.” It was too much; I was too hyper-sensitive.
“Yes, you can, and you will.” He reached under me and flicked my clit. “Fuck, I can feel it.” He leaned down and kissed my back. His hand gripped my hips, and he flipped me again. “Open your eyes, want to watch you come all over me.” He ordered.
“I…can’t.”
“It’s an order, Francesca.” He was panting harder, too, and I knew Cassio was close.
I shouted his name as my orgasm hit me, probably waking up the entire building.
He pumped a few times into me and then I heard him groaning loudly as he reached his climax, spilling into me. Cassio fell sideways, keeping himself from suffocating me. The loss of him made me feel cold, but I was so spent, I had no strength left to move. He did instead, wrapping an arm around me, and pulling me flush against him. That’s how I fell into oblivion wrapped by his strong, protecting arms.
“Thank you,” I mumbled.