Chapter 6 Maria #2
“Fool with a heart of gold,” I said, taking my eyes off the screen and looking at him. He was sitting so close. I could feel his breath on my face. “That’s what I think you are.”
“I’ll take that any day over spoiled billionaire heir of Don Romano,” he said, leaning closer.
“That Miami thing, that wasn’t a party, was it?”
“No,” he said, leaning closer. “My friend had put all his life savings into his yacht business and wanted to sell them. The party was my idea. Do you know how many of the yachts we sold that weekend? All of them. The weeklong party was just a way to get the richest customers all in one place.”
“Not a fool, then,” I said, leaning closer. “Why didn’t you ever tell your dad the truth?”
“You think I do this for his validation? I do it so I can stand on my own two feet someday. The commission I get from those sales is enough to set me up for a few years. And I can always invest that money—”
“You know what your problem is?” I asked, putting my finger on his lips. “You think too much. You’ve got a pretty girl all to yourself at night in your personal theater, and you’re explaining your business plan to her.”
“I’m not one to take advantage of pretty girls; I should let you know,” he said, and now our faces were just a few inches away.
“It’s not taking advantage if it’s mutual,” I said, my lip quivering.
“Good, because I’ve been meaning to do this all night,” he said, leaning on me, wrapping his arm around me, pulling me in, and kissing me on the mouth.
The movie kept playing on the screen, the popcorn buckets falling on the floor, scattering popcorn everywhere.
I kissed him deeply. I sucked on his lips, and then I sucked on his tongue as he took me in his arms and laid me down in his lap.
I did not know this stranger in the morning, and yet, tonight, as I lay in his lap, feeling him getting hard underneath me, feeling his tongue trace along my tongue, I felt safe in his presence, comforted.
I did not feel alone.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Maria Thurman,” he whispered in my ear.
“Worry about yourself, Elio Romano,” I whispered back before biting his lip. He looked at me, pleasantly surprised.
I climbed on top of him, taking the stupid T-shirt off. And this time, in the dim light of the theater, I had no problem showing him myself in just a bra. I felt good, watching him gaze at my breasts. Finally, he lifted his hand up and ran it along the skin of my breasts. I stifled a moan.
In another instant, my bra was off, lying somewhere on the floor amidst all the popcorn, and my breasts were being smothered by his kisses, kneaded by his hands. I pressed his face down there, letting him lick my nipples.
I could feel myself gushing down there, and I could feel his length stiff, rubbing against me.
“I want you,” he whispered.
“Then have me,” I whispered back.
Our clothes were gone, lying in a heap, and we were two naked bodies, sweating, rubbing against each other, holding each other close.
He had tattoos all over his arms, tattoos on his chest, tattoos from an old life that he didn’t want to live anymore.
And I had not even a single drop of ink on my entire skin.
He ran his hands along my nude body, touching me tenderly, kissing me gently.
I was growing wild with desire, and I couldn’t help myself as I wrapped my fingers around his stiff cock and began stroking, feeling the rhythm of his blood throbbing in his dick’s veins. I needed him inside me.
I lifted myself up and then lowered myself on his dick, first feeling its smooth head rub against my labia, glide up to my clit, and then, finally, sliding back down and entering me.
I bit down on my lip and held him tightly as I rode him, each thrust of his cock sending maddening pleasure signals up the length of my pussy, making my whole body warm, making me dizzy with pleasure.
“Do you like me?” I asked, riding him, my boobs bobbing up and down against his face.
“I think I’m about to fall in love with you.”
Had it been anyone else who’d said it, I might have cringed. But the way he said it, with such earnestness on his face, it just made me more aroused.
And then he took control, his arm around my waist, no longer making gentle love to me but straight up fucking me. I welcomed his force, lying down on my back with the recliner reclined all the way, turning it into a makeshift bed.
I lay naked underneath him, my skin bathed in our sweat, holding my legs wide and up in the dark theater as the movie kept playing behind us.
He had a hand under my head, his eyes never leaving my eyes as he plunged and pulled and thrust, driving me crazy, making me moan louder with each thrust. I closed my eyes against the barrage of pleasure, surrendering all control to him.
He could do whatever he wanted. I may have won him in a bachelor auction, but at this moment, he owned me.
“Are you gonna cum?” he asked, thrusting deep, thrusting fast.
“I’m coming!” I moaned as I felt my entire body light up like fireworks, my pussy throbbing as a wave of orgasm traveled along its length, exhausting me, making my body relaxed.
I lay there, watching him take his cock out, stroke it, and ejaculate on my belly. The sensation of his warm cum falling on my body made me orgasm again, and I moaned one last time, my body reeling from pleasure, my body feeling the ache of our bodies parting.
This whole day had been one unforgettable experience. I got my life in danger. I entered a rich bachelor auction to save my life. I bid on a complete stranger by accident, and here I was, having finished making love to that man.
The night was far from finished. We’d snuck out of the theater in her underwear and made our way into his bedroom, not my guest bedroom. Here, we’d entered his bathroom and opened a steaming shower over ourselves.
We stood naked, surrounded by steam, our bodies lathed with soap and shower gel, our bodies clinging together, our lips locked together, water falling all over us, washing away everything.
I could feel him stirring again, and his taut cock rubbing against my thighs turned me on till all I could think about was his glistening penis, washed with soap, standing erect, its pink tip glistening, its tall length tempting.
I held it in my hand, finding it easy to stroke him with all the water and soap.
He cupped his hands on my breasts, sucking on them, kissing along the length of my neck, kissing my mouth, thrusting against the strokes of my hand, and finally lifting me in his arms and pinning me against the warm marble wall, entering me again, gently pushing himself deeper again, deeper until I could feel him, all of him, inside all of me.
I came on his cock, holding onto him for dear life. And this time, as he finished thrusting, I felt him cum inside me. When he let me go, his cum was still dripping down my pussy, running down my legs.
We did not speak. Here, being so close to each other, feeling like strangers who had known each other forever, we did not need words. We just needed each other.
I lay in his arms, both of us under the sheets in his bed, watching the sun come up behind a grove of trees.
During the house tour, he’d shown me the orchard that surrounded the entire compound.
While most of the trees were native to America, there were a few that were imported from Italy, particularly the olive ones.
I could see the sun falling on top of the olive leaves, and it was as if I was in Sicily or Tuscany.
“I’m glad I ran into that room when I did,” I said, the sun rays falling on my face.
“You don’t know how desperately I was praying,” he said.
“You pray?”
“I’m not religious or anything, but whenever I’m in a pickle, I turn my head skyward, and I pray.
I don’t know who it is I’m praying to. God, the universe, or maybe my mom’s spirit who watches over me from above.
I was just praying so hard for a way out of all this.
My Father… He’s meticulous in his methods.
Whatever he had planned for me was going to be a thousand times worse than this.
You…. I fell for you the moment I kissed you in that hotel club.
I’ve not wanted to let go of you since then.
This may be the wine speaking, or maybe because I’m super tired and don’t know what I’m saying, but I didn’t save you tonight.
You saved me. Thank you, Maria Thurman.”
“You fell for me?” I asked, feeling giddy once more despite my extreme exhaustion.
But he didn’t say anything in response.
He was already asleep, snoring gently in my ear. By now, the coffee had worn off, and I was as drowsy as someone could be.
I couldn’t care any less for my vibrating phone, or whether the news had been printed or not.
This night had been a welcome reprieve, and I wasn’t quite ready for all of this to end.
Not just yet.
I fell asleep in his arms. I fell asleep to the rhythm of his gently beating heart.