Chapter 4 #2
‘Truthfully, I’d taken my mother’s death really hard, and he seemed so understanding about how hollow and lost I felt.
Like he understood me and had my back. That he cared.
He seemed so sincere. And I… believed at that point I was in love with him.
I planned on losing my virginity to him.
I thought what we had was real, you see, and I wanted to trust him with it, to prove to him how much I cared about him too.
But then I found out from a friend that he was only dating me because I’m a Darlington-Hume. ’
She pulls a disgusted face. ‘She overheard him talking about the sacrifice he was making being with the runt of the litter instead of someone “more in his league”, like one of my sisters. He told his friends he was “taking one for the team” by pretending to be in love with me so he could reap all the privileges that come with my family name – to benefit both himself and them, if they were nice to him. It was all a power trip. He thought being with me would open all sorts of doors for him. Once I started asking around about him, it turned out that pretty much everyone knew he was like this, except for gullible old me.’ She shakes her head.
‘I was utterly heartbroken and it put me off dating for a long time.’
‘What a prick!’ I say roughly, furious on her behalf. I know exactly the type of guy she’s describing – someone who’s happy to wreck a woman’s self-esteem just to get ahead.
I try not to think about the fact I’m also using her for her name right now. It’s not as if we’re in a relationship and I’m pretending to be something I’m not – or to care about her more than I do. This is an entirely different scenario. No one’s going to get hurt here.
I watch her playing with the cord of the dressing gown as she continues to speak.
‘I’ve never had a lot of confidence in my looks.
Somehow, I ended up with the trifecta of bad luck in that department in my teens.
After my mother died, I started comfort eating and put on a lot of weight.
Then my face broke out in acne. Basically, I was an overweight, spotty redhead and I got bullied a lot at school by some of the other girls.
And then, later, by the press. Journalists seemed to love drawing unfavourable comparisons between my sisters and me.
You’ve met them, right? They’re beautiful – knockout beautiful – and so confident with it.
I’m just not like that, no matter how hard I try to be. ’
‘Well, as I said, I think you’re a very attractive woman and I’d very much like to get to know your incredible body better,’ I murmur, pushing her fringe out of her eyes and cupping her jaw, encouraging her to look at me so she can see how serious I am.
That it’s not just a line I’m reeling out.
Because it’s really not. I genuinely find her extremely fucking tempting.
She’s not like the women I usually date, sure, but I like that she’s different.
She’s trembling hard now, but I can tell from her expression that it’s with anticipation rather than nerves. But, still, I want to be sure.
‘Is that okay with you, Juno?’ I murmur, my heart racing as I wait for her answer.
I want to touch her so badly now I feel knots of tension building in my muscles. I want to put my mouth on her soft, warm skin and prove to her just how amazing her body is.
‘Yes,’ she says softly, ‘that’s okay.’
* * *
Juno
He’s going to kiss me.
I can feel his intent as he strokes his thumb gently over my cheek, sending ripples of pure pleasure across my skin.
My lips tingle with expectation as I stare down at his mouth, wondering how it will feel against mine. His lips look firm, but so soft. I imagine he kisses well. Really well.
I’m nervous about him seeing me naked, but I know I have to get over it if I’m ever going to move past this sexual glitch I’m stuck on, so I push the worry to the back of my mind.
He’ll take good care of me. I know he will.
I trust him. The whole reason I wanted to come to Sandro, apart from the physical attraction I feel for him, is because I know I don’t have to worry about him only doing this to try and get something from me.
He doesn’t need the benefit of my family name – he already has enough power and money through his own family connections.
But he doesn’t kiss me. Instead, he gently parts the dressing gown I’m wearing, exposing my breasts to his gaze. His appreciation is clear in his eyes, which gives me the confidence to stop myself from covering right back up again and to let him do what he wants to me.
I watch him as he moves back along the sofa and drops his head to kiss the swell of one of my breasts, running his tongue in soft sweeps just above my nipple, then tracing a gentle circle around the aureole.
My breasts feel heavy and engorged and I drag in a sharp breath as he sucks down hard on my nipple, drawing it deep into his mouth, sending a wave of pure, electric sensation straight between my legs as if the two areas are connected.
‘Oh… whoa… that feels so good,’ I gasp.
He pauses for a moment and raises his dark head. ‘Yeah? You like that?’
‘Yes. Don’t stop!’ I plead.
He moves to the other breast, giving it the same treatment, making my head spin and my whole body flood with dopamine. The heavy, insistent throb in my core intensifies.
‘Do you feel it in your pussy?’ he mumbles against my skin.
I suck in a shocked breath at the intimacy of the question, then force myself to answer. ‘Yes.’
He nods and I feel him smile against my breast. ‘Good.’ The sensation of his exhalation buzzes my skin, and I can’t help but smile as well.
‘Your body has more erogenous zones than you think,’ he whispers, sliding his hands down over my hips and round to my buttocks.
Grasping me firmly, he lifts me up and drags me further down the sofa, so I’m now lying prone beneath him.
I feel the heat of his hands through the material of my robe as he moves them lower to find the hem.
His fingertips skim over the sensitised skin behind my knees – a place I never thought in a million years would be so sensitive to touch – and I let out a gasp as flames of desire flicker up my thighs to join with the heat already pounding through my pelvis.
One by one, he walks the fingers of one hand up the inside of my leg, his mouth still hovering over my breast with erotic intent, and I begin to drag in short, sharp pants as I feel him getting closer to the place I ache to be touched.
He’s casting some sort of spell over me.
In my haze of lust I think I’d probably do anything right now to get what I want. What I need.
‘You know, the whole of your pussy is one big erogenous zone.’ He goes on to prove this as his fingers finally reach their destination and he walks them over my mound, pressing firmly on each side and opening me up to his exploration.
Each small pressure sets off little bombs of erotic sensation through me, as if all the nerves in my body have accumulated in my vagina and are having a war with each other.
But he doesn’t touch my clit, which throbs with longing to join in.
I almost sob with frustration as he walks his fingertips further up my torso and away from where I desperately need them to stay.
Moving up the sofa so we’re now face to face, he looks into my eyes and I realise he’s checking I’m still okay with all this.
‘Please… yes…’ is all I can say. I know I want something more, but I’m not sure how to ask for it. I need him to tell me.
‘Have you ever found your G-spot?’ he asks, his gaze searching mine.
‘What’s a G-spot?’ I pant.
His smile is wicked. ‘So much good stuff to learn,’ he murmurs as his fingers glide lower again.
This time he parts me fully and I gasp as he gently penetrates me with one long finger.
I’m so turned on, it slips easily inside me, bringing with it another riot of sensations.
He slides it deeper, watching for my reaction the whole time, and I have to close my eyes because it’s too intense, too intense…
And then he hits a spot that makes me see stars and I jerk beneath him, trying to get him to touch it again.
‘There?’ he murmurs.
I nod and he finds it again, pressing hard in short pulses.
‘Oh, oh, oh!’ is all I can say.
And then his thumb glides over my clitoris and I think I’m going to die with pleasure. But it’s not enough. Not quite. I need something… something more…
As if he senses my inner battle, he whispers, ‘Tell me what you need, Juno. Say it, whatever it is. Say the words. You have to tell me what you want or you’re not going to get it.’
A fierce blush burns my cheeks, but I’m determined to ignore it. I’m not going to let it stop me from getting what I want. I don’t want this to end. I have to have more.
‘Faster,’ I force out. ‘I need it faster. And harder.’
‘Good girl,’ he says with a smile in his voice and does as I ask, increasing both pressure and tempo until I think I’m going to go crazy with the joy of it.
I’m so close to the brink, after a whole day of my body being primed for his touch, that I know it’s not going to take much more to break me apart.
I begin to match his movements, unable to stay still, pushing myself harder against the pressure of his fingers. A low, guttural noise is building in the back of my throat, but I’m too far gone to care.
And then, as if I’m hitting a high I’ve been unable to reach before, the intensity of the sensation shatters and wave after wave of pure pleasure washes over and through me, making my limbs jerk involuntarily and my breath stutter in my throat.
I’m unable to focus on anything but the sensation of the orgasm as it rushes through me over and over again.
I let out a loud groan of relief as it finally begins to subside and turns into a gentle buzz of satisfaction.
My world comes back to rights, and I open my eyes to find Sandro staring down at me, his expression one of awe, as if he’s never seen anything more absorbing in his life.
And suddenly I’m shy again and intensely aware of how vulnerable I just allowed myself to be. I squeeze my eyes shut, hiding in the darkness I find there, taking a moment to centre myself. When I open them again, he’s smiling at me.
‘Fuck. That was so beautiful to watch,’ he mutters roughly, drawing his hand away from between my legs and gently pulling my robe closed to protect my modesty.
My body gives a throb of regret at the loss of his touch.
‘And that concludes your lessons for today: how to ask for what you want,’ he murmurs.
‘Really? You want to stop now?’ I ask. I was expecting him to ask for his own orgasm in return, so I’m surprised to find he doesn’t seem to want that. At least not tonight, I guess.
‘More tomorrow. I promise. Time to sleep now.’ He rolls away from me, and off the sofa to standing, then holds out a hand and helps me up too.
My legs feel like jelly and I have to hold on to him for a second to steady myself.
‘You’ve not got your sex legs yet,’ he jokes.
I can’t help but giggle, it’s so absurd.
‘Thank you,’ I whisper, glancing up at him with a smile and giving his arm a squeeze.
‘It was my pleasure. I think you’re going to make a very satisfying student.’ He pushes a rogue strand of hair away from my face and grins at me. ‘Now go to bed. You must be exhausted.’
‘I am,’ I say, yawning to prove the point.
‘Then I’ll see you in the morning. Buonanotte.’
‘You’re not going to bed too?’ I ask.
‘Not yet. I’m going to sit up a while,’ he says.
I nod sleepily, grateful he doesn’t expect me to stay up too. My whole body is achy and heavy-limbed from such an intense experience, and I desperately need to sleep now.
He’s wrecked me.
I can only imagine what a mess I’m going to be at the end of my week here with him.