“You are the only fucking one allowed to call me that.”
He gave my breasts a rough squeeze, running his teeth along my nipple. A gentle moan escapes my lips. His was the biggest I have ever had, and I strained against him as he stretched me. I didn’t expect it to feel so painfully good.
“You are fucking perfect. Tell me you are on birth control,” he pleads.
“Implant,” I whisper, gasping for breath between moans.
My back arched to prepare for my impending release. He grabbed a fistful of hair entangled in his fingers and pulls me up to meet his lips in a fierce kiss. I was lost in ecstasy. His kiss deepened in a feverish need to breathe for me. Both of our breathing grew heavier through our impassioned kisses. Moaning against his lips, his movements became stronger. They became faster. He was close. I was closer. I bit my lip, successfully muffling my scream into a soft moan. My walls pulsed around him as he released his hold on my hair and gripped the backs of my thighs, kneading my sensitive skin like dough. He uses my thighs as grips to drive into me deeper as I continue climaxing around him.
“Fuck!” He exclaims, releasing into me.
I collapse against the lounge, lying flat against the leather. My chest raising breathlessly and panting for air from the pounding I took. This man was deliciously rough. My insides still pulsing around him. He pulls out from inside me, drops of warm liquid falling onto the inside of my thigh. My pelvis twitched in earth-shattering pleasure. I look up to see him studying my body through fierce eyes. He runs his palm across his beard.
“God’s gift,” he says, a teasing smile crosses his face.
He’s right. Italians are a different breed.
* * *
After one more round ofincredible sex in the shower, I rested my tired body and shaky legs in a chair next to the window. The night lights of Rome a most welcome and beautiful sight. The black silk of my robe sticking to my damp skin. Lorenzo walks out of the bathroom, his wet hair falling into his face. He walks closer to me, finishing buttoning his shirt.
“I know you are here to try and discover your family. Maybe I can help,” he suggests.
“Sure,” I say softly.
“Let’s start with a name,” Lorenzo says.
“You forgot my name already?”
“Amelia, your full name.”
“Marcelli. Amelia Marcelli,” I say.
I feel as if he must know a persona and not know the real me as Finn does. An indescribable look crosses his face that I can’t quite understand. My brows furrowed suspiciously.
“What? Have you heard the name before?” I ask.
“It’s very Italian. We have our work cut out for us.”
I raked my fingers through my curled hair, still wet from the shower. He walks over to me and places a chaste kiss against my lips. I reach behind me on the lounger and grab the two pieces of cuffs and place them in his hands.
“Something to remember me by.”
His lips hover over mine after resting his palm against my naked thigh. Just a touch and this man can set my cunt on fire. An inferno of want.
“I’m fucking addicted,” he said.
“I told you I can’t promise I’m not a drug,” I whisper.
Not a bad way to end your first night in Roma. Just, do as the Romans do.