Page 42 of When She Unravels
“Do you want to get fucked, Ale?”
My eyes blow wide. A wave of arousal slams into me so hard that I forget how to breathe. “Excuse me?” I choke out.
De Rossi leans in closer to my ear. “You didn’t come here to look at the stars,” he says in a low, seductive voice.
No, I didn’t. The reason I’m here is because I couldn’t stand the thought of him screwing some random woman while I spent my entire evening thinking about that kiss.
But I’m not about to tell him that. “I’m not here for you.” My voice comes out all breathy.
His lips move against the shell of my ear. “Then who are you here for?”
“For myself.”
“And what doyouwant?”
Do you want to get fucked?Heat blooms across my chest. “I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do,” he coaxes. His hand releases my right wrist and trails down the center of my chest before stopping at the waist of my shorts.
I should stop him and put an end to whatever this is pronto, but as he nudges my T-shirt up an inch and starts to caress my midriff with his thumb, my body sings. Sparks come alive beneath my skin and travel all the way down to my clit.
“I think that wet pussy of yours wants to get fucked hard tonight,” he whispers. “I think it wants to get ruined by a big cock.”
I lose my ability to think. Who talks like that to a woman? Who the hell gave De Rossi permission to use the English language as a method of mind control? “You’re wrong,” I breathe.
This earns me a decadent chuckle. His fingers dip into my waistband. “Why don’t you let me check?”
He wants to feel how wet I am.
My God, Vale. Wake up. Tell him no. Tell his cocky ass to jump off the boat so he can see how wet the ocean is.
I open and close my fist, the one attached to the wrist he’s still holding. “De Rossi…this is…”
Just say no.
He lifts my hand to his mouth and gives it a soft kiss. “There’s no need to be timid,” he says, trailing his lips against my skin. “No need to hide how your body’s reacting. Do you want to feel what you’re doing to me?”
I nod, because I am weak. The moment he steps closer, presses his groin to my stomach, and lets me feel his hard length, I let out a needy whimper. It’s steely and huge and clearly wants to be inside of me. My walls flutter with anticipation. What would it feel like to have De Rossi fuck me with that thing?
“Your turn,” he says, pulling his lips away from my hand.
I nod again, keeping eye contact with him. His gaze darkens with triumph, and without any rush, he slides his entire hand past the waistband of my shorts and underwear. We’re still standing on the deck. Anyone can see us, although they probably have far more interesting things to watch on this boat.
I’m so damn wet that he can feel it as soon as his middle finger reaches my clit. His expression melts with pleasure as he gently circles the hard nub and makes me squirm in his grip. “That’s it.” He pushes further in and probes my sopping entrance. “So warm and wet,” he mutters. “So perfect.”
A moan fights its way out of my throat. “Damiano…”
He shuts his eyes. A tremor runs up the thick column of his throat.
Just then, I remember what he told me about calling him by his name.
“You always remember your first hit,” he mutters.
And then he kisses me. The finger that’s still inside of me curls in a rhythmic way, setting my nerve endings firing and making my body weak until all I can do is hold on to him for dear life.
We make out on that bridge deck for what feels like hours until I’m dizzy, on the verge of coming, and unbearably hot. Suddenly, he breaks the kiss, pulls his hand out of my shorts, and tugs me into his chest. “Let’s go.”
“Where?” I ask breathlessly.
