Chapter Ten
The sight of Francesca waiting for me on the bed swiftly reawakens the arousal I lost a moment ago.
I prowl closer to the bed, my gaze heating. With her on display like this, there’s too much I want to look at. Too much I want to do. I don’t even know where to start.
That little smile on her face is where I have to start. It’s killing me. The sight of her perfect, rounded cleavage spilling out of her bra, just begging for my mouth’s attention is hard to pass up, but those lips of hers… I’ve gotta taste those lips.
She scoots back when I approach the bed, like she wants me to chase her. I’d chase Francesca to the ends of the earth, so a few feet across a hotel room is nothing.
Climbing up on the bed, I move until I’m hovering over her body. “There are a lot of things I want to make you feel, Francesca, but disappointment sure isn’t one of them.”
The way she looks up at me like I’m the only man in the world seeps into my soul. I want to remember the sight of her like this for the rest of my life. It’s scary as hell at the same time. This woman who already means so much to me is opening herself up, making herself vulnerable, and now it’s my responsibility to live up to her faith in me. My mouth has been spitting out promises that are going to be hard as hell to keep, but I’d rather let down everyone else in the world than disappoint Francesca. I don’t know exactly how I’ll keep my promises, but I damn sure will.
Confident in that knowledge, I let myself have her. Lowering myself closer to the mattress, I let my body come down on top of hers. A bit of her boldness wavers now, her nerves fighting to take over. Before she can let them, I dip my face toward hers, brushing my lips across each corner of her mouth, then I taste those perfect lips. As innocent as it is, just feeling her respond to my kiss makes me hot. I’ve never enjoyed kissing someone as much as I enjoy kissing Francesca. Like always, she keeps it light. Even here, in bed, both of us at least mostly naked, she still keeps the kisses innocent. I don’t know if it’s her preference or inexperience, but I go ahead and deepen it. As my tongue comes out to play with hers, I snake a hand beneath her body, my fingers feeling for the clasp of her bra. She arches her back slightly to accommodate me, pressing her breasts against my chest.
I don’t know why we did anything other than this today. Nothing we did out in the city comes close to beating this. Anticipation surges through me because I can’t believe this is actually going to happen. It hasn’t been that long, I guess, but for me it has. At my age and with the women I date, waiting to have sex isn’t done.
This feels nothing like those encounters, though. Francesca is in a class of her own.
I ease back to help her get the bra off now, flinging it in the floor behind me. Her hands come up to cover her breasts. She’s bashful, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll look when she lets me. Right now I just want fewer clothes covering the body I want to devour, so I smirk up at her and hook my fingers along the edges of her black lacy panties. Her flush deepens as I drag them down her legs, but I don’t take my eyes off her face. I can’t imagine why someone with her body would be uncomfortable getting naked, but Francesca clearly doesn’t like baring herself in any way. I don’t get it myself, but I’m more than willing to accommodate whatever she needs.
“You look like I’m pulling your teeth here,” I remark, lightly.
“I’m sorry,” she says, less lightly. “I hate this part.”
“That’s… What’s to hate about this part?” I ask her, baffled.
“I actually hate all the parts. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” Even though she’s naked and I haven’t even really had a chance to look at her yet, she’s clearly not where I want her, so I pause. “Do you not want to be naked? We can strategically drape the sheet if you want,” I offer, indicating the white sheet.
“I’m being stupid,” she says, shaking her head.
“You’re not being stupid. I just want you to be comfortable. You’ve seen me,” I point out, indicating all of my unashamed nakedness. “Since you have the proportions of a goddess, I would like to see you. But if you’re not ready, that’s fine. I can hit the lights?”
“Maybe this wasn’t a good idea,” she says, clearly anxious. “The alcohol has worn off and I don’t feel brave anymore.”
“Okay,” I say, easing off her. “That’s fine.”
Pressing her hands against her face, she murmurs a muffled, “I’m so sorry.”
“No apology necessary,” I tell her, climbing off the bed to go hit the lights. “I wasn’t expecting this anyway. We still get to spend the night together, so I’m coming out way ahead of my expectations.”
Once I climb back into bed, I’m expecting her to have calmed down, but if possible, she looks more upset. “I feel terrible.”
“Don’t.”
Yanking back the bed sheet as soon as I climb in, she says, “Let me finish the blowjob—you’re clearly still aroused.”
I catch her as she tries to move down my body—mostly because I don’t possess the self-control to stop her if she gets there—and pull her into my chest. Without a word, I drop a kiss to the crown of her head and wrap my arm around her.
“I swore I wasn’t going to do this,” she mutters.
“Francesca.” I tip her back, looking into her eyes so she sees I’m serious. “It’s fine. Stop stressing about it. I brought you here today to have a nice time. We’ve had a nice time. We’re still having a nice time. Now, here I am holding you in my arms, falling asleep next to you. I am in no way dissatisfied with this day or you.”
She peers up at me for a moment, just staring at me without saying a word. I don’t know whether she’s going to cry or apologize or just give up and go to sleep.
Finally she leans in, brushing her lips against mine. I respond, since she’s lingering, but I don’t deepen it. I do nothing to set the pace. That was my original instinct and she was fine with that, but once I started taking control, she flipped her fucking lid—even though it seemed like she wanted me to.
Francesca doesn’t deepen the kiss herself, but she doesn’t stop kissing me, either. Still with our lips connected, she eases up, pressing her bare breasts against my chest. My cock burns with arousal but I try to ignore it. Only then her hand creeps down my abdomen, spreading fire through my veins with every inch of skin she drags her soft hand down. She stokes a fucking inferno when she wraps her hand around my cock, gripping me and tugging up and down.
It’s a real struggle to follow her lead. I don’t know if I should even let her try again; I know she’s not intentionally being a tease, but she’s on track to giving me the worst case of blue balls I’ve ever had in my life. I don’t want her to be worried about me, though. Not tonight. I want to drive her wild with pleasure tonight. I want to show her there’s absolutely nothing scary about what will happen between the two of us on a bed—or any other surface we happen to find sufficient. I can’t do any of that without actively participating though, and if I do, she might freak out again.
She’s calm right now, kissing me tenderly, periodically pulling back to watch my face as she works me with her hand. “You’re really wonderful, you know that?”
I give her a little smirk. “I tried to tell you.”
Rolling her eyes while smiling, she says, “You’re so full of yourself.”
“I’d like you to be full of me.”
I only mean it as a joke, but her smile wanes. “I’m sorry I’m such a weirdo.”
“You’re not,” I assure her. I really don’t want to talk about this right now. She’s not going to feel a whole lot better if I lose my erection while she’s giving me a hand job, but if she stirs my sympathies and reminds me of why she is like this, that’s bound to happen. So I choose the lesser of two evils, bringing my hand up to cup the back of her head and pulling her in for another kiss.
When I let her pull back, I tell her, “We have plenty of time for sex. I’m not in any hurry. Eventually you’re going to be comfortable enough with me to know there’s no part of you that needs to be hidden from me. When I remove your bra, your only thoughts will be of my mouth kissing, sucking and worshiping every single inch. When I take your panties off, the only thing you’ll feel is excitement, knowing I’m about to bury my face between those perfect thighs of yours and devour you until you’re writhing all over this bed, mindless with fucking pleasure. The only thing you need to be afraid of is possible dehydration—and I’ll make sure there’s a bottle of water on the bedside table to stave that off, too.”
Francesca smiles, her long lashes keeping her eyes hidden from me as she looks down. It’s too dark to tell, but I’m betting she’s flushed again. “You think of everything, don’t you?”
I want to respond, but she’s doing good work with her hand. My eyes drift shut, my head resting more heavily against the pillow. The sound of rustling bed sheets compels me to open my eyes and investigate, but by the time I do, she’s already disappearing under the sheets. A couple seconds later her mouth closes over my cock, and I’m gone. She takes me into the perfect, wet warmth of her mouth, and all I can do is fist my hands in the crisp white linen covering the bed and let Francesca suck my cock. My arousal’s been so up and down in the past half hour, my cock seems a little more desperate for release than is typical. Her magical lips help, too. She swirls her tongue around the tip, then wraps it around me like a lollipop. When she pulls back, the suction is fucking incredible and she doesn’t break it. I think I might have to marry her.
Now she’s getting into it, moaning as she takes me deeper. Christ, I can’t even focus. Or, I think I can’t focus, then she plunges deeper, taking my cock deep into her throat. She eases back and does it again, her tongue massaging my cock as it slides home.
“Holy fuck, Francesca.”
She does it again. And again. And again. I can’t take it anymore and before I can even warn her, I explode, pleasure surging through me so sharp and intense my vision gets a little foggy around the edges.
She emerges from under the blanket, flashing me a smile before curling up beside me, resting her hand on my torso. “Good?” she questions.
Chuckling a little, trying to gather my wits as I recover, I murmur, “Obviously. Sorry I didn’t warn you. I did not expect you to deep throat.”
She seems legitimately surprised. “No?”
My eyebrows rise and I look down at her. She’s frowning a little, like I’ve said something legitimately confusing. “Well, no.”
“Why?”
I don’t really know how to answer that. “Uh… well, you haven’t had many partners. Generally women don’t get into that with their first sexual experience. I guess I assumed Dead Man Walking was your only lover?”
Nodding a little as her hand skates absently across my chest, she says, “He was. That’s how he…” She pauses. “I just thought that was part of giving a standard blowjob. I have fancier skills than that, but you were too aroused and it’s easier to do when I’m on my knees. I would’ve done it earlier, but I thought we were going to have sex, so…”
I can’t even find any words to respond to this. My expectations of Francesca’s oral capabilities were so low, and the reality is so far in the opposite direction. From a purely selfish perspective, I couldn’t be happier about all this. But considering what she said earlier about needing alcohol to get through sex, basically, I’m hesitant to be too jubilant.
I also have no fucking idea how to ask about it. If any of the women I’ve ever been with before had any kind of sexually inflicted mental damage, they never told me about it. It would’ve been kinda weird if they did, all things considered, but this is Francesca. It’s probably a little unfair for all the women before her to think she’s the only one that matters, but, well, she is. The shift in my interest with her is unlike anything I’ve ever encountered before, but it’s hit me so naturally I don’t even care to question it.
“Do you like doing it?” I finally ask.
At first I don’t think she’s going to answer me. She’s still tracing shapes on my chest with her finger, dragging her finger tip in little swirls. I want to put it in my mouth. I want her in my mouth, but I’m too unsure of her response to try it. As much as I want to give her back the pleasure she just gave me, this is maybe the first time in my life it’s seemed like that might not be welcome. I don’t want to set off her nerves again, so maybe I should just wait.
Finally Francesca answers me. “It’s stressful. It wasn’t especially easy to learn, because every time I would fuck it up he would get pissed off at me and just… jam it. I couldn’t breathe sometimes. Like, he pushed himself so far and intentionally cut off my oxygen as a consequence for fucking up, and it was always awful. I threw up once. Another time I couldn’t breathe for so long I thought I was going to die like that, and I thought, wow, what a humiliating way to go.” As she says this horrible fucking shit to me, she smiles wryly and shakes her head.
It’s hard to believe I was so relaxed just seconds ago, because now I’m so taut with anger that I feel like I’m going to snap.
“It was worse if I stopped though, so I just had to get good at it. I mean, it’s hard to actually know if you’re good at it, so you just have to pay attention to the feedback to know if you need to adjust. And even though I didn’t expect you’d get mad at me, I still kind of expect it mentally, so it’s stressful. It’s not your fault it’s stressful,” she says, glancing up at me. “It’s just how I was trained.”
And now the motherfucker has ruined blowjobs for me. I have a blowjob queen in my arms, and I can’t even fucking appreciate it.
I’m going to find out who this motherfucker is. If she won’t tell me, I’ll find out myself. And when I do, I’m going to fucking kill him—whether Mateo likes it or not.