Everyone else had cleared out of the restaurant, leaving just me. I felt a little stab of nervousness - this is how it had been the night before when the attack had happened. But one of the chefs had offered to stop by and walk me home if I wanted him to, and I wasn’t planning on wandering the streets late at night anymore anyway. No, I had a plan tonight, and none of it involved leaving this building.
I focused as best I could on cooking - it was what had got me into this business, after all, and I still loved it after all these years. My mom had taught my sister and me to cook when we were pretty young, and we’d bonded over putting together meals for the whole family. Every Sunday night, everyone - all four of us, plus my grandparents on both sides and my aunts and uncles - would pile into the house and Mom would need help putting together enough food to keep them all fed and happy. The amount my family ate, that alone was a herculean task, and I was usually the one roped into helping her out. But I didn’t mind. I had always loved to cook for people, whether it was the calm peace I found putting together a simple meal for one person or the gloriously messy panic of cooking in a professional restaurant kitchen. Either way, it was my happy place, and I was glad to have the distraction before he got there.
I didn’t want anything too fancy, just enough to keep him eating for a while so I could ask him all the questions I had in mind. I lit candles, went the whole nine yards. Part of me felt like this was a date - if I was being honest, a lot of me did. That kiss was lingering in my mind, and I couldn’t figure out why. The situation had been so… ugh, the worst I’d found myself in a long time, but being with him as I had earlier that day made me want to do more. There was that mix of attraction and confusion mixed with more emotions than I could get a handle on by myself whenever I laid eyes on him, and I wasn’t sure what to do with them.
Just as I laid out the plates, a knock came on the door. My head whipped around, and I felt a sudden jolt of anxiety - but it was him. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding, then went over and let him in.
“Evening,” he greeted me with a half-smile. I nodded towards the table.
“Your dinner’s ready.”
As he walked across the room, I realized something.
“I don’t even know your name,” I called after him, still standing by the door. He glanced over his shoulder, smiling slightly. My heart fluttered in my chest, and I tried my best to keep my obvious attraction off my face for the time being.
“Anthony. Anthony Dorello.”
“Well, good to meet you, Anthony. I’m Sabrina.”
He paused for a moment, waiting for me to join him. I finally made my way over to him, and lit by the candles, his features looked ever softer and sweeter than they had before. He was dressed smart, in a suit jacket and a tie, and he pulled the chair out for me so I could sit down. I did so, and he took his place opposite me.
“This looks amazing,” he commented, picking up his knife and fork.
“Carbonara, it’s the house specialty,” I replied modestly. “My mom taught me to cook it. One of the first things I ever learned to make.”
“I’m starving.” He glanced up at me. “Lucky thing I won this meal tonight.”
“Yeah, lucky,” I breathed. It was him. I was certain of it. Before, his presence had taken me by surprise - I hadn’t been ready for him. But this time, knowing what I was expecting, there were no two ways about it. I was looking at the man who had saved me, and that only made my attraction to him grow. Why was that? I mean, he would forever be associated with one of the worst things that had ever happened to me, but for some reason, I found myself drawn to him. I realized I was leaning slightly towards him over the table, and quickly checked myself. I was practically throwing myself at him already, and I needed to hold back. After all, I couldn’t forget what this man was capable of, what he’d done to those men. There was a good chance he was seriously dangerous, and I didn’t want that in my life if it might affect me.
We began to eat, and he asked me about the restaurant - when it opened, how my staff were, and if we had any regulars. Whenever I tried to ask him a question about his past, he deflected neatly, answering in vague half-sentences that didn’t seem to come to much. The more he avoided my questions, the more determined I became to pull some answers from him. I assumed he must have something to hide - people didn’t usually just stumble into having the talents he did by mistake. I wondered what he did to get them. Was he a personal trainer? Some gym nut who decided to play the hero? Or was it something darker than that? I couldn’t shake the questions from my brain, and as we finished up our meal, I simply observed him in silence for a few seconds. I needed to know what this guy’s deal was, but I didn’t know how to get a straight answer from him.
He dabbed his lips with the napkin and took another sip of the wine I’d opened for us. He let out a small, satisfied noise, and flicked his gaze up to meet mine again. The silence between us felt comfortable but also loaded as if each of us were waiting for the other to do something.
“That was amazing, thank you,” he smiled at me across the table, and I felt a small flip in my stomach. My scalp began to prickle. I recognized the feelings for what they were - attraction. I couldn’t remember the last time I had been attracted to someone the way I was to Anthony. Generally, my love life went on the back burner so I could take care of the restaurant. I’d had a few boyfriends since I moved to the city, but not many - I guessed I came with too much baggage, what with my sister and the restaurant and everything else. For most of the guys I met, I was simply too independent; I didn’t need anyone to get by, and that threw a lot of them for a loop. They wanted me to need them, and I just wanted to want them. But Anthony… he didn’t seem put off by the fact that I was in control of my own life. And that just made me more attracted to him.
Here I was, sitting across from a man who had saved my life and who also may or may not have been seriously dangerous, trying my hardest to ignore the fact that all I wanted to do was lean across the table and kiss him again. I touched my fingers to my lips without thinking, trying to recreate the feeling of his mouth against mine, then blushed and looked away. God, I was acting like a teenager with a crush. I had forgotten how to flirt without just crawling into his lap and asking him to take me there and then.
“You’re welcome,” I murmured, not sure where to take the evening now that he was finished. I needed more time. I just wasn’t sure how to play for it.
It was then that I felt it - his hand against my leg. I almost jerked it away on instinct, I was so unused to feeling a guy coming on to me. At first, I wasn’t even sure if he’d meant to touch me, but I looked up at him and saw his eyes had softened and his mouth had moved into a gentle smile. I sat there for a moment, not sure how to react. His warm fingers were against my flesh, promising, offering more if I wanted it. And at that moment, I gave myself over to the desire that had been growing between us and parted my legs.
I spread my thighs as far as my skirt would allow, and my breath hitched slightly as he took my invitation. I shifted the fabric up and over my hips, my legs almost completely bare beneath the table. I thanked the good Lord that I’d warn my pretty panties that evening, and then forgot about everything as I felt him accept my invitation. His hand slid up the inside of my knee, his nails lightly grazing my skin. I closed my eyes momentarily, only the flicker of the candle still visible through my eyelids. I could hear that his breath had grown a little heavier, and I felt a warm, familiar heat begin to spread through the lower half of my body.
Finally, his fingers found my pussy. He pulled my panties aside skilfully, and I found myself leaning towards him over the table slightly. I just wanted to be close to him, to take every part of him in; my eyes flicked open so I could watch his reaction as his fingers grazed my labia lightly. He was staring into my eyes, obviously enjoying my reaction, and I found my mouth gaping open a little as he slid a finger inside of me, taking his time. I was already soaked - my body had obviously been more open about desiring him than my brain had. He reached his thumb up and used it to graze my clit ever-so-lightly, and I let out a moan. It was so quiet in the restaurant that the sound seemed to hang in the air between us for a long moment, and I bit my lip to keep myself from crying out in pleasure. He pushed another finger into me, and I lost myself to the sensation of it.
I slowly blew out the candles. I wasn’t exactly sure why it crossed my mind, but suddenly, I wanted to be in darkness. I wanted to be able to focus on nothing more than the feeling of his fingers within me, and that was it. I caught him smiling just before the last one was snuffed out as if he knew what I was up to and approved of it. His thumb pressed suddenly against my clit, sending a sharp shock across my body. I let out a small cry, and he immediately released the pressure as if he was just waiting for my reaction. He let out a long breath, but without seeing his face, I couldn’t know what it meant - whether he was horny or frustrated or wanted me more than he’d wanted anyone else in his entire life. All I knew were that his fingers flexed slightly inside of me, and he twisted his hand around so he was making a come-hither motion inside me.
I let out a long moan, able to give myself up to him now there was darkness between us. I would have been too self-conscious if he could still see me, but here, I was able to let go. I parted my legs are far as they would go, hiking my skirt up to expose my bare legs, and he took the invitation. His fingers moved with more purpose, his thumb stroking light, teasing circles around my clit. I gripped the edges of the table, eyes closed, breathing heavy, as I felt my body tense up under his touch. My legs clamped together slightly, holding his fingers in place, not giving him permission to stop as I grew closer and closer. And then, finally, it happened.
When my orgasm hit, I could hear the wood creaking under my fingers - that was how much it shook through my body, forcing me to tense and release, tense and release. How long had it been since I’d come like that? Months, maybe even years? He pulled his fingers out of me but continued to apply light pressure to my clit, simply extending my orgasm as it played out over every inch of my body. Something about not having to worry about how I looked or what he thought of my appearance, something about being in the dark and having only this between us, made it that much easier to let go, and I did so gratefully, as though I might never come again.
A cry escaped my lips, and before I knew it, he was standing up, feeling for me in the dark, and easing me to my feet. I knew what he wanted because I wanted it too, and badly. I turned around in front of him, the two of us lit only by the dim light of the appliances still on in the kitchen, and flipped my skirt over my hips to expose myself completely.
He slid one hand over his ass, and I heard him fumbling in his pocket before he ripped open a condom packed and quickly sheathed himself.
“God, you feel so good,” he murmured, his voice dark and heavy as his hands roamed across my butt and my lower back. I arched myself up so that I was practically on display for him, and he happily accepted what I was offering. He gripped my hips, and slowly slid inside of me.
Both of us let out a long, sated sigh as soon as his cock entered me. His fingers were one thing, but they were nothing compared to how he felt now. He was bigger than I had expected - well, thicker - and I felt deliciously full as he held himself inside of me for a second without moving as if savoring the feel of me surrounding him.
Of course, it didn’t take long for him to start fucking me. Both of us were aching for it, desperate, by that point, and I ground my hips back to meet him with every thrust to bury him deeper. His fingers tightened against my flesh, and I became dimly aware that I could hear rain hitting the windows next to us. But I couldn’t have cared less. All that mattered was the steady pace he was building up inside me, the tension that was already radiating through my body again.
“Touch yourself.”
Suddenly, he was leaning over me, his breath hot and sweet with wine in my ear. I did as I was told, slipping my hand between my legs, as he slowly wrapped my hair around his hand and tugged lightly. I let out a moan of pleasure and pain, not sure what I wanted more of, as I began to masturbate. I could feel his cock moving in and out of me, and the sensation of it against my hand was a ridiculous turn-on. He kissed my neck, running his teeth lightly over the side of my throat, as he picked up the pace, and I knew I couldn’t hold out much longer.
I wasn’t sure what drew the words out from me that time. Maybe it was just the intensity of the feelings coursing through my body or the fact that I was so close to a release of a different kind. But whatever it was, I said it. I turned my head, my lips brushing lightly against him, and spoke as he fucked me.
“I know it was you.”
When the second orgasm came, my knees practically gave out from under me. I was glad he had one hand on my ass; otherwise, I might have collapsed into a sloppy pile at his feet. My toes curled in my heels, and I let out a deep grunt, my body wracked with contractions as I tried to pull myself back together. And then, I realized what I had said.
He didn’t speak. He stood back up, placed his hands back on my hips, and screwed me deep and hard a few more times before he found his own climax inside of me. He remained inside me for a few seconds after he finished before he slowly withdrew, rolling off the condom and disposing of it quickly. I pulled my panties up and my skirt down, and turned to peer at him as he used a lighter from his pocket to relight the candles on the table. Had I fucked things up? Because it felt as though I might have royally fucked everything up.