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gently down onto the soft duvet of his bed and takes a moment to just look at me, as I wait, flushed and warm and wanting. The expression on his face while he watches, rakes his gaze over me, makes me hot from head to toe.

I'm not even naked, yet, but he looks like he wants to devour me. He tugs his shirt off in one swift motion, and it's my turn to stare at the hard planes and ridges of his toned chest, golden and perfect.

"You're breathtaking, Rosalina." I flush as he bends down and settles himself between my bare legs, and I know right away what he's planning. He plants a gentle kiss on my ankle, trailing his nose up my calf and then slowly, teasingly, dragging his soft lips across my thigh, higher, higher. My fingers dig into the sheets.

He places a whisper of a kiss against the inside of my thigh, inches from where my legs meet. A rough hand keeps my leg bent, my foot flat against the bed. When I feel his hot breath through the thinness of my panties, a tiny distance away from the softest part of me, a whimper escapes my parted lips.

But before he gives me what I want, he stills, and his warm hands push the t-shirt I'm wearing up, off my thighs, off my hips. I help him peel it away and then my naked chest is exposed to the cold air of the room, and my nipples stiffen, my breaths are heavy.

He watches the rise and fall of my chest, the tips of my breasts dark and aching for his touch, just as the space between my thighs is slick with want. Every part of me needs him.

The way his eyes swallow me, whole, is mesmerizing. "Nero," I whisper, running a hand gently through his thick hair. His fingers slide beneath the lace of my underwear, pulling the scrap of fabric down my legs and discarding it somewhere on the floor.

With his face an inch from the apex of my thighs, warm breath tickling my soft skin, he uses one hand to hold me gently still and the other to tilt my knee aside, exposing me to him. He drapes one of my legs over his shoulder, bringing his hot exhales even closer to the center of me. Before I can mentally prepare myself, he places an open-mouthed kiss right there, tender and wet, and my strangled cry escapes into the space around us.

He holds my trembling hips against the sheets as his tongue flicks across me, he sucks my soft, slick flesh and caresses the swollen skin, sending waves of intense, searing, unbearable pleasure through my whole body. My fingers in his thick hair press him closer, and when he pushes his tongue deeper into me I come apart against his face, calling his name, the knot of tension in my stomach melting into a sugary pool and my muscles falling limp onto his bed.

When he props himself up to hover over me, the wetness, my wetness, coats his pink lips and they spread into a knowing grin. He brings his mouth close to mine and whispers, "You taste really fucking good, dolcezza." And he makes sure I know it, capturing my lips and filling my mouth with the sweetness of my orgasm.

3

it was possible to come from just his warm mouth and rough fingers and the cold air on my nipples as the heat of his hard body hovers over me, but I do.

4

his sweats, his briefs. My skin is already coated in a thin sheen of sweat and my muscles ache, but I want him inside me.

He lines his body up with mine, and the hard planes of his chest are flush with the softness of my curves. He leans in and mumbles into my ear, "How many was that?" I know exactly how many, and I'm sure he does too.

I spread my legs a little and feel his length against me, and I'm ready for him all over again, and he's definitely ready for me. I kiss the hollow of his neck, trailing my nose up the side of his face until my mouth is close to his. "Aren't you supposed to be keeping track?"

His soft laughter tickles my face. "Watching you come apart beneath me is distracting, carina."

A large hand holds my hip, fingers pressing gently into my skin. His other hand brushes lightly against my face, a crooked finger caressing my cheek. He leans in and his lips melt into mine, impossibly soft, and I arch my hips because I want him, but he doesn't give in that easily.

I know he must be going crazy, having just patiently driven me to three orgasms. Before he lets me have him, though, those piercing brown eyes meet mine, dark and bright and sparkling with what I know is far more than just lust or simple affection.

It should scare me how deep he's fallen, how deep I've fallen, but for some reason it doesn't.

"Rosalyn," he says in that low voice of his. Hearing my name like a prayer from his lips is mesmerizing. "Do you realize how incredible you are?"

Oh. Nero. I blush. I'd look away but his gaze holds me captive, and I believe him. He could tell me that the earth is square and I would believe him.

My hands rest at his waist, and as I let my fingers float across his skin, he shivers beneath my touch.

I want to tell him how, for a long while, I felt like a piece of shit. And that all I feel now is light and free, and the tension in the bottom of my stomach is not guilt but a delicious ache, for him to make me his. "Nero," I whisper, nudging his nose with mine. "You're incredible."

With his eyes still keeping mine hostage, he tilts his hips and enters me slowly, so that I feel every inch. It's so intense, I whimper against his mouth, watching his face soften and his breaths accelerate. The golden flecks in his eyes shine.

Both hands come to hold my face, and with each thrust he touches parts of me that make my legs quake, he turns each nerve to flames. Our chests rise and fall together, skin stuck together with a slick layer of sweat.

My fingers dig into his back and the perfect edges of his jaw slacken, pleasure sculpting his expression into the hottest damn look I've ever seen. I love knowing that it feels good for him, being inside me.

He trails a light string of kisses from the top of my breasts, up my shoulders and across my collar, traveling along my neck until he reaches my lips. When his mouth captures mine, our tongues tangling and his lips the softest, smoothest things in the world, I can't help the sigh that escapes me.

Something about the way we move together this time, the way his eyes swallow me, the tenderness of his mouth and the gentle whisper of his touch is magical. It's not frantic, or rough or hard like how we had each other before. This burns slowly, lingers.

Against my wet lips he says, "You have no idea what you've done to me, dolcezza." He rests his forehead against mine, and the way our eyes meet, it's like he can read deep into my mind, can see all the thoughts and feelings I keep hidden away. "You..." I run a hand through his thick hair, my legs bending around him, taking him deeper. My breaths fall against his face and I hold him to me, and the look in his eyes makes my chest flutter wildly. A small whisper against my cheek, he mumbles, "You made me breathe again."

He hits a spot that forces a sharp, wanton breath from my lips. His mouth presses into my neck, and I know it'll leave a mark but I can't possibly care. "Nero," I breathe against his lips, every inch of my skin alight. My fingers clutch his face so that our eyes meet and I have never ever looked into someone's soul before but I do now, and there is no doubt that he can see right into mine. "You—" Another slow thrust feels so good that I nearly see stars. "Take my breath away."

My eyes flutter shut as we continue to move together, the pleasure twisting and climbing in my gut with every deep thrust. Our lips find each other again, rough and soft at the same time. He tugs at my lip, my tongue slides across his, my fingers rake through his thick hair, and when the knot of need in the bottom of my stomach becomes too unbearable I tighten around him, crying his name and falling apart in his hands.

"Rosalyn," he moans, tensing, then finishes inside me, his eyes forced shut with the overwhelming sensation of his orgasm.

The emotion between us is palpable and heady as he falls against me. My arms collapse against the cool sheets, every part of my body hot and exhausted.

Nero slides out, props himself up again slowly, probably to avoid crushing me, and places a gentle kiss against my collar. The sigh that escapes my mouth is breathy and tired, pure satisfaction.

He settles onto his side next to me, the muscles of his arm going taut as he leans against his elbow. My body is completely spent, my skin soft and sensitive all over. I can feel all the sex we've had today in every sore inch of me.

I tilt my head to the side and Nero's eyes are bright, dark, almost golden when they meet mine. His skilled fingers trail a feather-light path up my hip to rest softly against my warm face, brushing a stray strand of hair into place. "I will never get enough of you, dolcezza."

Somehow, I have enough energy to flash him a small, tired grin. "Well good, cause you still have..." My yawn betrays how exhausted I am, "like, a billion more orgasms to go."

I shiver as he trails a finger down my side, chuckling. My nipple puckers, my skin is so tender that even his slightest touch is almost overwhelming, I feel it right between my legs. "Gioia, right now you wouldn't even be able to handle one."

"Mm," I moan, rolling over so that my chest is flush with his. I wrap my arms around him, sink my chin into the crook of his neck. "I don't even think I can move."

I feel the vibrations of his laughter. "Just sleep, dolcezza."

It's so tempting. His hands hold me to him and I mumble into his shoulder, "Do you have somewhere to be tomorrow? I don't want to keep you."

Already, my voice is growing heavy with the promise of sleep.

A hand brushes softly through my hair, the other against my hip. "I don't have much to do these days, carina." I guess not.

Except, he doesn't sound too upset about it.

I should go back to my place. Surely, staying here another night is not a good idea.

But, how could I sleep in another bed, alone, with only a wall between us? I miss the comfort of a warm body to lay next to while I sleep. I can give myself that, now, after everything.

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