Lisa Desrochers - A Little Too Much

An intense sex rush ripples through me. This is a different Alessandro. A bolder one. I like him. A lot.

His fingers slip behind my neck and find the tie of my dress. He pulls it loose and backs away just long enough to let it slide off my body into a puddle at my feet, leaving me standing here on display for all of Upper Manhattan in nothing but a white lace thong and heels.

But the thong doesn’t last long.

His touch sets every inch of me ablaze as his fingertips slowly trace the lines of my body, over my neck, my shoulders, my breasts, along the curve of my ass and under the elastic of my thong. He teases me, his fingers caressing lower, but not as low as I want them. Finally, I can’t stand it anymore. I grab his wrist and push his hand between my legs. He chuckles, but gives me what I want, stroking my sensitive spot on his way deeper. His fingers plunge inside of me and come out slick. He teases the bundle of nerves between my legs again, and I gasp as my whole body turns electric and convulses. His hand glides out from between my legs and he brings it to his mouth, slipping his long fingers between those irresistible lips.

“I’m going to eat you alive,” he growls.

And suddenly there’s no air.

He eases my thong over my hips and lowers me to the carpet, and the next second his mouth is on me, sucking, licking, his tongue plunging inside me. I fist my hands in his hair and pant with the rhythm of his tongue as he teases me into a total sexual frenzy.

“God!” I pant, right on the edge. But I fight it. I don’t want to come this fast. I want more of this. I never want him to stop.

But I can’t contain the beast. It claws its way out of me and I cry out with the body-wrenching ecstasy as I convulse with my release.

He slides up my body as I catch my breath, his lips and teeth nipping and grazing over every inch of me. His tongue darts into my belly button and he licks his way up to my breasts, where he gives suck, forcing a low moan up my throat. He wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to eat me alive. When he reaches my mouth he kisses me deeply, and the taste of my arousal on his lips and tongue starts a tingle in my groin again.

Sex with Alessandro has always been amazing, but since the day he came back, it’s been earth-shattering. Something beyond words happens when Alessandro and I are together. It’s like what we’re doing is too big to contain on Earth, so we have to take it to the stars. He takes me there and rocks my world as we’re soaring over it.

I think it’s because I love him. Now I just need to let go of that last shred of fear and tell him.

I’m a wet noodle of contentment, and yet, as his kiss deepens, I know I want more. My hand slips to the fly of his jeans and I drag it down as he pulls a condom from his pocket. He kneels beside me, fixing it in place, then pulls me astride his lap. I lift my hips, and lower myself slowly onto him, and moan as he starts to rock against me, feeling him so deep inside me as my weight settles onto him that it truly feels like we’re blending into one. I work the buttons of his shirt and let it fall open because I want to see that spectacular body. I want to watch his ripped pecs and abs ripple as he moves under me.

His lips and tongue graze the butterflies at my collarbone as one hand massages my breast and the other grips my hip, guiding me up and down his length. I run my fingers down the front of him, feeling taut muscles under my hands with each roll of his hips.

How can any one man be all this?

His mouth finds mine as he thrusts harder, and he teases my nipple between his finger and thumb, bringing me back up onto the cliff that I just plummeted off of not ten minutes ago.

It’s like lightning under my skin. Sensory overload. My mind short-circuits as I become pure sensation. I feel everything so intensely, as if I’m electrified—fully charged and ready to detonate.

I arch into his body and cry out, once, twice, three times with his thrusts as I explode all around him. He pulls me tight against him and holds me here as we both come.

This is heaven.

When I can move again, I literally pinch myself. I have to know this is real, because never, even in my fantasies, did I think it could be like this.

I WAKE HOURS later, still on the floor, deliciously sore. But it takes me only a second to realize I’m alone. I pull myself up to a sitting position and look around for Alessandro. I find him on the balcony. He’s in only his jeans, leaning his elbows on the rail, the city lights laid out in front of him.

I slip my dress on, and when I slide the glass door open, the cool air sends a shiver over me. “Hey. What are you doing out here?”

He turns to face me. “Thinking.”

“About?”

He draws me into his arms and kisses me. “The past, the future, and everything in between.” He takes my hand, leading me through the living room to a bedroom . . . in which I find a queen-sized bed with four pillows under a white duvet—the only furniture in the place. Above it, framed on the wall, is his print of Salomé.

“There’s a bed?” I mutter.

“You distracted me before I could get you this far.” He nuzzles into my neck from behind, his fingers brushing up my back to the tie of my dress, which he undoes. It drops to the floor at my feet. He kisses the sensitive spot below my ear, then steps back and slides off his jeans. He flicks off the light, then guides me to the bed, where we climb between cool sheets that are so soft they must have some insane thread count. I curl into Alessandro and realize it’s been over a month since we’ve talked about Lorenzo, or the group home or anything else from back then. I can’t even remember the last time I saw that tortured look in his eye. The guilt is gone and he finally seems free.

I smile against his chest.

He must feel it, because he kisses the crown of my hair. “What has you so happy?”

“Would you ever have imagined back then that we’d end up like this?”

He cups my cheek and lifts my face so those beautiful eyes are gazing down into mine. “I imagined it every day.”

I kiss him with everything that I have, because I don’t know how else to show him how deep his words touch me, and when he rolls on top of me, I give him every part of me: my body, my heart, and my soul.

“I love you,” I whisper, low in his ear.

He buries his face into my neck, and I feel his shaky breath against my skin. He makes love to me so slowly and thoroughly that it breaks me open and I spill right into him.

I DON’T REMEMBER falling asleep, but I wake in Alessandro’s bed. When I open my eyes, the room is bright, and so are Alessandro’s eyes as he gazes down at me. He’s sitting up, leaning against the headboard in a pool of sheets. He’s got the real-estate magazine that I saw on the kitchen counter when we came in propped on one bent knee and he’s writing something in it.

“Hey,” I croak. “Happy birthday.”

“Good morning,” he says, gliding a fingertip down the length of my nose.

I shift up and kiss him. I mean for it to be a quick peck, seeing as I have morning breath and all, but he glides his hand around the nape of my neck and holds my lips to his, deepening our kiss.

Finally, he pulls away, his gaze locking with mine. “I want to wake up to this face every morning,” he purrs.

I brush my lips over his jawline and look down at the magazine on his knee. “Oh my God,” I say when I see that he’s not writing something. On the back of a real estate flyer, he’s sketching something.

Me.

I’m sleeping, an arm flung over my head, my fingers curled into my wild afro and the sheets tangled over my breasts, one dark nipple just peaking out. And I’m beautiful in a way I never could be in real life. I look almost angelic.