"I'm yours... Fuck! I'm only yours, Nico."
My other hand found her clit, stroking it, playing her just as she played me earlier. Her lips split open as her eyes rolled into the back of her head.
She erupted like Mount Vesuvius, her entire body shaking in my arms as I continued fucking her. The muscles inside her pussy squeezed hard, and I was too fucking gone to stop myself from rutting inside her as my own orgasm slammed into me with a vengeance.
It was almost painful.
Fucking otherworldly.
My vision blacked out for a second, and when I came back to my senses, I had no idea how I stopped myself from dropping to the floor with her in my arms. My legs shook from the force of my orgasm, completely spent after what we’d done.
Ajla buried her face into the crook of my neck, her body shaking. She looked up at me with thebiggest smile on her face, like an angel sent to save my soul, and I wasn't sure if I was strong enough to ever even think of letting her go.
I would do anything just to keep her looking at me like this.
"Can we do this again?" she asked, her cheeks flushed.
My hands pushed underneath her ass as I walked us both toward the bed, depositing her gently on top. I took off the condom filled with my cum and dropped it into the trashcan next to the bed, then crawled on top of the duvet after her, covering her body.
Her dark hair spilled over my white pillows, a pure contrast to the bleak existence I'd had before I met her. I didn't even know what I was missing until she crashed into my life, and I didn't want to spend another day living without her.
"If you thought that was it, you're sadly mistaken,amore," I murmured, pushing back a few loose strands from her face. "Because this is just the beginning."
12
AJLA
You would thinkthat after only four hours of sleep, the craziest fucking night I have ever had and activities that still had me blushing, I would be more tired and less ready to get up and go down for breakfast. Well, if you thought that, you’d be terribly wrong.
I had no idea where the energy came from or what it said about me that I all but ran downstairs with Nicolas, but I felt rejuvenated. I felt young, free, and most of all—I didn't have ten million thoughts racing through my head. Yeah, we belonged to different worlds. Yes, he was younger and so far out of my league it wasn't even funny, but for the first time in thirty-one years of my life, I didn't feel the need to run. I didn't feel like I had to hide from him after everything we had done lastnight. My past experience with men had been more of a wham, bam, thank you ma'am, and to be able to sit here at the dining table with the guy I not only have fucked but had also tied up and edged until he was begging for release was definitely new in my life.
And I wanted more.
God, even as we sat next to each other, eating perfectly made omelets made by Mariella, an elderly woman who reminded me so much of my grandma—and who, as Nicolas had explained it to me, had started grumbling the moment she saw him coming down because we had made a mess of his kitchen. Lucky for me, we took our activities to the room instead of staying in the kitchen, otherwise she would've been met with an even bigger mess.
I looked to my right, where Nicolas sat, and I couldn't stop myself from smiling as he cut through the omelette, reminding me of last night. His eyes met mine, and as if he knew what I was thinking, that mischievous glint I saw last night—this morning?—reappeared, making me hungry for more than just eggs.
Was this absolutely insane and so out of character for me? Yeah. If Anna could see me now, she would either be high-fiving me or scolding me for being this reckless. But I wanted to be reckless.
For once, I wanted to do something just for myself. Something that could bring me happiness, no matter how crazy it was.
We had to have a talk, that was certain, but I didn't want to step outside of this little bubble we had created, and something told me he didn't either.
"What are you thinking about?" Nicolas asked, pulling me back from the daydream where everything worked out perfectly.
"You," I smirked, drinking my orange juice. "Us."
"Us?" He smiled. "I like the sound of that. And here I thought I would have to rein in my need to call us, well,us."
There was something to be said about men who didn't play games and who said outright what they wanted and what they didn't want.
I had no idea how tiring the entire dating scene had become the older I got. It often felt like we were back in high school, playing all these guessing games, and I had no idea who had time for that. Definitely not met. Why was it so hard for people to communicate? What was so difficult about saying that you weren't interested anymore or that you wanted to take things to the next level?
Maybe it was me? People oftentold me I was too difficult, too stuck up, too opinionated, and too open, but I thought being open was good. I always said that with me, what you see is what you get, and I had no idea why it was so difficult for people to understand that.
"Oh, I don't like that look on your face right now," Nicolas said, taking my hand in his. "Are you okay? You're frowning."
"I am, I—" Was I? Was he actually only pretending? "I don't know if I am actually." I looked at him and the sincerity shining in his eyes, but years had taught me that just because something looked good, didn’t mean that it truly was. "I am a little bit confused, I guess. Or, well," I chuckled, squeezing his hand, "not exactly confused, but my mind is racing with all these past experiences, and I'm just..."