130
I wake in the early morning light entangled in Jake’s limbs and bedsheets. My body is aching and heavy from everything he’s done to me through the night. I can’t help but smile at the memories, a warm blush traveling over my sensitive skin.
If I thought Jake had a high sex drive when he was dating his string of floozies, I have severely underestimated him. Last night, he’d been addicted to my body, barely giving me time to recover. He’d been true to his promise and brought me to dizzying heights of orgasm more than once with his expertise and confidence in pleasuring me. There is not a single inch of my skin he has not kissed, licked, or massaged softly, and I finally passed out from exhaustion rather than his wavering libido. My brain was too dizzy to function anymore. My Casanova is truly a master in the bedroom with the confidence of a man with no sexual inhibitions. I am glowing all over.
Old Emma has been reborn.
Managing to free myself from his arms and slide out without waking him, I stand by the bed in all my glory and gaze at him for a moment. His beautiful body is sprawled out, possessing the bed in the way he possessed me over and over. My heart swells to almost bursting, and I know I’m smiling like an idiot.
I love him more than words can ever express.
His almost-black hair is messily ruffled, his dark lashes closed on flawless tanned skin, that designer stubble sexily hot against crisp white sheets. He looks like the cover of an erotica book with his naked torso and tattooed shoulders carved in perfection, and yet, he is all mine. It takes my breath away.
How did I ever manage to get him? To win his heart? I must be dreaming.
My head is still reeling over the fact that I’m here and with him. I’m in his apartment after sharing his bed all night, and he has told me so many times already that he loves me.
Jake Carrero loves me, Emma Anderson, a nobody PA from a nothing existence. Jake Carrero, the infamous playboy heartbreaker, actually fell in love … with me.
Ti Amo.
Maybe I should learn Italian, so I can understand the many pet names he’s bestowed on me now. I’d like to know what he’s calling me. I giggle inwardly to myself.
I go to the bathroom to shower so that I’ll look fresh when he wakes up. I’m tired and should be asleep, but my body is hyperactively awake, still tingling from his touch, mouth, and lovemaking. The downside to being with a specimen like him is it makes me feel a little like an ugly duckling in comparison, especially when last night’s make-up was first cried off and then sweated all over me through vigorous pursuits. I’m sure my hair has seen better days, and the fright awaiting me in the mirror is not worthy of someone like Jake.
I stand under the water jets with my head tilted up, so they block everything out, noises, thoughts, and bodily aches, and I revel in the heat and pounding massage it gives me. For the first time in my life, my thoughts are completely blank, and there’s nothing, no doubts, no niggles, no insecurities, no memories, or anything of the sort. I just feel at peace. I feel peaceful and something else, a small, lifted weightlessness deep inside of me that I can only describe as contentment.
Who is this new person?
There’s a small draft behind me as the shower door opens, and a grin spreads across my face immediately. I know his presence; I could feel him feet away without even trying. His hands come around me from behind, his hard, chiseled body against my back, as he joins me under the huge water jets, his mouth instantly on my neck, teasing me gently as I surrender body and soul.
“Hey there, beautiful. Mind if I join you?” He sounds hoarse and tired but utterly adorable.
“Bit late for asking, don’t you think?” I wiggle my butt into his groan, and he responds with a vengeance, a hardening I cannot ignore. Despite the number of times he’s had me already, I also react, my insides clenching with desire as heat rises within, and I turn in his arms to capture his mouth. Feeling brave, I run my hands over him, then push him back hard against the tiles and launch myself at him. He seems momentarily shocked, then grins, his pupils dilating almost instantly. He picks me up under the thighs, so my legs wrap around him, every naked inch to every naked inch, and walks me forward so my back is against cool tiles as water pours over us.
“Better hold on, Mio Amore,” he growls low and gruff, almost threatening, “This is going to be memorable.” His eyes are heavy with longing as I bite his lip and suck it in response and lose myself in his low groan.
* * *
We’re lying on his bed again; I’m loosely held in his arm as we stare at the ceiling in companionable silence. I'm content and truly happy for the first time in my life. We’re saying nothing, just lying side by side, his hand twirling a strand of my hair and gazing up, finally sated, and it feels like perfection. It only took half a dozen times, in as many hours, before he finally stopped wanting sex every time we stilled to catch our breath. My body is tingling in ways I never knew it could. Any embarrassment at being naked with him is gone, just sheer euphoria and exhaustion in its place. Months of pent-up frustration have finally been realized, and now here we are, comfortably silent and entwined as we recover.
I can hear Nora in the kitchen making us lunch; it’s late morning, and the sounds of her clanging pots and the low mumble of the television she has on seem homely. The blinds are shut, the room is still dim, but everything feels right like I’m finally where I belong. Like I waited my whole life to find myself exactly here in this time and place with him.
“I can’t imagine anywhere else I would rather be right now,” he says softly, as though reading my mind, his eyes coming to rest on my profile adoringly.
“Not missing your big-busted, casual sex, then?” I tease, grinning like a Cheshire cat. He watches me, a smile moving across his mouth as he shakes his head.
“Not one of them compares to you in any way, Emma. They never did, Amante. Besides, these are pretty big if you ask me.” He cups my breast, leans forward so our noses touch with a wicked gleam in his eye, and brushes them together softly. I giggle and slap his hand softly. “You’re my everything,” he soothes with serious intensity.
“No, Jake, you’re mine,” I answer tenderly, my eyes filling with moisture at just how romantic my Casanova can be; he knows exactly what to say to me. I feel that tugging ache going off inside me again, which I am starting to recognize as love pangs.
“Do you want to come somewhere with me today?” he asks, his eyes still locked on mine, unmoving. Our bodies are linked at the legs and torso, arms casually intertwined.
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
