Mirabella sits across from me, her damp auburn hair clinging to her face in messy waves, the rain still fresh on her. The soft light in the restaurant highlights the olive undertone of her skin, making her look even more striking. She’s fucking beautiful, with eyes the deep, dark brown of rich espresso, and there’s always that glint of challenge in them when she looks at me.

And damned if I can look away.

I think I want to have sex with you.

Her words keep echoing in my head, relentless, and I have to fight back a groan at the way my dick hardens. She’s different—completely unlike anyone I’ve ever dealt with before. Bold as hell, yet there’s something underneath, a hint of bashfulness that shows through her confident exterior.

Her clothes cling to her, still wet, and I can clearly see the outline of her hardened nipple through the thin fabric of her dress. But it’s the fire in her eyes that keeps me locked in. She’s not scared—not of me, at least—and that makes her all the more fascinating.

When she leans in closer, her lips curving into that half-smile she’s been flashing at me all night, I have to remind myself why I don’t get involved. Not with women like her. Not with anyone, really.

“Are you in shock?” She throws my earlier question back at me, her tone teasing.

A dark thrill snakes up my spine, mixed with something more dangerous.

I’ve always been the one in control. Of my body. Of my emotions. I’m not impulsive, and I definitely don’t let my dick call the shots. But as the tension crackles in the air between us, I feel something dangerous pulling me in. The way she keeps looking at me, her gaze moving over me like she’s daring me to do something, is pushing all the wrong—or maybe all the right—buttons.

“You think?” I finally ask, leaning in just a fraction. “Or do you know you want to have sex with me?”

Her full lips stretch into a knowing smile as she twirls a lock of wet auburn hair between her fingers.

“I could’ve died a virgin tonight. Worse, someone else could have taken that choice from me,” she says, and my fists tighten at the reminder of what almost happened earlier.

“So…” she gulps. “…before I die, I want to know what an orgasm feels like. People say it’s the best feeling in the world, and I want to experience that…”

Her eyes flash with heat and…fuck! I feel myself harden even more.

“…I want to see a man’s body. Yours, to be exact,” she says, her voice soft and teasing as she bites her lower lip, her eyes glinting with mischief. “I bet it’s one hell of a sight.”

Her words settle deep in my chest, her meaning clear.

“Except…” she says, her voice soft but confident, “you don’t want to have sex with me. Although I think you do …” Her dark brown eyes gleam with challenge.

I chuckle, low and rough, as the temptation travels a dark path down my spine. Raking a hand through my hair, I force myself to ignore the desire creeping into my mind. It would be wrong, so wrong, to take advantage of her right now.

“You have no clue what you’re asking for.”

She leans even closer, her lips just inches from mine, the tension between us stretching tighter with each passing second. “Maybe I do. And maybe I don’t care. I like a little danger.”

My gaze drops to her lips, and for a fleeting moment, I imagine what it would feel like to taste them, to kiss her.

“Careful what you wish for, Bella,” I warn, my voice a low growl.

She swallows, her eyes flicking down to my mouth. “I’m not scared of you.”

“You should be.”

She nods, an unreadable expression crossing her face.

“I want you to make me yours tonight. Unless…” she trails off, and my body suddenly itches to hear the words leave her lips.

“Unless what, Bella?” I ask, my voice low.

“Just leave it…”

“Unless what?” I repeat, and something flashes in her eyes at the seriousness of my tone.

“Unless I find someone else who’ll satisfy my needs…someone who will make me feel like a woman…”

I don’t wait for her to continue before I toss some cash onto the table and stand, offering her my hand. She smirks, not hesitating to slip her hand into mine as we step into the cool night air. The rain has slowed to a drizzle, the droplets clinging to her skin, making her hair shimmer under the streetlights. Her dress sticks to every curve in a way that’s impossible to ignore.

We walk toward the car in silence, but the tension between us is suffocating, thick with anticipation. I open the passenger door for her, my fingers grazing her arm as she slides in. She shivers, and a vivid image flashes in my mind—me pressing her against the car, taking her right here in the rain while burning from anger at the thought of her mentioning another man.

I slide into the driver’s seat, the engine growling to life as I pull away from the driveway. The city blurs by in streaks of light and rain, but all I can focus on is her—Mirabella—sitting beside me, her presence undeniable.

Every time we hit a bump, her leg brushes against mine, and it takes everything in me to keep my eyes on the road. She’s stealing glances at me from the corner of her eye, and the silence between us is thick with unsaid words.

She shifts in her seat, her wet dress sliding higher up her thighs, and I have to grip the steering wheel harder than necessary to stay focused.

We pull into the entrance of a luxury hotel tucked away on the city’s outskirts. The rain continues its soft patter against the windshield as I kill the engine. The world feels muted, as if the downpour has stolen the night’s sounds to make this moment ours.

I glance over at her, and everything I’ve been trying to hold back begins to unravel. She has this magnetic pull, like gravity itself bends around her. I want her—badly. And the way her smoldering gaze locks onto mine tells me she feels it too.

“This where you bring all your rescues?” she teases, her voice wavering between boldness and uncertainty as she fumbles with the seatbelt. There’s a slight tremor in it, a hint of vulnerability she’s trying to hide.

“Only the ones I want to see again.”

Her eyes widen slightly, surprise flickering across her face. “You want to see me again?” she asks, almost disbelieving. The way she says it makes my chest tighten. It’s as if she’s never heard those words before—not in a way that mattered.

It makes me wonder about the kind of men she’s known—the idiots, the cowards. What lies did they feed her to strip away her confidence? To make her feel like she’s nothing more than a fleeting moment, a passing thought, a casual fling? Shit. Was I any different from them?

I grip the steering wheel even tighter, an ache of protectiveness settling in my chest. I’m going to erase every single one of those bastards from her memory. I’ll show her what it feels like to be wanted—truly wanted—by a real man.

“Why wouldn’t I want to see you again?” I ask.

She hesitates, her gaze dropping to her hands. “I just thought…” she starts, but her voice trails off.

“Well, there’s the problem. Don’t think, Bella. Just feel.” My voice softens, but there’s a command there, a promise. “When you’re with me, forget about the world outside. Just be here. With me.”

She looks at me for a long moment, her eyes searching mine like she’s testing the weight of my words. “As long as we’re just having sex,” she finally says, her tone light but laced with caution. “The way you’re talking, it sounds like you want more than just this hotel room. You’re not a serial killer, are you?”

A laugh rumbles from my chest, low and deep. “I promise, I’m not. I love women too much for that.”

“Women? So, there’s been more than just me,” she says, tilting her head. She’s fishing, but there’s no edge to her voice—only curiosity. I love that she’s interested in my past, but I have to stay focused. If I let myself, I’ll tell her everything, and that’s dangerous territory.

“Sorry to disappoint you, Bella,” I say, smirking. “With the way I fuck, I don’t have room for too many women.”

Her breath hitches, and the playful smile slips from her lips. Her gaze darkens, heat pooling in her eyes. Lust. Pure, unfiltered lust. It’s mutual. We sit there, the tension crackling between us like a live wire. I don’t know how much time passes, and I don’t care.

My eyes drop to her lips again, and my body reacts before my mind can rein it in. My dick twitches, straining against my pants, and I feel the last shreds of restraint slipping.

Fuck. If we don’t move now, I’ll lose it. I’ll tear that dress off her right here in this car and make her mine—completely, utterly mine.

I exhale sharply and push the door open, stepping out into the cool night air. The rain kisses my skin, a brief reprieve from the heat burning between us.

But it won’t last. Not tonight.

I round the car and open her door, and when she steps out, her skin brushes mine, igniting a spark that’s hard to ignore. I find it fucking hard to believe she’s still a virgin. She’s beautiful, sexy—every man’s wet dream.

Without a word, I grab her hand, pulling her toward the entrance of the hotel. The lobby greets us with soft lighting illuminating from the chandeliers above. Marble floors and polished wood catch the warm light.

The middle-aged receptionist behind the desk straightens slightly as she sees us, and a welcoming smile spreads out on her lips. I handle the check-in smoothly before taking the key card and turning back to the woman in my arms.

The elevator ride to the third floor is torturous. Every stolen glance, every accidental brush of her hand against mine makes my pulse race, but I keep myself in check. This isn’t about rushing—it can’t be. Not with her.

For the first time in my life, I don’t want to dive headfirst into desire. I want to take my time, savor every second, every breath, every touch. I want to revel in this night like it’s my last night on earth. She’s different, and she’s making me feel things I’ve never felt before—things I don’t know how to name yet.

When the elevator doors slide open, I step aside to let her out first, my hand hovering at the small of her back. It’s a light, steadying touch, and yet it sends a wave of heat through me. As we walk down the hallway, each step toward the room feels heavier, more deliberate. My hand itches to pull her close, but I don’t. Not yet.

At the door, I slide the keycard into the lock and push it open, pausing to take a deep breath before stepping inside. I glance at her, my voice low but steady.

“Last chance to back out,” I murmur, meeting her eyes.

She steps closer, her confidence faltering for just a moment before her resolve shines through. Her lips are so close to mine that I can feel the warmth of her breath. “I’m not backing out.”

And that’s it—the last wall I’ve put up crumbles. My hand shoots up, grabbing her by the neck, and her eyes widen, equal parts surprise and desire flickering in their depths.

“I’m not a gentleman, kitten,” I drawl, my hand circling her throat while my second thumb caresses her lower lip. “I don’t do sweet words in bed, and I definitely don’t cuddle afterward.”

She rolls her eyes, but the heat in them never wavers.

“I’m not asking for sweet words or cuddles,” she whispers as her hand slides under my coat to caress my chest. The room is cold, my wet shirt is even colder, yet her touch only leaves burning in its wake. “I just want one night where I can feel alive. Just…make me forget, Ettore.”

The sound of my name on her lips sends a jolt straight to my chest, but it’s not lust—it’s something stronger. Something terrifyingly new. I lean in, my forehead resting gently against hers, as I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

“If that’s what you want,” I say softly, my voice thick with emotion, “then I’ll give it to you. But I promise, I’ll give you more than just one night to forget—I’ll make you feel like the only woman in the world.”

I clench my teeth as her hand slides down to the bulge in front of my pants. She stands on her tiptoes, her lips brushing my chin, and her next words come out in a breathless whisper.

“So what are you waiting for? Take me.”

The soft, sultry tone of her voice sends a shockwave through me, and in that moment, I know there’s no turning back. For the first time, I’m completely okay with that.

My fingers thread through her hair, pulling it roughly back as I press my mouth firmly against hers. Her breath stutters into a gasp when my tongue swipes across her teeth, then into her mouth. Her hands slide up my chest slowly, almost as if she’s not sure of what she’s doing. I kiss her harder, sliding my hands down to grab her ass.

A whimper slips past her lips, and I swallow the sound greedily. She wants this, and I’ll make sure every moment is worth it—for both of us. One hand travels under her dress as I continue to kiss her.

I knead the soft flesh of her ass, feeling the wet lace of her panties in my hand as I squeeze. She makes a sound of approval in her throat before sliding her hands over my neck and burying them in my hair. I groan, savoring her small sounds as my mouth devours hers.

She moans before pulling away to gasp for air. I suck on her neck, her shoulder, nipping gently with sharp teeth until she lets out another strangled moan.

The pleasure from just kissing her wracks through my entire body. My breathing becomes more erratic by the second, and it takes everything in me not to rip off her clothes and fuck her against the door.

Instead, I lift her body in my arms. She instinctively wraps her legs around my waist as I carry her to the bed, gently placing her on top of the white sheets. I stand over her at the edge, unable to tear my gaze from her as I struggle to keep my dark lust on a leash.

She blinks up at me dazedly, and her cheeks are flushed pink. A sharp breath leaves my lips when she gets on her knees and swiftly pulls her dress over her head, leaving her in a matching pair of a black lace bra and panties.

She tosses the piece of cloth aside, and just as I think I’m still in control, she reaches behind her to unclasp her bra. My mouth goes dry at the sight of her smooth, round, olive-toned breasts as they spill free. Her nipples, slightly darker than the rest of her skin, harden underneath my stare.

“You like watching me undress, don’t you?” she murmurs, those deep brown eyes of hers undressing me.

I run a hand through my wild locks before stepping toward the edge of the bed. She watches me as I sink onto my knees before pulling her legs to the edge of the bed. A gasp escapes her lips when I rip her cheap, lace panties before I pull the material down her thighs and throw them carelessly to the floor. My cock twitches at the sight of her pussy, already wet and glistening.

Her hips arch forward as I kiss her ankle.

“Have you ever been kissed here before?” I ask, flicking my tongue over her soft skin.

“No,” she whispers.

My mouth trails a wet path up to her knee, and her pants become louder, faster.

“What about here?” The deep murmur echoes through the quiet room. She lets out an involuntary shudder as I bite the skin just above her knee.

“No.”

My tongue circles the spot before moving torturously slow to her inner thigh. Her hands find their way to my hair and tug on it, urging me to hurry. I smile before moving to the apex of her thighs.

My tongue darts out to lick the wet folds of her pussy. A loud moan slips through her lips, and I groan in approval, sucking her even deeper.

“How many men have touched you here?” I ask.

“Zero.” She throws her head back and moans as my fingers play with her entrance.

I hum softly as I continue my ministrations, alternating between licking, sucking and biting softly until her knees start to shake. I hold her hips still as I continue to lap at her wetness, relishing the sound of her wanton moans as she reaches the brink of her orgasm.

When I pull away to look at her face, satisfaction warms my blood at the sight of her—flushed and panting, with a red blush on her cheeks.

I stand and begin to undress. She watches me raptly as I unbutton my shirt, undo my belt, and pull down my briefs until I’m naked before her.

“You like watching me undress, don’t you?” I repeat the question she asked me a few minutes ago. A flash of amusement appears in her eyes, but it quickly disappears as I grab a condom from the pocket of my pants and roll the latex over my hard length.

“Spread your legs, Kitten,” I murmur as I approach the bed.

She obeys, spreading herself wide for me. A groan rumbles out of my throat as I climb onto the mattress over her, my cock pulsing as it brushes against her thigh.

“Are you ready?” I ask her, pressing my dick against her wet opening.

Her hip bucks upward as she grabs my shoulder. “Yes…”

I sink in slowly, taking her inch by inch. She moans and closes her eyes, her hands gripping onto the sheets as I sink deeper inside her. Tears pool at the corners of her eyes, and I let out a curse.

“Are you okay?” I grit my teeth and halt my movements.

“Yes,” she gasps, opening her eyes to look at me. “Don’t stop.”

I press a kiss against her neck before dragging my mouth down to take one nipple into my mouth. Her hands sink into my hair again, her nails scraping against my scalp. When I feel she’s adjusted, I sink further into her, letting out a low hiss when the full weight of my cock stretches her body.

I wait for a few seconds before pulling out to thrust forward again. She whimpers loudly against my ear. The sound sends a shiver of lust racing down my spine.

“Again,” she pleads as I plunge deeper into her body. “Please, Ettore.”

Her voice sounds wrecked, pleading, and needy. I take her second nipple into my mouth as I slam into her. She gasps, a low whimper escaping her lips. The sound causes another wave of desire to shoot down my shaft.

“Fuck,” I groan, grinding against her once more. “You like that, right?”

“Yes,” she moans, her hips pushing up to meet mine as I pound into her.

Her pussy clenches around me, and I curse, digging my fingers into her sides as her pussy squeezes me and makes me lose any control left in my body. Her muscles tense as her climax rolls through her body, and I watch her buck beneath me, desperately trying to escape the waves of pleasure.

Her cries of satisfaction echo throughout the room just as I feel my own orgasm hit me. I grip the sheets beneath me and thrust one final time before collapsing beside her with a heavy thud.

Our bodies are slick with sweat by the time we finally collapse beside each other. She lays her head on my chest, and my lips unconsciously pull upward.

“I thought you didn’t say sweet things during sex, or…” she yawns softly, her voice barely above a whisper, “how did you put it? Cuddle afterward?”

I chuckle, my chest vibrating beneath her. “I don’t.” But I leave out the part where she’s different—how something about her has me breaking rules I’ve lived by for years all in the span of a few hours into meeting her.

She snuggles further into my body, and I realize I don’t hate it. Worse, I actually like it. The feeling of her soft, sweaty skin pressing against mine. The feeling of her steady, warm breath ghosting across my skin.

This…feeling helps me understand why people cuddle after sex. It makes me wonder if I could have more of this…

As her breathing evens out, I know she’s fallen asleep. My eyes grow heavy, too, and as I bury my nose into her auburn hair, inhaling the subtle scent of her, a final thought crosses my mind just before sleep claims me.

This can’t end as a one-night stand.

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