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maybe altitude will fix this
publish date:
2026-09-02 16:51:30
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Second Time, Mrs. Ricciardi hips don't forget (21+++)
The slow rhythm didn’t last long.Maybe because I locked my legs tighter around his waist. Maybe because Rafael had been holding back too long, just like he said. Or maybe because the two of us have always been terrible at doing anything halfway...including wrecking every rational decision we’d ever made.Whatever the reason, his next thrust hit harder. I sucked in a sharp breath, and Rafael was already moving again before I could pull a single coherent thought together. His hips found a faster rhythm while his arms stayed locked around me like he refused to leave even an inch of space between us.“Oh, fuck…” His mouth dropped to my neck.His tongue dragged over the skin just under my ear before his teeth caught it lightly, and I immediately fisted the back of his neck, tilting my head to give him more room without a single scrap of pride left.“Rafael…”“Yeah, baby.” He drove in deeper.I moaned against his shoulder, nails digging into his back, and his teeth found that same spot
Second Time, Mrs. Ricciardi devil I know (21+)
The kiss should have stopped there.It should have.I already had more than enough reasons to pull back, put a palm against Rafael’s chest, tell him this was a bad idea.But he kissed me again before the part of my brain that still had a Stanford degree managed to take over.My hand was still twisted in his shirt when his mouth came back down on mine, deeper, and I opened for him immediately without being asked. His tongue slid against mine slowly that was way too familiar, completely without hesitation.I grabbed the back of his neck.Rafael made a low sound in his throat, and his hand tightened around my waist.Fuck. I knew that sound. Or my body did.Either way, equally bad.I kissed him harder, my fingers sliding into his dark hair and ruining whatever part of it had still been remotely party-appropriate, while he moved forward until I had to take one step back.My heel hit something.“Oh, fu—” I lost my balance.I landed on the mattress with a soft thump, my black dress riding hi
Second Time, Mrs. Ricciardi in retrospect, terrible line
Rafael looked at me.I let him. It was a bad decision, obviously, but some bad decisions came with good lipstick and perfect timing.The car kept moving down the hills of Nob Hill, city lights sliding across the windows like someone had spilled champagne over San Francisco. Rafael didn’t say anything for the rest of the drive, and I, because I had pride, trauma, and poorly developed survival instincts, didn’t take back a single word I’d said about Axel either.If he wanted to be mad, fine. If he wanted to pretend he wasn’t jealous until his jaw could cut glass, I could sit there looking pretty and enjoy the show.We got to my house fifteen minutes later.The porch light was on, warm over the front steps, while the side lamp in the foyer cast just enough light for the windows to reflect pieces of the living room inside: the cream sofa, Gabby’s little blanket hanging off the armchair, one of Al’s pillows on the floor, and the shadow of the ficus in the corner like an exhausted witness t
Second Time, Mrs. Ricciardi one ex-boyfriend later
Axel looked at me, then at Rafael, and a his smile appeared. “Well,” he said. “Good.”I wanted to say something.Several somethings.But the host appeared at the exact same moment, Mrs. Caldwell in pearls, a sharp smile, and an emerald dress that probably required armed insurance. She greeted Rafael with two air kisses, touched my hand with perfect social warmth, then told us how “lovely” it was that we could come, because apparently lovely now meant walking into a party, nearly landing a new contract, running into an ex-boyfriend, then getting officially certified as happy by your amnesiac husband. San Francisco old money really had its own vocabulary.We talked to the Caldwells for a few minutes. I laughed in the right places. Said thank you in the right places. Answered questions about GALA with enough detail to sound like a CEO instead of Rafael’s marital decoration.Rafael stood beside me with that neat, expensive kind of coldness, answering business questions with clipped precis
Second Time, Mrs. Ricciardi old boyfriend, current husband, nowhere to stand
I went quiet, and Axel glanced at me before giving a small shrug, looking almost annoyed with himself for even admitting it.“Stupid, I know.”“Not stupid.”“A little.”“A little,” I admitted.“Thanks.”“You walked into that one.”“I forgot you were like this.” His eyes lingered on my face too long again.I took a sip of sparkling water that had lost its bubbles a long time ago.“I dated again,” he said. “A few times. Nothing dramatic. One moved to London. One realized she wanted to be married before thirty and I…” He made a face. “Apparently lacked urgency.”“An architect afraid of deadlines. Shocking.”“You know what’s funny? Every time something didn’t work out, there was always this really stupid part of my brain that started comparing.”“To?” I frowned.Axel looked at me.Okay. I looked away toward a group of people near the fireplace. “That seems healthy.”“Extremely.”“You should get a therapist.”“I have one.”I looked back at him.He smiled. “New York.”“Oh God.”“Expensive.”
Second Time, Mrs. Ricciardi some things survived us
“Axel.” His name left my mouth with a strange feeling, like putting on a perfume I used to love and finding it again five years later in the back of a drawer. Familiar, a little too close to the skin, carrying too many things with it before I’d even decided whether I wanted to remember them.Axel was still standing where he was.He looked at me a few seconds longer than politeness allowed, his eyes moving slowly from my face to my hair, dipping briefly to my dress, then coming back to my eyes like he was still trying to match the woman in front of him with the girl he’d last seen in a Stanford hoodie, ripped jeans, and an expression that suggested she wanted to murder a compiler.I let out a laugh because the silence was starting to develop a personality of its own. “Hi, stranger.”I stepped closer and held out my hand.Axel looked at my hand, then at my face. “Oh, come on.”He ignored my hand and pulled me into a hug.My body went stiff immediately because my brain had been expecting
Second Time, Mrs. Ricciardi Sunlight and Divorce Papers
I woke up because the sun slapped me in the face. White-gold light speared through the thin curtains, landing directly on my eyelids that had never volunteered to become solar panels. I blinked slowly, trying to gather the pieces of my soul scattered across the sheets.The clock on the nightstand r
Second Time, Mrs. Ricciardi He Never Chose Me
“Wow,” I said at last, closing the door behind me with a soft click. “I thought you were still busy having a reunion with your ex.”His gaze dropped for a second, traveling down my body. From the thin heels, to my bare legs, to where the dress cinched at my waist, to the neckline that was bold enou
Second Time, Mrs. Ricciardi Platinum Barbie
Seven p.m., and Lake Como looked like an expensive postcard that had been photographed to death. Deep blue, almost black. Villa lights scattered messily across the water. A thin veil of fog hovering low, like a cheap Instagram filter no one bothered to turn off.From the study window facing the lak
Second Time, Mrs. Ricciardi The Wife
The small pan hissed softly as the oil heated, the sharp scent of roughly crushed garlic already filling the kitchen before I realized I was humming. Fuck.A Shakira song.Wildly off-brand for this morning’s mood, which had gone to hell at five twelve a.m. sharp, when Arsen, the technological basta
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