Chapter 2

Alessia

I move closer to get a clearer look, but the room is too dark. I shake off the drowsiness and blink several times, trying to focus. There is an empty chair across from him, so without thinking twice, I slump into it.

Slowly, he lifts his head.

Our gazes lock.

My breath catches in my throat.

He studies me as though he is trying to piece together a memory he cannot quite reach. A deep, jagged scar runs from his left eye down toward his ear. Instead of making him look less attractive, it gives his face an untamed, dangerous edge.

My eyes drift lower.

A dragon tattoo curls across his skin.

He is breathtaking. Mysterious. Dark. Dangerously sexy. Every inch of him seems to exude strength, the kind of quiet power that makes it difficult to look away.

My gaze remains fixed on his onyx eyes, and something about them feels strangely familiar.

“There is a certain family with that unique color of eyes,” I murmur, my voice slightly slurred as I lean closer to his face. “Are you from the Amalfi Coast?”

His gaze drops slowly.

Heat flares in my belly like wildfire.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

His deep voice sends a shiver through me. I don't understand why I feel this electrifying pull toward a complete stranger. There is something about him that makes every sensible thought in my head disappear.

He rises to his feet and takes a step toward me.

My eyes roam over his body.

His presence is overwhelming. The veins in his arms stand out, and his black shirt clings to his sculpted chest. Heat rushes to my cheeks as an unwanted thought crosses my mind—his body pressed against mine, tangled together beneath the sheets, surrounded by nothing but heat and desire.

No.

I shake my head.

But he takes another step closer.

I stop breathing.

My hand moves on its own, pressing against his solid chest as though I need the small distance between us to keep myself grounded. His lips come dangerously close to mine.

With a single finger, he brushes a strand of hair away from my face and tucks it behind my ear.

“You want a good fuck, right?” he asks out of the blue.

A shiver runs down my spine at his words, but I am already too far gone to think twice. Every reasonable thought flies straight out the window.

“We should get a room,” I whisper, barely recognizing my own voice.

What is wrong with me?

This is madness.

Yet I don't want to think or analyze what I'm doing. For once, I just want to feel something other than this aching emptiness that has been consuming me.

“Are you sure about this?” His voice is soft, but there is still an edge to it.

I nod.

His gaze pins me in place.

“Remember, you asked for this,” he says.

His lips crash against mine.

His hands move over me, setting fire to every inch of my body. Every nerve seems to awaken at once, responding to the heat between us.

He lifts me as though I weigh nothing and carries me through the hallway.

When we reach the room, I don't wait.

My hand reaches for his belt, and I tug at it as my body pushes him backward. His knees hit the edge of the bed, and he falls onto it.

God, what am I doing?

I have never done this before. I've only ever imagined it in my fantasies, never believing I would actually find myself here, alone with a stranger who makes it impossible for me to think clearly.

My finger reaches into his pants and pulls out his cock. It is already rock hard, throbbing, with the head swollen and red in the dim light.

“Fuck, you are big.”

I lick my lips as I wrap my hand around the base, open my mouth wide, and take him in all at once.

My throat opens as I swallow his entire cock.

“Fuck,” he groans.

I pull back slowly, letting my tongue drag along his shaft. The head remains in my mouth as I suck hard. I can feel the pressure building in his cock, drawing precum from the tip. I swallow, taste, and moan.

My head bobs up and down faster and faster as my hand works the base, squeezing and twisting while my mouth takes the rest. My tongue finds every sensitive spot, my lips tight around his shaft, my throat opening as I take him deep.

I gag with a choking sound. Saliva drips down my chin, but I still don't pull away.

He pushes me back down. This time, he fucks my mouth while holding my head and thrusting into my throat. His cock slides in and out of my wet, warm mouth, and I moan around him.

“Stand up,” he tells me.

I stand and pull off my tank top. My breasts spill free, and he grabs them, squeezing before pushing them together until my cleavage forms a tight channel.

“Put your cock between them,” I whisper.

He slides his cock between my breasts. I press my breasts together with my hand, creating a tight tunnel for him to fuck.

He thrusts slowly at first, his cock disappearing between my tits.

“Now, fuck them,” I say. “Fuck my tits.”

He grabs my shoulder and fucks my tits. His cock slides through the slick channel of my cleavage. I lean down and lick the head every time it appears.

God, I want to taste him.

I have never done this before, storing up fantasies in my head without ever imagining that I would act on them.

He pushes me onto the bed and spreads my thighs apart. My pussy is bare, red, clean-shaven, and wet.

He leans down and licks me.

“Fuck.”

I arch my back.

He licks from bottom to top, his tongue flat against my slit, taking in all my wetness. He circles my clit with the tip of his tongue, and my hips buck against his face.

“Your mouth,” I gasp. “Don't stop.”

He eats me like he is starving. His tongue pushes inside me, fucking my clit. I grip his hair and pull harder, my thighs closing around his head.

He brings his hand to my clit. My walls clench around his finger as he pumps it in and out.

“Yes, like that. Fuck me with your finger.”

He adds a second and then a third. My pussy swallows his fingers as my wetness drips down his hand.

“Now, fuck me, please. Put your cock in me.”

He stands and positions himself between my legs. He grabs his cock and slaps it against my pussy.

“Please,” I beg shamelessly.

He pauses.

His eyes hold mine.

Then his lips curve slightly before he whispers, “Do you know who I am?”