Bellissimo Lotta (Beautiful Struggle): Companion Novel to Bellissimo Fortuna (The Family Trilogy Book 2) (7 page)

Me: I was never a boy scout. What exactly should I be prepared for?

Bianca: Come horny and rested. Those are the only qualifications I require tonight.

Me: Always horny when it comes to you and even if I were exhausted you would make sure I was “up.”

Bianca: Dork.

I hesitate. I want to type ‘you’re a dork’ back to her, but I just put my phone back in my pocket, help Bronson unload our stuff, and head home for a shower.

I waver, afraid to knock on the door. Is this right? How are we going to handle things after this? I’m like a fucking girl worrying about the future; she’s wanton and waiting, and I’m standing here focusing on my feelings. Fuck that. I rap my knuckles against the door. She answers wearing a short, indecent, blue robe.

“Damn,” is all I can muster.

She grabs me by the shirt and pulls me inside. I manage to kick the door shut and lock it as she attacks me. I grab her by the ass and lift her against my body. Her legs circle my waist, and I instantly make my way to the bed. She is grinding on me with each step, and my dick is in pain, confined by my shorts.

No words are spoken as I toss her in the middle of the bed and follow her down. Sure, we’ve fooled around; she’s given me a hand job, and I’ve let her dry hump me until she came, but tonight there is nothing stopping us. I don’t feel like we are hiding anything, and she’s come to terms with people knowing. I untie her robe to find she is nude underneath. Her tan skin has a film of goose bumps across it, and I haven’t touched her. I bring my hand up; starting at her neck, I skim it down one side of her body, down to her ankle, and start the ascent up the other side.

Her breathing becomes labored, and she hasn’t moved her eyes from mine. I bend my head down and capture her nipple in my mouth, licking, sucking, and nibbling. Her hips rise up, drawing my attention to her bare pussy. I suck in a quick breath, needing to regain my composure, or this will be over before I begin. I draw a circle over her stomach, inching my way closer to her core. My middle finger swipes down from her clit to her opening, and the moisture pooling is enough for me to snap. I ease one finger in as I cover her clit with my thumb, pressing down and rubbing circles.

Her moan is unabashed, and she doesn’t look embarrassed by the sounds she is making. We maintain our eye contact. I add another finger, pushing them in and out, feeling her get wetter. She is lifting her hips, meeting me thrust for thrust, creating more friction on her clit. Once she comes, I bring my fingers to my mouth and lick them clean. Her eyes are barely open but filled with satisfaction.

“
Leccami la figa,” she whispers. I have no clue what she said, but the accent and Italian make my dick harder. If that’s even possible.

“What?” She repeats it again. “English, Bianca.” Her eyes widen, and I know she doesn’t realize she is speaking Italian. Her reaction makes me want to strut around like a peacock.

“Lick my pussy,” she says in English this time, and I shock myself by not coming on the spot.

“Fuck.” I rip my shirt off and step out of my shoes and shorts at mach-1 speed. She grins like a Cheshire cat. Little imp. She knows what she’s doing to me. “Your wish is my command.” I delve between her legs and lap up the juices she’s coated in. I tense my tongue and use it to spear into her pussy, holding her hips with my hands so she can’t move. Moving my tongue up to circle her clit, I keep the pressure off the bundle of nerves making her suffer and groan in frustration.

“Please, Dakota.”

I look up in her eyes, “Please, what?”

“Make me come.”

“Again?”

She nods, but I’m not giving into her easily. I bite her clit softly, and she tries to buck her hips. Her toes are curling, hands fisting the bedspread. I go back to her opening and curl my tongue up, licking a few times. She lets go of the bedspread to grab my head, pushing it tightly against her pussy. I get the hint.

Her clit is hard and pulsing in my mouth as I suck it relentlessly. Her screams and the stiffening of her body are my only warnings as she lets go. Grabbing my shorts and getting a condom, I hurriedly sheath my dick.

I grab her legs, “Spread wide, baby.” She obeys. I know this is going to hurt her, but I can’t stop myself. I plunge deep inside her, watching her eyes cloud with pain, she gasps, biting her lip containing the scream she wants to let out. I cover her mouth with mine, kissing her and trying to absorb the hurt I caused. “Sorry,” I mumble against her lips.

She rotates her hips in circles underneath me. I pull out and push back in. She winces, and I know it isn’t comfortable for her. I move in and out as gently as I can, letting her get accustomed to me. She adjusts after a few strokes and begins to push up every time I sink into her. Fast and hard, she is setting the tempo. I grab her thighs and push them up towards her chest and rise to my knees so I can get deeper. I have this need to crawl inside her. Thrust after thrust, I’m chasing my release, and she is keeping pace with me. I let go of one leg and reach down to rub her clit and suction my mouth to her nipple. I pinch her clit at the same time I bite her nipple, and she erupts, clenching and squeezing my cock until I come, harder than I can ever remember.

Bianca doesn’t fuck like a virgin. She fucks with no end in sight, with wild abandonment, with reckless fervor. She fucks like she wants to live life; whole-heartedly, with no fear.

If this is just fucking, why do I feel a pressure in my chest? It’s as if something is trying to penetrate my skin and embed itself in my soul.

“You’re quiet.”

I brush her hair back from her face. “Just in awe.”

“This is a sport I can throw my whole self into.” She smiles at me, and it reaches her eyes. It’s not one of the smiles she throws out to keep people from looking in, questioning, or being concerned with her. It knocks me on my ass.

“I’d say you would definitely medal in it as an Olympic sport.”

“Gold?”

“Silver and Bronze also. “ I search her face, trying to find the words to convey what this means. “Bianca, what you just gave me, thank you.”

She sits up and tosses her hair over her shoulder, “It was sex, Dakota. It wasn’t a kidney.” She scoots off the bed and disappears into the bathroom before I can form a thought. She was loud and clear. Only sex. This changes nothing. And to think I was the one who was afraid she would make it complicated. Not be able to disassociate emotions and sex. Joke is on me. This seems to be my issue. One I’ve never experienced.

We are afraid to care too much, for fear that the other person does not care at all.

~
Eleanor Roosevelt

Chapter 7

Bianca

I’m still tingling as I hurry to the bathroom. Holy shit! Through the pain of him thrusting into me, I found such pleasure. The slow burn began low in my stomach and raged into a firestorm until I exploded. I had to bite the inside of my lip to keep the tears at bay. I kept telling myself this was just sex as he gazed into my eyes and I spiraled out of control. Then he fucking thanked me, and I had to disassociate myself before I ended up admitting my feelings. He gets me. He makes me feel safe. He makes me feel treasured. I don’t want to feel those things, and I don’t want to give him more of a hold over me than he has.

I turn the water as hot as it will go and climb in the shower. I bury my face into the spray and let the tears flow. I’ve made a mess of something that was supposed to be fun, supposed to be on my terms. I’ve fallen for Dakota. I feel the cool rush of air against my back, and his hands wrap around my waist. I’m pulled back against his solid chest.

“You okay?”

I turn my head. “Fine.” I should have locked the door. I need another minute to get myself under control.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” If he’s saying he’s sorry he slept with me, I’ll be mortified.

“If I hurt you. If I put too much pressure on you. Fuck, Bianca, you make my head spin. I don’t know what’s up or down with you.”

I take a deep breath. “It’s fine, Dakota. That was kind of intense.”

“You have the lead here, Bianca. Tell me what to do. Tell me what you need.”

“A minute.” He places a kiss on my shoulder and buries his head in the crook of my neck, his arms still holding me. My body betrays me and relaxes back into his embrace, and I begin to tremble.

“Take a minute. I’m right here. I’ve got you.” That voice whispering in my ear sets off more waterworks. Turning me to face him, he holds me tighter, tucking my cheek against his steady heartbeat. No words pass as he lets me cry, my tears mixing with the water.

I’m gaining some semblance of composure, and I step back. “I’m sorry. I’m acting like such a girl.”

He chuckles. “It’s okay. You’re allowed.”

I smile at him and laugh. He lets me go long enough to turn off the water. Drying me off and being extra gentle with me, he pulls me back into the room. Instead of going to the bed, he sits down in the chair and pulls me in his lap. His lips skim over my shoulder again and I sigh.

“Want to talk about it?”

“It was just more than I thought it would be.”

“More good? Or more bad?”

“Honestly, I couldn’t have prepared myself for it. I had all kinds of delusions in my head, but to feel your tongue on me, your hands touching every inch of me, and filling me up was nothing I could have ever dreamed of. It was more. I felt completed.” I swear he wants to pound his chest. He looks quite enamored with himself.

“Why’d you freak?”

“I’ve set all the boundaries in my mind, aligned us to avoid failure, but then I blurred those lines. Then you thanked me and looked so happy in the moment, I freaked.”

“
You’ve
made the boundaries,
not
me. Don’t you want more?”

“I don’t know that I can give you more. I don’t want to risk myself. It’s hard to explain.”

“How about we go one day at a time? No titles, except you’re mine. No other guys. No other girls for me, but we go into this with our eyes wide open. If it’s too much for you, tell me.”

“Is that what you want?”

“No. I want a title. I want you by my side. But more than all of that, I want to give you what you need, so I’ll take whatever you offer me.”

“God, Dakota, I feel like a bitch.”

“Never. Don’t feel like that. You’re being honest, and you aren’t there yet. One day you will be.”

“What if I’m not?” Something keeps holding me back, and I’m letting my fear dictate my actions. I hate this weakness.

“Then I’ll have you for as long as you’ll let me.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt. That’s the last thing I ever want to do.”

“I know. But in life, there’s pain. It’s a risk I’m willing to take.” He winks at me and pulls my head down to his chest.

“I’ll try. For you, I’ll try.”

“Thank you.” He holds me until I drift off to sleep, and for the first time since being with him, I feel free. He allows me to be whatever I need to be. I don’t want to hide anymore.

You know what they say . . . two steps forward and three back. Or give him an inch, and he’ll take a mile.

“So are you going to prom with Dakota?” Callie asks me.

“Yes.”

“And you’re still sticking to the story that y’all aren’t a couple?”

“We aren’t.”

“Bullshit. You date. You have sex. You’re joined at the hip. You bicker. But you aren’t dating?”

“He’s important.”

“Holy shit, Binks. You sound like you’re quoting The fucking Help.
You is important.
One day you are going to open your eyes, and I pray to God it isn’t too late. “

“Thank you,
Dr. Phil
. Tell me how all your advice is working for you? Is Bronson boning you yet? Has he petted the kitty? How many screaming orgasms have you had? You worry about your love life and let me worry about what Dakota and I are doing.”

I hate being mean to my best friend, but no one else knows what’s best for me, and this is working. For now. It’s been three months, and it’s
working
. I don’t want to rock the boat. No labels. No expectations.