This electric current running through me isn’t familiar. I’ve never felt such a kaleidoscope of emotions for another person, in such a short period of time. Especially not for a man.
“Blake.” He says my name with such seriousness, it shocks me. “I’m Italian.”
“And?” I ask, confused.
“The act of consuming food is no joke,” he deadpans. “It’s our love language.”
There’s something about the genuineness in his voice that leaves me speechless. Like the presence of a love language between us isn’t odd, or uncharted territory.
Not wanting to argue, I nod softly and tug on his arm, leading him to the sectional sofa. Releasing my hold on him, I lower myself onto the couch and tuck my legs underneath my body. Fiddling with the material of my dress, I spend a little too much time trying to make sure I’m not exposing too much skin.
Noticing the room is a little too quiet, I look up to catch Rosario watching me.
“What?” I ask, self-consciously.
“Don’t cover up on my account.”
I roll my eyes at him, and he hands me a room service menu before casually lounging on the opposite side. “Is there anything particular you want to eat?”
My eyes gloss over the words staring back at me, my mind finding it very difficult to concentrate on one single thing.
My silence must clue Rosario in to my inability to make a decision, and he leans forward and plucks the menu out of my grasp.
“How about I pick for us?”
Without waiting for me to answer, he reaches behind him for the sleek hotel handset. He presses a button to connect him to the hotel kitchen and then raises it to his ear.
“Hi, could I please put in an order?” he asks the person on the other end of the line. “Yes, a twenty-minute wait time is perfect.” He places a hand over the speaker. “Are you allergic to anything?”
I shake my head at him, curious about what he’s going to pick.
He smirks at me and winks as he relays a long and extensive list of delicious sounding dishes, without even looking at the menu. It’s clear his eyes are bigger than his stomach, because as he continues to rattle off more items, my mind can’t comprehend how he thinks we’ll fit it all in.
There’s currently a flurry of butterflies causing a ruckus in my stomach. Being in Rosario’s presence and anticipating the way the night will unfold, I’ll be lucky to even manage a salad.
“So, is this how you woo all the girls?” I ask, a little more relaxed as he places the receiver back down, ending the call.
“With food?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s usually a solid start,” he answers smugly.
“You’re so sure of yourself.” The words are intended to be a slight insult, but the smile that involuntary spreads across my face reveals I have absolutely no problem with Rosario’s cockiness.
“You don’t seem to mind,” he says with a matching grin.
Shrugging, I feign nonchalance. “It’s somewhat impressive.”
“Oh, really?” He scoots across the length of the couch and grabs my feet, dragging my legs from under my body. “Just somewhat, huh?”
“I thought we were taking it slow,” I squeal.
“Your clothes are still on.” He drapes my legs over his and slips his hands underneath my dress, his fingertips ghosting along my skin. “That’s the definition of slow.”
My breath catches at his touch, a delicious shiver racing through me that doesn’t go unnoticed. “Tell me what you’d do,” I say boldly, completely disregarding the distance I was so eager to put between us only moments ago. “If we were moving at your pace, what would you do first?”
“Blake,” he warns. “You’re playing with fire.”
“Tell me,” I repeat, my voice thick with need.
His hands slide farther up my dress, gripping my hips. “You’re too far away from me for this conversation to happen.”
Effortlessly, he maneuvers me onto his lap, till my thighs are straddling his, and my dress is falling around us, hiding the way my lace-covered center grazes the length of the thickening bulge in his pants.
He hisses at the contact, and it takes everything in me not to shamelessly rub myself against him. Rosario’s eyes bore into mine, and he swallows hard, the effort of his self-control noticeable in all his features.
“If we weren’t going slow, you’d be sitting on me, naked” he starts, his voice low and gravelly. “I’d start by kissing you.” He raises a hand to my face, his palm on my cheek, his thumb tracing the shape of my mouth. “I would start off slow,” he teases. “Light, soft pecks. Over and over,” he continues. “Then I’d deepen the kiss. Slide my tongue between these beautiful, plush lips.”
I swallow hard, and his eyes drop to my neck. He brushes his knuckles down the column of my throat and across my collarbone while continuing with his verbal foreplay.
“I’d kiss every inch of your skin,” he tells me. “Down the valley of your tits.” His fingers dip in the exact place he’s just mentioned, and my skin pebbles in goose bumps. “Then I’d spend a decent amount of time licking your nipples.”
His gaze flicks back up to mine as he brings his hands to my covered breasts and cups them gently. His thumbs draw whisper-soft circles over my nipples, and even through the padded layers, I can feel them harden under his light touch.
Holding his stare, I exhale loudly while my body shamelessly shudders in arousal. My hips shift involuntarily, and I’m dragging myself along Rosario’s obvious erection, desperate for some kind of friction.
“You’re imagining it aren’t you,” he breathes, his eyes still locked on mine, his hands now finding purchase underneath my dress.
“I wouldn’t stop,” he admits, gripping my thighs. “My mouth would be all over you while my fingers… fuck.” My breathing quickens when his hands still at the apex of my thighs. Splayed against my heated skin, he feels so close, but just not close enough. “I’d drive you fucking crazy with my fingers, sliding them inside of you,” he says huskily.
His words are dipped in sex, and every part of me struggles to remain still and unaffected. The salacious smirk on Rosario’s face tells me he knows he’s got me right where he wants me. And there’s no one else to blame but myself. I said I wanted to take it slow, but when he threw the bait, there wasn’t any other option in my mind but to take it.
Who was I kidding? I needed to feel this man. Feel him soon. Feel his large, capable hands on me and in me.
“Do you want to know what comes next?” he asks, his fingers teasing the edge of my panties, his mouth now right by my ear. “Do you want to hear about how I would kiss my way down your stomach?” I feel the tip of his thumb gently slide up and down the fabric covering my center. “Do you want me to tell you about how I’d move down your body till my tongue met my fingers and I fuck your pussy with both?”
“Rio,” I pant, letting my head fall back in resignation and my body slowly rub against his, wanting more. “Please.”
The plea slips past my lips and past my remaining defenses. It’s been so long since I’ve felt this turned on.