Page 49

Didn’t have a lot of time might have actually been an understatement. It was only a matter of time before someone figured out I was missing, too, and their thoughts ran away from them. Rocco would be the first to question things.

The time was practically ticking with every throb I felt from his cock at my entrance. He sank inside me and brought himself to the hilt in one strong, urgent thrust that had me arching my back and letting out a moan of pleasure in response. Geez, that felt good. Why wasn’t he moving, though?

“You okay?” he asked, his eyes on mine, concentrated on me in a way that made me feel slightly too seen. It felt too emotional. Not what this was supposed to be at all.

I cleared my throat and rolled my eyes, trying to make it seem like it was no big deal at all to have my best friend deep inside me. I mean, who cared anyway? It wasn’t like we were going to make a habit out of this or anything.

Although, I might not have minded doing it again.

At least one more time. You know, just because I felt like I was getting robbed out of the full experience since this was purely a get-in-and-get-out mission.

I’d always heard Dominic Deluca was a god when it came to sex.

At least, that was what his girlfriends had insisted on telling me even though I had never asked.

I finally nodded my assurance that I was indeed okay. “You going to rev your engine sometime today?”

He gave me an arrogant smirk. “Wow. I always thought lasagna was your dish of choice. I’m beginning to think you’d take a helping of cock if you had the option.”

I ran my hands across his back and over the angel wings tattooed there that I wished I could run my tongue over. What? We were friends, but I wasn’t blind. Dom was attractive, plain and simple.

He was tall, dark, and handsome with the body of a builder and the face of a model.

Which made sense since he was, in fact, a model.

He didn’t have a pretty boy look but wasn’t exactly rough-around-the-edges either.

He was somewhere in between, and I couldn’t say I hated it.

My body was definitely turned on by his looks.

Either that or it was the monstrosity of manhood that was currently taking up residence inside me.

He thrust inside me over and over again, my breasts brushing the satin of my dress with the intense strength of his thrusts.

The only thing that filled the air besides the waves crashing against the shoreline just outside the room was the sound of arousal as his hips slapped mine, and he pounded into me like the world was ending and this would be the last time two people would ever have sex.

He pulled on my thighs, placing his hands on the back of them. I knew what he was doing—trying to fuck me from a better angle—so I assisted, wrapping my legs higher around his waist. My feet nearly hit his ears as I contorted for him to forcefully thrust deeper.

I almost felt bad because I had kept something from him.

Maybe he wouldn’t have done this with me had he known about my dirty, little secret.

Although, there was nothing dirty or little about it, and it technically wasn’t even a secret.

It was just that Dom didn’t know about it yet.

The truth was, I was broken. I couldn’t orgasm.

It was a problem my ex-boyfriends had. The only person who had ever been able to get over the fact that I’d likely never orgasm had been my kid’s late father.

“Show me what it feels like to come,” I mumbled, not sure if I wanted him to hear me.

If I was being honest, I guessed I hoped he didn’t hear me.

It would surely make it a lot simpler. Although, he’d know soon enough because I didn’t want to fake it.

I’d done it before with an ex, and it was obvious.

I was always real with Dom, though. This should have been no different, right?

If he did hear me, then he didn’t respond, only continued pumping as we found our rhythm, and I waited for the moment I’d been waiting a lifetime for.

But nothing.

He knew it, too.

“Come, Maria,” he demanded, the bedsprings whining. “Come because I’m barely holding on here.”

Shit. This was embarrassing.

I was overthinking it. That was the problem. That was always the problem. But it was hard not to. I wanted to do it, and it was like the more I wanted it, the less likely it was to happen. Talk about a vicious cycle.

So, with every thrust, I tried my hardest to change my mindset.

I wasn’t broken.

It wasn’t me.

I could orgasm.

I would orgasm.

And I wanted to come for Dom. For me.

He shifted, moving one of his hands to my clit as his thumb gently rubbed, first in slow, torturous circular motions before quickening the pace.

Then he pressed his thumb there, and that should have done something.

It should have sent me over the edge. I should have been in clouds of euphoria right now.

But nope. Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch. All right, you got the notion.

Absolutely nothing came of it.

I watched his body go rigid, his eyes grow darker as a lust-filled haze covered his pupils, and then he continued thrusting until he rode out the last of his high.

Our bodies were covered in sweat, and he was out of breath as he pulled out of me, gave me a peck on the lips, and rolled over beside me.

I laid on my back, my hands sprawled out beside me as I stared up at the ceiling. “So,” I started, hoping he was going to ignore the elephant in the room.

“You didn’t come,” he blurted out in between pants, blowing my thought to smithereens. “Was it not good for you?”

“What?” I yelled, practically shrieking. I shook my head and placed a hand on his chest, feeling the beat of his heart. “No! It was great. Might have actually been the best sex I’ve had,” I admitted, without giving it further thought.

The corner of his lips turned upward. “The best, you say?”

I pointed a finger at him and chuckled. “Hey, don’t get all cocky now.”

“So why didn’t you orgasm?”

I shrugged. “I’m broken.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“It’s true. I’ve never orgasmed.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

He whistled. “That doesn’t seem fair. No one you’ve been with has tried?”

“They have. It just doesn’t work. It’s fine. I don’t need to orgasm.”

“Maria, everyone needs to orgasm.”

I shifted on the bed, pulling my dress down and slipping from the bed in search of my panties. “Dom, please let this go.” Hi, yes, world’s most awkward conversation, meet Maria. Maria, meet the world’s most awkward conversation. It might have been less so if he wasn’t my best friend.

“If we didn’t have to get back out there, I’d accept this as a challenge, and we wouldn’t leave this room until I gave my friend a mind-blowing orgasm. Call it an early birthday gift.” That’s some birthday gift.

“Too bad we don’t have that kind of time,” I replied, sticking my tongue in my cheek as my mind ran away from me with ideas. None of which seemed any good.

“And this was a one-time thing,” he added, almost as if waiting for me to correct him.

Could he read my mind? That was sort of what I was thinking not even a second ago. I just didn’t want to say anything. Maybe I should—say something, that was. Hmm. . . let me think about it.

Thinking about it. . . .

Still thinking. . . .

Yep, my answer wasn’t changing. Maybe it didn’t have to be the only time we had sex. I mean, who said it had to be? “What if it wasn’t?” I pondered aloud.

“Maria?” Dom looked at me and cocked a brow, then went back to collecting his clothes one by one and getting dressed.

“What if we did this again?” I asked nonchalantly, stepping into my heels and tossing his shoes to him.

No reason to make a big deal out of it. We did it once, we could do it twice, or we could do it ninety times (oof, that sounded like a lot, actually), what was the difference?

We’d seen each other naked, he’d entered me, I’d confessed never having an orgasm.

I’d say our friendship had already reached new levels today.

He bent down and put his shoes on, the shiny patent leather catching my eye. “What are you proposing?” he questioned.

I pursed my lips. There was no turning back now, so I might as well just say it.

“Let’s be friends with benefits.” I looked in the mirror, adjusted my boobs in my gown, and fixed my hair before turning my attention to my lips.

“Only when we’re single and need a fix.” Like my lips, they needed a fix—but of a different kind.

My lipstick was practically all gone. Too bad my purse that held my lipstick was still at the table. “But there will have to be rules.”

“What kind of rules?”

I hadn’t really given it any thought at all.

But there should’ve been rules, right? My mind turned over a few simple rules quick enough, touching on only the things that really mattered.

“One, it’s just sex, no emotions. Two, no one finds out.

I’d hate for our families to get on our case.

Finally, three, and this is the most important rule, we cannot let it ruin our friendship. ”

Dom grinned, tossing me a flirty wink that had me rolling my eyes.

“Done.” It was a good thing I was immune to his charming demeanor.

The grin followed by the wink was one of his signature panty-dropping moves.

No words necessary, only body language. Which led to more body language, if you caught my drift.

Oh, who was I kidding? I wasn’t exactly being subtle.

I nodded, my hand on the door. That was that, then. Dom and I were officially friends with benefits. I made out like a bandit here because his benefits were definitely something I was interested in. “Come on, I want dessert.”

“If you want dessert, then don’t leave this room and get ready to have an orgasm.”

Tossing back my head, I laughed. “Watch out, big boy. You don’t want your head to become inflated. You won’t be able to walk out the door.”

“Just stating facts,” Dom said simply, stepping behind me and holding the door open for me to leave first.

Keep reading Better Left Unsaid now.

This friends-to-lovers, friends with benefits rom-com is part of The Morelli Sisters interconnected standalone series.