Page 26 of The Road to You

His laugh is quiet and close. Too close. When I turn, he’s just a foot away, his hands in his pockets, his body still and tall in the low cave light. His eyes are darker than usual, deeper somehow, and the flicker of a smirk on his lips doesn’t hide the heat behind them.

“You sure you’re not the one who needs reassurance now?” he says softly.

My breath catches. Because no, I’m not sure of anything in this moment except how aware I am of him.

The closeness. The memory of his hand brushing mine on the boat.

His thigh pressed against mine at dinner.

His scent—sun, and soap, and something inherently him —makes the air feel thicker in my lungs.

I swallow. “We’ll be fine,” I say again. But this time, it comes out breathless.

He lifts a brow, not saying a word, but his eyes drop to my mouth for half a second too long.

I step away, pretending to admire the cave wall, pretending I’m not seconds away from combusting. “So…should we unpack or just strip down and use that fantastic shower?”

Michele laughs again, but there’s an edge that sounds a lot like nervousness. “You first. I’ll just be over here…trying to remember that we’re keeping our hands to ourselves.”

With just those few words, the tension rises again, curling around us like the warm light in the room. It buzzes beneath our itched breaths, coils in the space between our glances, and lingers in every brush of silence.

This place is too beautiful. Too intimate. Too perfect.

And suddenly, I’m not thinking about the heat or the caves or even the day. I’m thinking about tonight, and the way this room was made for everything we keep trying not to say.

By the time I step out of the shower, my skin is flushed, and not just from the heat.

The water didn’t help. If anything, it made everything worse.

I spent way too long thinking about Michele’s hands, the flex of his muscles, the way his voice drops when he teases me, the way he kissed my cheek last night like he wanted more but was holding back.

Now, wrapped in nothing but the hotel’s impossibly soft white robe, I feel the fabric cling to the damp curves of my body. It’s a poor excuse for armor against the storm brewing inside me.

I pad barefoot into the bedroom and then stop in my tracks.

He’s on the bed. Sprawled across the mattress like he owns the whole damn thing.

His legs hang off the edge, his arms are stretched above his head, and he’s wearing only a pair of black boxers.

The rest of him is glorious. Sun-kissed skin, sculpted abs, that line of muscle that dips beneath his waistband in a perfect V.

He looks like sin in human form. And he’s staring at the ceiling like he’s trying really hard not to look at the bathroom. Or maybe he’s trying to talk himself out of something.

But then he does look at me

And I see it—all of it—in his eyes. The hunger, the heat, the wild, burning want . His gaze drags over me like a touch, dark and slow, and I feel the throb between my legs pulse harder.

I don’t think. I don’t speak. I just move.

“Fuck it,” I whisper.

He sits up slightly, like he thinks I might say something else, but I don’t. I cross the room in a few long strides, my robe parting just enough to make him swallow hard. His eyes stay locked on mine until I’m climbing onto the bed and straddling his hips.

He opens his mouth—maybe to speak, maybe to stop me—but I kiss him before he can say anything.

And God, the way he kisses me back. It’s all fire and tension and the crash of something we’ve been holding back for far too long.

The world disappears. The cave, the bed, the quiet buzz of life beyond the thick stone walls. They all fall away. There’s only us. The sound of breath, of skin, of his voice as he groans softly into my mouth when my hands rake through his hair.

He cups my ass firmly with his big, strong hands and drags me toward his hardening shaft. My sensitive clit presses against the fabric, and I moan when a shiver of pleasure runs up my spine.

Michele’s mouth is a piece of art. Made for kissing and nipping and devouring mine by God himself.

His soft full lips suck on my lower one, and when his tongue slips into mine his long, sensual strokes make me dizzy.

He takes his time savoring me, exploring the sensation of this kiss.

It’s different from the previous ones. It’s more deliberate, dirty, and driven by a goal that we’re both craving. There is no going back from here.

His long fingers slip from my buttcheeks to my core, stroking the seams with lazy exploring movements. When his digits go deep, tentatively stroking my opening, he breaks our kiss to lean back and look me in the eyes.

“You are soaking wet,” he states in surprise.

He is so serious that he knocks the air out of my lungs.

I let out a disbelief-filled giggle. “You’re here, your whole glorious body on display, what did you expect? I’d have to be blind not to get turned on by you.”

He chuckles, stroking his fingers on my sensitive parts and making me quiver. “I was only trying to cool down, I swear.”

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, sure. Keep telling yourself that.”

His chuckles fade into a deep groan when he grabs a fistful of my hair and sinks his tongue into my mouth again in a frenzied, ravenous kiss that takes my breath away.

This is the Michele I always imagined behind the gentleman who accompanied me on this journey.

Possessive, passionate, and entirely uninhibited.

Gone is the respectful touch, his wild side takes over as he tilts my head to the side to deepen the kiss.

I have never been kissed like this, like he’s trying to mark me so deep I’ll never get rid of his imprint.

His hips push hard against my core, making me feel the entire length of his now hard and glorious cock. I whimper when one of his hands wraps around my waist and pushes me down while he raises his hips.

“I need to taste you,” he whispers frantically against my lips while he easily gets rid of my robe, letting it pool on the floor.

“First, I want your boxers out of the way. Now,” I order, pushing myself up on my knees, giving him the space to slip his underwear down his muscular thighs and to the floor.

He chuckles. “I like it when you’re needy and bossy at the same time.”

A groan cuts off his words when I grab his hot, hard shaft in my hand and stroke it, lowering myself on his lap again and grinding my clit against it.

“Fuck,” he grits out, putting his hands on the bed behind him and tilting his head back.

A grin escapes my lips as I lower my gaze to his taut body, his abs clenching hard with every stroke of my hand. He is so gloriously perfect, and I can’t believe he is mine to cherish and enjoy.

“I need to taste you,” he says again, pushing himself up and grabbing my hips.

He lies on the bed and guides me to straddle his face. He thrusts me down until I’m in his mouth, moaning when his tongue traces my seam from ass to clit and my legs tremble in pleasure.

“God, I don’t know how much I can resist if you keep doing that.” I let out a desperate whimper.

I don’t know if I want him to make me come fast or take his time dragging out this blissful sensation forever.

He licks a second time, and I quiver.

“Trust me, this won’t be the only time I will make you come tonight. You taste so good I’ll be licking this pussy all night long.”

He sucks on my clit, and I let out a desperate moan while I fall forward and put my hands on the bed to hold myself up.

“I want to taste you too.” I whimper in response while I push up, gaining a disappointed groan from Michele.

He doesn’t complain too much when I shift and position myself again over his face, but this time facing his magnificent cock.

It’s long and hard, and the veins climbing up his length are pulsing, making it twitch.

A bead of precum is taunting me, and when I bend to lick its salty taste, Michele lets out a groan that reverberates on my clit and sends waves of pleasure straight to my core.

I’m so close to coming, I almost can’t breathe.

I circle the head of his cock with my tongue once, twice, three times, until his hips shoot up in need to sink into my mouth. I take him out of his misery and suck him in. Using the right amount of suction to take him deeper, but slowly enough to drive him crazy.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” he murmurs incoherently while I take him deeper and deeper.

A smile curves my lips, proud to have him at my mercy. He breathes hard against my soaked pussy and moans loudly when I let his cock slip from my lips with a loud pop.

“You are not allowed to stop back there,” I tease him.

He chuckles. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to, but you’re sucking my brain out of my cock. If I had to think to breathe, I’d be dead by now.”

It’s my turn to chuckle, and when he reprises his assault on my wet and engorged clit, I let out a moan while I sink his cock deep into my mouth. I suck and lick and bounce my head up and down while Michele drives a couple of fingers into my dripping pussy and pumps as he sucks my clit.

God bless his mouth. I’m so far up the peak of my pleasure that when he crooks his fingers inside me, hitting that perfect spot, an orgasm shatters me.

Wave after wave of immense pleasure that Michele drags out, sucking relentlessly on the bundle of nerves that is becoming more sensitive with every surge of my pleasure.

I let Michele’s cock out of my mouth and take deep breaths. I’ve never come this hard.

“You should sell the imprint of your mouth to a sex toy factory. Women would pay tons of money to have it between their legs,” I blurt out in the dizziness of my pleasure.

Michele barks out an amused laugh while he guides me to lie down on the bed and peppers my inner thigh with kisses.

“I will consider that,” he says, lapping up my wetness and making me squirm.

I look at him while he peeks a mischievous glance between my thighs and then prowls on the bed, hovering over my body and taking in every inch of my skin.

I drag my fingers in his hair and moan when he lowers his lips on my nipples, sucking and biting, in turn, each one of my sensitive peaks.

He traces his way up to my mouth, licking, kissing, and nipping my skin, and when he parts my lips in a languid kiss full of desire, I taste myself on his tongue and drag him closer.

I need to feel his hot skin against mine, touch his muscles, trace every rise and dip of his body, and commit it to memory.

It would be a shame having this glorious body against mine and not try to remember for eternity how it feels.

He is so perfect, and this feels so right, that I’m almost frightened at how it seems like fate put him on my path.

“Fuck me, please,” I whisper in his ear, and he lowers his gaze to mine with a smile on his lips.

“Well, since you ask so nicely,” he says, thrusting lazily, his hips against mine.

His shaft rubs against my sensitive clit, building up a second orgasm I’m sure will shatter me.

He pushes himself up, and I watch him fumble off the bed and hurry across the room, yanking open his bag like a man on a mission.

“Don’t move,” he mutters, not even glancing back at me.

I prop myself up on my elbows, breathless and grinning. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

He curses under his breath and then smiles when he finds the box of condoms, waving it at me with a grin. I can’t stop an amused laugh from leaving my lips.

“Do you always pack like a responsible adult?” I tease as he finds what he’s looking for.

I watch him rolling the condom down his length, biting my lip in anticipation of what is coming next.

“I’m Italian. We don’t take chances with pasta or protection.” He chuckles.

He returns to the bed, eyes smoldering, his voice a low growl. “Now, where were we?”

“Right about here,” I whisper, pulling him down with me.

He kisses me like his life depends on it. Deep and languid and desperate to possess me. I caress his pecks, appreciating the tickling feeling of his hair under my fingertips. I feel each one of his abs and grip his cock firmly with my hand as I guide it to my waiting opening.

He smiles against my lips. “Are we impatient?” he teases me.

“After two months of looking at this God-blessed goodness, yes, I’m impatient,” I remark, and he grins.

“As you wish,” he whispers in my ear while pushing deep inside me in one slow stroke.

I open my legs wide to let him settle between them and accommodate his length and girth into my wet pussy.

He fills me so good, I sigh when he starts pulling out and pushing in again.

He does it slowly, peppering my neck with kisses.

I lower my hand, grab his asscheecks, and push my hips against his, grinding my clit against him and matching his movements stroke by stroke.

My orgasm mounts again deep inside my core, and when Michele pushes up on his knees and grabs my ankles, pushing my legs up toward my head, the angle is so deep and good that when he starts thrusting deep and hard, I’m breathless.

“It’s good. It’s so fucking good,” I moan as I study the grin on his face.

His broad chest and abs flex with every thrust, and when he lets go of one of my legs to rub his thumb against my clit, I arch my back and come in a whimpering mess.

“Come for me. Come all over my cock,” he growls, a sound so deep I can feel it in my bones.

He pumps fast, deep, and hard into me, and when he comes, he lets out a low guttural sound, throwing his head back and making me breathless.

He is so powerful and masculine and perfect that it’s like having one of those ancient perfect statutes fuck you silly, only definitely packing more.

I will never tire of discovering new parts of Michele I didn’t know existed. The gentleman, the athlete, and now the rough sex god that turns me into a sweaty, moaning woman.

He lets go of my legs and lowers himself onto me, kissing and nipping my ear.

“If I’m selling my mouth imprint, I want a mold of your tits. They are so perfect, bouncing while I fuck you, I’ll spend the rest of my days fondling the mold until there is nothing left.” He chuckles, and I do too.

“Noted,” I say, kissing his neck and wrapping my arms around him.

We lay tangled in each other, our skin still warm, hearts still racing.

And in the quiet of this ancient cave, with the scent of him wrapped around me and his fingers gently tracing circles on my hip, I feel something shift.

It’s not just lust. Not just desire, but something more profound, persistent, something I’m afraid to name.

Something dangerously close to falling.