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24

ALESSIA

M y parents want us to stay the night, so once everyone left and my family settled in for the night, Romiro and I make our way up the stairs to my bedroom. The moment I step inside, warmth wraps around me—a soft, late summer night warmth that feels like a memory brought back to life. My eyes trace the familiar arches sweeping high above, shadowed now, but somehow just as grand and alive in the darkness. The scent of jasmine drifts toward me from the vase near the bed, and I know my mamma put it there. She always does.

Everything here feels soft, muted. The bedding is like a sea of cream, smooth and untouched, each fold catching a whisper of light from the hallway. The windows pull me in next. Tall and proud, they stretch up into the shadows, the glass a patchwork of faint reflections and tiny starlit glimmers. Beyond them, the night sprawls endlessly, quiet and dark, just a hint of sky pressing against the glass.

Romiro stands beside me, taking it all in. I feel his quiet admiration, the way his gaze lingers on the details—the carved moldings, the graceful sweep of curtains framing the windows. I feel the parquet floor cool beneath my bare feet, grounding me in something unchanging. This room, this place—it’s like stepping back into another version of myself. Each detail whispers of the past, familiar and untouched, as though it’s waited patiently for me to return. Nerves swirl at the pit of my stomach; I have a surprise for him, and I hope he’ll enjoy it.

I turn to look at him and find him staring at me with his hands tucked into the pocket of his black pants, his eyes full of raw lust, full of a furious need to touch me. I guess that’s how we’ve always looked at each other, even before we knew how to deal with it. I swallow back whatever nervousness I’m feeling and tell him, “I have a surprise for you.”

He lifts a singular brow at me and asks, “Oh really?” I nod. “And what might it be?”

I open my small handbag and feel around for the smooth—slightly squishy—cylinder. Then I find it…the cool sensation pushing into the heat of my palm, it’s unmistakable. As I wrap my fingers around it, there’s an odd mix of arousal and embarrassment bubbling up. The bottle is small, rounded at the edges, easy to grip, yet my hand tightens around it just a little too hard, maybe out of a lingering tension. I pull it out, and glance down, avoiding Romiro’s scorching gaze.

“Turn around and walk to the bed. Leave the bottle on the nightstand,” he commands, shutting my bedroom door behind him, locking us both in and locking the rest of the world out. I do as I’m told, but I add a gentle sway to my round, full hips, feeling his wild gaze on my back and ass. I can sense his need for ownership even without him having to say it. I prop the bottle up right on the nightstand and turn to look at him, He hasn’t moved an inch but I can tell by the tic in his jaw that he wants to pounce on me. Romiro lifts one of his hands to his stubbled jaw, swiping his thumb over the edge. “Strip.”

“W-what?”

“You heard me, Red.”

My panties are soaking wet with my arousal, and my hands go to the back of my dress. My fingers tremble as I unzip it and allow the dress to pool around my feet—standing only in my underwear. He watches me for a beat, the muscles underneath his shirt moving with precision.

“All of it.”

I unhook my bra, letting it join my dress, my nipples hardening instantly. And it’s less to do with the cold air that floats in through the open window and more because of his scorching, dark gaze. Romiro looks like he’s ready to devour me.

A shiver makes its way down my spine as I hook my thumbs in either side of my panties and slide them down my legs, piling them with the rest of my clothes.

“Get on your knees at the foot of the bed, face against the mattress, and raise your ass in the air.” Sucking in a deep breath, I drop into the position, the friction of the duvet against my breasts has me biting down on my lips to stifle a moan. Romiro’s footsteps ring out, slow and deliberate. The sound of him unbuckling his belt echoes and bounces off the walls. I dig my fingers into the soft mattress and turn to watch him.

“Eyes ahead.” I pout, not wanting to miss him stripping, but he lets out a deep chuckle before saying, “You’ll get to do what you want another time. Tonight, I’m punishing you for being such a tease.” I face ahead. He tsks before adding, “What were you thinking? Bringing lube to your parents’ house?”

“I was—” Romiro pushes my face into the mattress, his mouth against my ear.

“That was a rhetorical question, and I didn’t allow you to speak, Alessia. Now be a good girl and grab your ass cheeks and spread them, show me that tight hole that you want to give to me.” Fuck. My arousal drips down my inner thigh. My hands tremble, but I obey his command. God. He’s being so rough today. He’s never told me to do this before, it only adds more stimulation to my already glistening sex, and he hasn’t even touched me. I pull my cheeks apart, fully aware that my hole, and the juices that coat my pussy and inner thighs are on full display for his eyes. His footsteps ring out again, he walks away from me before coming back to stand right behind me. I feel him kneel behind me, his heat radiating down my back. “I’ll start with your ass. And if you’ll be good for me, I’ll fuck your tight pussy.” My thighs quiver at the image he’s painting. Romiro’s savage when he fucks, and I know better to expect anything other than that tonight.

“Tell me Red, has anyone ever fucked your ass?” he asks me.

“No.”

“And no one will get to, other than me. Don’t move,” he commands and I obey. My heart beats like a drum as he repositions himself, the mattress dipping under his weight. A cold liquid covers my hole and before I can focus on the sensation, Romiro forces two fingers inside my ass. He’s slow at first. I can’t help the small gasps leaving my lips, pushing my face into the mattress as I try to muffle them.

“Shh, baby. You don’t want your parents to hear the dirty sounds you make with your boyfriend’s fingers in that tight ass, now do you?” he whispers, his lips brushing against my earlobe.

“Romi—” I try to speak but a smack on my ass stops me. Did he? Oh, my God. He did. He fucking spanked me; I don’t have time to even process it. Romiro rubs his hand over my butt, soothing the stinging sensation.

“I didn’t allow you to speak, now did I? Now be good, and hold still while I loosen this hole so it can…accommodate my size.” My body burns as he thrusts his fingers slowly, in and out. But before I know what he’s doing, he’s slipping his fingers out and positioning his cock against my entrance, running the tip against me. He grabs my hips and slams himself into me.

Holy. Fuck.

He’s so deep inside of me, and then he pulls his cock out with a ruthlessness that feels like hell and heaven at the same time. His hot breath is against my back, and whimpers escape from between my lips as he drives into me with ferocious vigor that has the bed shaking. My upper body sliding back and forth on the bed with each thrust. I grab the mattress, attempting to gain some balance, but Romiro’s voice stops me. “Don’t even think of letting go of your ass. Keep holding it.” He pulls out slower this time, almost all the way, then he rams back inside, he pushes my face into the mattress to muffle an escaped scream, my teeth scrape against the linen sheets, and I feel my insides melt.

Romiro’s free hand finds my swollen clit and he works it, twisting and stroking it, leaving me panting, begging for me. His thrusts become longer, harsher, as if he’s claiming me over and over again. With the brutality of his thrusts, I don’t last. I can’t, I come apart with a hoarse cry as he spills into me.

He pulls out and collapses next to me. Romiro’s breathing is shallow—coming out fast. I’m still reeling from that orgasm, my body tingling. The bed dips, and he disappears into the attached bathroom. When he comes back, he’s holding a wet towel in his hand. I let a low groan slip out as he runs the warm wet towel over my back, the act so intimate, I feel my heart swell. He pushes my hair out of my face, pressing a kiss to my head. Then, he holds my gaze and whispers, “Thank you for trusting me.” I give him a small, tired smile.