Chapter 4 : One Nightstand

POV: Elena Vázquez.

The heavy wood shoves me backward, overriding my desperate strength as if I am nothing more than a minor inconvenience. I stumble on my clumsy feet, my wine-soaked brain struggling to keep my balance as I retreat across the kitchen floor. Blaring warning sirens echo inside my panicked head, deafening and sharp. The front door swings inward, revealing the massive frame of the intruder.

The man from the alley steps right into my small apartment.

A strange, twisted part of my mind finds no surprise in seeing him here. He strolls across my threshold like he owns the place. This is the gorgeous, terrifying killer who just put a bullet in a man’s head right in front of me.

"Amore," he whispers, his deep voice wrapping around the Italian endearment. "You should lock your doors."

My body goes rigid. My blood turns to ice. He wears the same black dress shirt, stretched tight over his broad chest. He tracked me down. He followed me home.

"H–how d–d–did you..." I whisper breathlessly. I stumble over the broken words, genuine horror seizing my throat. I can barely form a coherent sentence.

He actually has the gall to let out a low, amused laugh, mocking my obvious terror.

"I assume you want to know how I found you? Mi amor, there are just some things you don't ask."

He scans my cramped apartment, ignoring my paralyzed shock. He steps forward with confident strides. His large frame closes the distance until he towers over me. I shrink back, but my shoulders hit the cold plaster of the wall. There is nowhere left to run.

"You have a habit of running away, don't you?" he states. An arrogant, knowing smirk curves his handsome lips. A small dimple appears on his cheek, a boyish trait that looks bizarre on a man this dangerously lethal.

It severely messes with my intoxicated head. How can a man so deadly look this breathtaking up close? I stare at his sharp jawline and the dark, intricate tattoos peeking out from his collar, tracing up his thick neck.

I stay quiet. I desperately control my ragged breathing. I wait for the gun to emerge from his waistband. I wait for his hands to wrap around my throat and squeeze the life out of me.

Instead, he raises his large, tattooed hands. He reaches out and strokes my hair. His stunning green eyes drift shut in deep ecstasy, as if touching me is a primal craving he has harbored for a long time. His calloused fingers glide through my strands, sending a jolt of heat down my spine.

The heavy alcohol in my bloodstream flares to life, clouding my judgment. A sudden, powerful wave of sheer boldness takes over my logical mind. I don't know what possesses me. I rise up firmly on my tiptoes. I crash my lips against his.

He jolts in shock. He steps back for a mere fraction of a second, as if an electric current just snapped through his veins. But a split second later, his piercing green eyes darken with ravenous hunger.

He aggressively closes the small space between us. He grabs my waist with bruising force and grinds his hot lips against mine.

Throwing all caution and common sense to the freezing wind, I wrap my arms tight around his thick neck. I kiss him back with an equal, desperate, burning passion, parting my lips to taste his mouth.

***

POV: Vittorio Del Carlo.

She eagerly leads me by the hand directly into her tiny, dimly lit bedroom. Before I can process her sudden shift in demeanor, she forcefully pushes me down onto the edge of the mattress. She leans provocatively over my seated frame, putting her soft cleavage on full display.

This gorgeous, unpredictable spitfire is a massive cry from the timid, trembling girl I cornered in the dark alley just an hour ago. I smell the sweet, heavy tang of red wine on her rapid breath. She has been drinking. I am no fucking gentleman anyway, so far be it from me to stop her when she willingly gives herself to me.

She rubs her soft fingers over my slightly parted lips. She licks her own mouth, trailing her tongue over her bottom lip, before she aggressively locks her mouth with mine again.

Her heated kiss is incredibly intoxicating. She parts her swollen lips with a soft moan, granting me full access. I invade her mouth with my tongue, exploring every corner hungrily. She tastes like dark alcohol and raw desire. The sensation pulls me into a daze. I can already feel the aching pressure building between my legs, my thick cock straining against the zipper of my dark pants.

When she finally parts her swollen lips from mine, I stare at her with thirsty eyes, silently begging for more. But her intense attention immediately shifts downward.

She audaciously rubs her delicate hands directly over the heavy bulge straining in my trousers. I let out a deep, guttural groan straight from my chest as her palm applies friction to my fierce erection.

Moving with frantic speed, she quickly unbuttons my pants and unzips my fly. She reaches inside my boxers and wraps her warm fingers tight around my hard cock. She pulls it out, letting it spring free, thick and throbbing in the cool air of her bedroom. She brings her face close, kissing the sensitive tip, letting her hot breath fan across the weeping slit. Then, she takes me into her mouth. She caresses its full length with agonizingly slow precision, bobbing her head as she licks and sucks the heavy veins of my shaft.

"Fuck... I'm close..." I blurt out. My voice is thick with raw need.

I hate giving up my control in any situation. But seeing her fully in charge, claiming me with her wet mouth, turns me on immensely. I watch her lips stretch around my girth, her dark eyes looking up at me through her long lashes.

Just like that, to my immense frustration, she abruptly stops her sweet torture. She pulls away, leaving my hard cock twitching and aching in the open air. I open my eyes, frowning in confusion at the sudden loss of her heat.

"You don't get to have all of the fun," she slurs. A breathy, intoxicated laugh escapes her lips.

She reaches boldly under her dress. She slips her thin panties down her legs and kicks them away to the floor. She lifts her hemline, revealing her dripping, slick pussy to my hungry gaze. Her folds are swollen and glistening with her own arousal.

Without hesitation, she slides her body fluidly up my torso. She pushes my shoulders back against the pillows and deliberately buries my face in her wetness. Her erotic, intoxicating scent consumes my senses. I flick my tongue against her swollen clitoris and eagerly taste her tight, wet walls. I become instantly addicted to the desperate way she physically clenches and throbs around my probing tongue.

She pushes her grinding hips down against my face. She moans loud, smearing her hot juices over my nose and chin, encouraging me to go harder and faster. I suck her clit into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the sensitive flesh while slipping two fingers inside her slick pussy, stretching her out.

However, sensing her muscles tightening and knowing she is dangerously close to the edge, I intentionally come to a dead, sudden stop. I pull my mouth and fingers away.

"Why?" she whines. Her voice is thick with heavy, agonizing frustration.

I ignore her complaint. I grab her slim waist and roughly flip her over onto her back. I pin her to the mattress, taking back total control of the situation. I position myself over her. I spread her thighs wide apart and aim my burning, aching hardness toward her soft, invitingly wet opening.

Without wasting another second, I slam my cock into her. I do not bother being gentle about claiming what is mine. My thick head breaches her wet slit, tearing through her tight walls as I bury myself to the hilt in one brutal, claiming thrust.

"Ahhhh," she cries out. A loud, breathy moan escapes her lips as she vividly feels my heavy cock twitch and stretch deep within her tight walls.