𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐙𝐄𝐃 | 𝟏𝟖+

twenty-one; taste

A U R O R A

"But don't you be scared, to run your hands through my hair. Baby, cause that's why it's there. Come run your hands through my hair, oh baby, so don't you be scared."

. . .

Being in Riccardo's arms makes me feel safe and comfortable. It's relieving, almost. I never thought I'd enjoy it this much.

I guess the thrill of the chase does work in mysterious ways.

Feeling Riccardo's muscles relax underneath me feels good, it means that he's at ease. His breathing has evened out, but I can tell that he's not yet asleep.

My eyes are focused on his chest. His body is so muscular, it seems carved out by the Romans themselves.

I want to explore it with my hands – and tongue. Feel every ridge, every ripple, and catch the muscles bulging while he's in motion.

For a second, I can't stop my eyes and drop them down to his abdomen, where I see a six-pack shining through. I'm surprised that he's so fit for his age. Most lawyers find the time to work out, but not as intensely to have this result.

I lean my head back a bit and look up at Riccardo, to see that his eyes are opened and he's still awake.

The sexiest smirk grazes his lips once his eyes drop to look at me.

If only he'd look at me like that while I'm sucking his dick.

"Hey there," he hums. I don't know for what reason, but I flush a bright red. "Hi," I bring out and rest my head on his arm.

Our faces are mere inches separated from each other. I decide to be a bit bolder and move closer, so our noses are almost touching.

"You should go to sleep," he murmurs. My eyes drop to his lips and watch them form the words. I barely register what he said, but nod nonetheless.

"I will," I whisper.

"What are you going to dream about?" I ask, knowing it's a childish question. But I want to keep talking to him, hold these moments close to me.

He chuckles. "You shutting up and letting me sleep."

I pout and flick his nose. "That's not a nice thing to say," I scold him. "It was a joke, darling," he assures me. It silent between us for another minute, before I throw in another question.

"Do you miss Italy?" I ask.

"All the time," is his immediate reply. I frown. "Don't you ever want to go back?"

He sighs. "I do, but my business here is thriving and I've been living here for almost my entire life, I've grown used to living here. But I manage to make time for my family and always go there on holiday," he says.

"My dad is the same. He also doesn't want to leave us, he'd rather die," I murmur, smiling as I hear his voice in my head.

Taking another step, I inch a bit closer, until our lips are a hairs width away. My teeth sink into my bottom lip as the anticipation builds up, and the spot between my legs dampens.

"I like talking to you," I say quietly. Our eyes remain locked, his darkening the slightest bit. His pupils dilate while he keeps looking at me.

He raises his hand to brush a strand of hair away from my face, his thumb caressing my cheek as he does so.

"I do too," he tells me. I lean into his touch and hum, brushing the tip of my nose against his cheek before going into the crook of his neck.

My hand comes to rest on his warm chest, feeling the hard muscles. "Tell me something, Riccardo," I whisper, my breath hitting his neck.