Oh God. Where did this man come from? What happened to the brooding, sulking, silent guy? Not that I’m complaining. At all. No, I might never complain again.
I suck in my breath as he draws his fingers out and then starts rubbing my clit in small concentric circles. He’s barely moving at all but I’m feeling everything.
“Look at me,” he whispers again and I’m forced to meet his eyes. They are glittering in the sunlight, burning with intensity. I’m not sure how much longer I can hold on. I want to come but I also want to wrap my hands around that long dick of his and make him come, too.
He must have followed my gaze because he suddenly applies firmer pressure and just like that it’s a trigger and I’m the bomb.
The orgasm rocks through me, but he’s grabbing my face with his other hand. “Look at me,” he says and I’m forced to meet his eyes. The cry strangles in my throat and my mouth drops open as I ride the wave. It takes everything I have to keep my body as still and quiet as possible—my pulse feels like it’s trying to rip out of my skin, and my muscles cramp up to keep my limbs from jerking, but through it all I stare into his brown eyes, lost in the flecks of gold and black that make them rich and bright.
“You are like the sunrise when you come,” he whispers to me when I begin to calm down. “All this light, chasing away the dark.” He slowly, deliberately removes his hand and then sticks his finger in his mouth, drawing it out leisurely. “Dolce.”
I blink at him, taking in a deep breath, and slowly look over my shoulder. No one is staring at us. We weren’t caught. Derio looks down at his erection and then grins at me. “Unfortunately, this can’t be dealt with out here,” he says. He’s right about that. Even the water is crowded with people.
“I’ll fix you up tonight,” I tell him, relaxing back against the stones as the endorphins flood my body. Holy hell. Did that really just happen? Especially after all the talk about taking it fast—in private. But his twin siblings are still playing by the shore, trying to do handstands in the water, and no one else saw him getting me off. It’s just that I’ve never been open and vulnerable with someone like that, especially in public, and so soon. It worries me just a little bit. I’ve been known to fall hard and fast for all the wrong guys and I don’t want to do that with Derio. And I don’t want him to be the wrong guy.
He trails his fingers over my neck, my collarbone, my breastbone, soft and gentle, like I’m written in braille and he’s trying to read me. I glance up at him and my heart flips at the tenderness in his eyes. I should have known from the start that this man was going to give me a reason to stay.
* * *
The rest of the weekend flies by. After the beach, the four of us had dinner at one of the tourist joints at the Marina Grande. They’re not the best on the island but the twins were happy with their “Americanized” meals, even though I wasn’t too happy with them eating French fries, especially after the breakfast I had served them. I think Derio found it quite amusing when I went into “mom” mode, which I just found more scary than anything else.
The next morning, I took the twins—and Derio, though he needed a lot of convincing—to church. I’m not a religious person, though I’m definitely spiritual, but I had heard there was a Sunday school after the sermon, with cookies, juice, toys, and, most importantly, other children Annabella and Alfonso could play with. Once Sunday school was over, the priest told us we could drop them off again just before dinnertime for an activities program.
Naturally, we had to say yes. Not just to give Alfonso and Annabella the chance to socialize with kids in a new setting, but for our own budding relationship as well.
As we walk back to the villa after dropping off the kids, the Via Tragara now busier than ever, Derio asks, “Want to go on a ride with me?”
“Sure,” I say with a smile. He grabs on to my hand, holding it firmly, and we pass through crowds of people. I feel extremely giddy being led by this man. I can’t help smiling at everyone, tourists and locals alike. I don’t feel the heat that’s steadily building, nor the loud chatter in a million different languages. Though Capri doesn’t feel like it belongs to us at the moment, I feel like I belong with him.
Once back at the villa, we waste no time in bringing out the bike. We only have about three hours or so to ourselves so we have to make the most of it. What I really want is to drag Derio into the house and spend those precious hours in his bedroom—that would indeed be time spent wisely—but Derio is happier than I’ve ever seen him, all squinty eyes, handsome smiles, and tanned skin, and for once I find myself craving the freedom of the open road. The roads on Capri aren’t very open but I want his body pressed to mine and the wind in my hair and that wild feeling of nothing but time. Even if time is only a lie.