We were all hands and mouths and moans as I stripped him, and the only time we broke contact was for him to kick out of his shoes and step out of the pants and briefs I’d stripped down to his ankles.
Then, he stood before me, all mountains of muscles and valleys of hard, toned, tanned skin. He stood tall and powerful, shoulders square and back, those steel eyes watching me over the slightly crooked bridge of his nose as he stroked his thick, pulsing cock.
It was the wrong time to be thinking of Joel. I knew it, but I couldn’t help it when I saw the beast Theo unleashed. I’d seen one penis in real life before, and it was Joel’s.
And compared to Theo’s, Joel’s member was a joke.
Theo Whitman might as well have walked off a porn set, the way the veins lined his beautiful, perfectly shaped cock. The mushroom head was thick and beaded with pre-cum, and he swiped his thumb over the drop, moaning as he coated himself with it.
I was still staring, still trying to comprehend how it would fit inside me when he quickly made his way to the bedside table. He pulled out a condom and rolled it over himself before making his way back to me at the bookshelf.
“You look scared,” he mused with an arched brow.
I shook my head, even though he wasn’t far from the truth. “I just want you.”
“How?” he asked, palming my breasts and pushing my back against the shelves again. I hissed at the bruising kiss he gave me next, gasping as his tongue massaged mine.
“Here,” I said, grabbing his muscular ass and pulling him closer. “Now.”
Theo growled, hiking my thigh up just like he had when he went down on me. Only this time, he lifted my ass until it sat mostly in his hands and half on one of the bookshelves. Then, he lowered his hips, reached down between us, and positioned himself at my entrance.
One look. One breath. One fiery, all-consuming kiss.
And he filled me.
A shocked moan left my mouth, but it was quickly silenced by Theo’s kiss. He groaned with me as he withdrew and slipped in again, stretching me open, his body trembling just as mine had.
“Jesus Christ, Aspen,” he breathed, pressing his forehead to mine as he looked down to watch himself entering me. He pulled back slowly, flexing even deeper, and I held onto his shoulders for dear life.
Theo pressed my hips into the bookshelf, pinning me there as he picked up the pace. Every new thrust went deeper and deeper until I was certain he was penetrating the very depths of my soul. I clawed at his back, moaning and crying out at the rush of sensations overcoming me.
I didn’t even realize it was possible, but another orgasm quickly snaked its way through my bloodstream, and I locked eyes with Theo just in time to tell him I was coming before my head dropped back, body shaking in Theo’s grasp.
That seemed to be the catalyst for his own release.
Theo growled, biting my neck and squeezing my hips so tight I knew they’d actually bruise as he fucked me harder, faster, slamming me against the bookshelf over and over again. Books flew off onto the floor. A vase of flowers broke and sent glass and water everywhere, but Theo didn’t relent. He kissed me hard, one hand coming up to wrap around my neck as the other held my hips to his. A shudder of a groan ripped through him, and I felt him pulsing inside me, the condom filling just as I started to get warmed up for another orgasm myself.
For a long moment, Theo just held me there, his damp forehead pressed against mine, breath labored, body stiff until a wave of chills rushed over him.
“Fuck,” he groaned, smirking when his eyes found mine again. “You,” he said, kissing my lips. “Are.” Another kiss. “Sensational.”
I blushed, shaking my head and laughing as he peppered me with kisses all over my neck, my chest, until his lips were on mine again.
“How do you feel?” he asked, gently lowering me to the ground. He swept my hair out of my face, cupping my jaw in his massive hands.
I bit my lip. “Like I want to do that again.”
Theo’s brow arched, and then he let his head fall back with a booming laugh erupting from his chest. When he looked at me again, his eyes glazed, hair mussed, body slick with sweat — he just shook his head.
“Oh, baby. Trust me,” he said, sweeping me into his arms and carrying me over to the bed. “We’re not getting any sleep tonight.”
Theo kept his promise — neither of us slept that night.
In fact, I found myself lacking sleep every night after that, too, as we crawled the rest of the way down the Italian coast and crossed over to Greece.
Effortlessly, I slipped into a new way of life with Theo Whitman.
We spent our days relaxing in the sun or exploring the foreign shores that Philautia took us to. We ate pasta and tasted fresh olive oil, dug our toes into golden sand, fell in love with Italian hospitality, splashed around in turquoise waters, and lost many afternoons where we couldn’t leave the bed at all.
It was all so new, discovering each other, and we both seemed content to spend hours upon hours trailing fingertips over each other’s skin, touching and feeling, kissing and tasting.
In the evenings, Theo spoiled me
