King of Souls - L.A. Cotton Page 0,21

want to imagine you’re here, Nicco. I want to imagine you touching me.”

“I’m right there, trailing my lips all over your damp skin. Can you feel it, can you feel my kisses?”

“Y- yes.” It was a soft moan.

“Are you alone?”

“Yes, Luis is out in the hall.”

Thank fuck.

“Do you trust me?”

“You know I do.”

“Lie down on your bed.” There was a brief pause. “Good?” I asked.

“Good.” Her voice was thick with desire.

“Undo your towel, Bambolina.” I heard the slight hitch in her breath. “Now trail your hand down your stomach slowly.”

“It tickles.”

“It’s supposed to.” I smiled. Jesus, I wanted to be there. I wanted to worship her. “I can picture you lying there. The swell of your breasts, the soft curve of your hips. I want to trace my tongue over every single inch of you until you beg me for more.”

“God, I want that... so much.” Her voice was breathy.

“See how good you feel?”

“Hmm-mm.”

I was rock solid, my dick pulsing with need. Without hesitation, I worked my shorts down my hips and slid my hand around my shaft, stroking myself. I let out a long hiss.

“Nicco?”

“Touch yourself, Arianne. Imagine it’s my fingers, my lips. Remember how it was when I took you to the Country Club?”

“It feels so good,” she smothered a moan, inhaling a shaky breath.

“What does it feel like? Tell me…” I jacked myself harder, thrusting up into my hand, imagining it was her.

“It’s soft and warm... and wet.”

“Jesus, Bambolina. I wish it was me. I wish I was buried deep inside of you.”

“Yes... yes.” Her cries were my undoing, beads of sweat trailing down my abs as I chased my release.

“Are you close?” I groaned the words.

“It feels good... but it’s not like when you touch me,” she admitted.

“I’m right there, Arianne. I can hear your tiny moans, feel the way your body trembles beneath me. Come for me, Bambolina, I need you to come for me.”

A tingling sensation started at the base of my spine as I let myself drown in memories of Arianne. The way it had felt when I’d made love to her. It had been the single most intense experience of my life. Two bodies fitting as one, two souls binding together.

“Nicco, oh God...” she cried. “I’m going to...”

“That’s it, amore mio. Let go. Just let go.... fuck.” White hot pleasure shot down my spine as I jerked into my hand. My chest heaved with exertion, my body spent and sated.

“You still there?” I asked, grabbing a tissue off the nightstand and cleaning myself up.

There was a slight pause, and then she said, “I can’t believe we just did that.”

“I want to do everything with you, Arianne. I want to give you everything.”

“Can I ask you something?” The hesitation in her voice had my attention.

“Anything.”

“Do your feelings for me ever scare you?”

“Every second of every day. I wasn’t lying when I said I knew that if I stayed that morning, I wouldn’t have been able to say goodbye to you. I would have betrayed everything I am... for you.”

“I keep thinking about running away. Just the two of us. Going somewhere no one knows us. But then I think of Nora and my mom and Alessia and your family, and I know we can’t do it.”

Silence followed. Thick, ominous silence. Then Arianne let out a small sigh. “It isn’t supposed to be this hard, is it?”

Fuck. Her words gutted me. Slid into me like a jagged knife and tore up my insides.

“Arianne—”

“Don’t,” she let out a soft sigh. “It’s okay. I didn’t mean to ruin the moment.”

“Bambolina, never think like that. Not with me. I want all your moments. The happy ones, the sad too. Even the angry, frustrated ones. I won’t lie to you and say that I know how this will all work out. But I will tell you that I will always love you, Arianne. And I will always fight for you, no matter what. I promise.

“Ti amo più oggi di ieri ma meno di domani,” I whispered.

“I love you too. I should probably go and get ready. Luis wants to leave soon.”

“Okay. Text me later?”

“I will. Bye, Nicco.” She hung up, the sudden loss like a bucket of ice water.

I got cleaned up and found some clean sweats, before grabbing my cell phone again.

“Niccolò?” My father answered on the first ring.

“Any word from Tommy?”

“I was going to call you. He’s on his way to Boston.”

“He is?” Dread snaked through me.

“It was as I suspected. Mike Fascini is, in fact,

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