A/N: You're going to need to lock yourself away somewhere private for this one. ;)

Not even joking.

Lucky chapter 69.

***

rings and rings. My skin is almost feverish. For a long, dreadful moment, I'm worried that he isn't going to pick up.

I feel so fucking stupid.

Just when my heart is about to leap out of my chest, the line goes through.

I'm so surprised and so not ready for this, so I just stay silent, breathing into the phone. I can hear him on the other side, waiting.

"Rosalyn?" His voice is low and rough and the same as I remember it, and I'm shocked by how much it makes me feel, like a punch in the gut. I didn't think I'd be able to feel this way, ever again.

"Nero." My voice, on the other hand, is breathy and so damn needy that it's shameful.

We're silent for a while, because neither of us knows what to say, where to begin.

"How are you, dolcezza?" Something warm erupts inside my chest from that nickname. Hi, how are you and he's already turned me into jelly. Oh boy.

"I'm okay." I bite my lip. This isn't actually happening right now, no way. "How are you?"

"I'm good." I can tell that he's curious. That he wants to know why I called him, why now. I let my cell sit beside me on speakerphone.

More silence.

I can't stand it. The tension is too much that I think I'm about to burst. "Nero," I breathe, one last wild wave of courage overtaking me. I have to say this now or I know I never will. My words come out in a jumbled rush. "Don't say anything, just listen, okay?"

I hear him on the other end. He follows my instructions precisely, not saying another word.

"I..." Oh damn it. Where do I even start? My voice is hoarse, like the texture of gravel. There is so much I want to say but the only thing that comes out is a soft whimper. "I need you, Nero."

"Fuck," I hear, a muffled curse. "Gioia mia. Carina. I'm not in Vancouver, dolcezza." I can picture the look on his face, can almost see him scrub a frustrated hand across that sharp jaw. "I flew into Montreal yesterday for work."

Of course. It's so unfair that I almost laugh. Fuck you, universe.

"Damn it, Nero." It's not his fault but I feel so helpless that I want to cry. My throat burns and my skin is on fire. "You have no idea how wet I am right now."

A string of unintelligible Italian obscenities.

I squirm against the mattress, kicking away the sheets because it's way too hot in here. My eyes sting from how impossibly ridiculous this is. "I can't... I've been trying for months Nero." My voice is a quiet, strangled whisper. "I think Marco broke me." I wasn't supposed to tell him that, but it came out anyways. "I haven't had an orgasm since... since you, and I've tried and tried and..." And shit, I'm hysterical.

"Rosalina," he says softly. "You're not broken, carina. I know you're not."

I'm surprised by the frustration and the anger in my voice. "How could you possibly know that for sure, Nero?" It comes out sharp and bitter.

For a minute, there is silence except for the sound of our heavy breathing mixing together through the phone.

"What are you wearing, Rosalyn?"

"What?"

"I asked what you're wearing."

His voice is dangerously, sinfully low. I clench my legs together to ease the ache between them.

"Underwear."

"What color?"

"Black," I breathe. "What are you wearing?"

I imagine that the edges of those full lips tilt up a little from the stubborn impatience in my voice. "It's past one in the morning here, carina. I'm in bed. Boxers."

I close my eyes and picture him, lean and toned and tanned and naked besides the scrap of fabric covering him down there. "What color?"

And now I know that he's smiling for real, a delicious, wolfish grin. "Black."

I press my lips together, because despite everything I want to smile too.

"Dolcezza," he says, and there is something dark in his voice that makes my heart rate triple. "Take off your panties, carina."

My breath leaves my lungs. He wasn't asking.

I don't argue or fight because I want this to happen, I need this to happen. The anticipation is so overwhelming, it's spectacular, I can feel every inch of my skin light up, wanting him.

The only sound is the rustle of my sheets as I slip the thin lace down my legs, let the scrap of fabric fall quietly onto the floor beside my bed.

"Take yours off too, Nero."

I can hear his heavy breathing, listen to the teasing sound of his covers shifting. And I picture him completely, gloriously naked, erect and huge.

"Your bra, Rosalyn. Take it off."

I reach behind me, my fingers brushing lightly across my skin, undoing the clasp, letting it fall away from my chest. My nipples are already taut, stiff as they touch the cool air.

"I can picture you, dolcezza, naked for me. You're so fucking beautiful." There's pure, undisguised desire in his gruff voice.

"Nero," I whimper. I'm bare on top of my sheets and I'm dripping, I don't know what to do with myself. "Are you hard for me?"

"So fucking hard for you, cuore mio. Only for you."

And oh, he just called me his heart, and mine is about to jump out of my chest.

"Rosalina."

I wait, breathless, for whatever dirty, sordid command is going to come next.

"Spread your legs for me, dolcezza."

Fuck. My chest rises and falls and my feet are planted on the mattress and my legs are shaking. I do what he says, and the air is cool against the hot wetness between my thighs. A loud, wanton sigh leaves my mouth.

"I want to be inside you, carina. So fucking bad." I close my eyes, see him hovering over me, picture the vague memory of him filling me to the hilt. "Imagine it, gioia mia. Think about me on top of you."

There are soft, unholy sounds leaving my mouth but I'm too possessed to care.

"First, I'll kiss your perfect, perfect breasts. Imagine my hot, wet mouth, carina, sucking your nipples."

One of my hands come up, instinctively, to play with the hardened tips of my chest. Pleasure travels from the ends of my fingers all the way down to the center of me.

"And then I'll slide a hand up the inside of your thigh, slowly, and my fingers will brush against you, right there. You're so fucking wet for me, dolcezza."

My fingers mimic his words, dancing up the inside of my leg and finding the slickness at the apex of my thighs.

"And then I'll slide a finger into you, brush my thumb rough against your throbbing clit."

And in goes a finger, and fuck I'm so wet, and I do what he says, I rub a thumb across my soaked folds, and the searing, impossible pleasure that jolts through my entire body is so intense that it brings tears to my eyes.

"And then another finger, carina. Fuck, you're so tight."

I moan, a second finger joining the first. I slide them, slowly, in and out, my thumb tracing small circles on the outside as my fingers press into the quivering walls of my soaked heat. Ohh.

"Mm, keep going, amore mio." I pick up the pace, swirling faster, heavier, more insistently against my clit, thrusting my fingers harder, deeper, towards the high I can feel building at the centre of me. "Keep fucking yourself for me, Rosalina. Va bene, that's right. Avante, gioia mia."

"Oh my God, Nero... yes..."

"I know you're close, dolcezza. Imagine my other hand, rolling one of your hard nipples rough beneath my fingers. You're shivering beneath me, Rosalina, because it feels so fucking good."

"Oh, Nero," I whimper, feeling that familiar, elusive, blissful tug at the center of me. "I'm so close."

"Picture me right now, Rosalina." I fondle one of my nipples and I'm almost there, I can almost taste it. His voice is rough, low, so, so dark. "I'm touching myself, thinking about you. I'm thinking about being inside you, about how wet you are, about how good you feel."

The hoarseness behind every filthy, delicious word is going to make me combust.

"Oh," I moan, my hand between my legs stroking just a little faster. I feel my insides tighten, feel it get so high that I know, I know it's so, so, so close...

"Come for me, dolcezza."

And I do, oh, oh, oh, I come so fucking hard, squeezing around my fingers, a flash of incredible heat englufing my core and igniting every last nerve in my body.

I lie there, panting and weak and completely spent, melting into the mattress. "Fuck, Nero."

I can hear his laboured breathing. I can see him, hear him, his hand working furiously towards his own heavy finish.

This is easily the most erotic thing that we've ever done, and that's saying a lot.

I hear a bunch of swearing in Italian, use all of my imagination to conjure up the image of him, lying there, fucking himself while thinking of me. Somehow I'm already wet again, just from the thought of it.

And then I hear it, when he comes. He breathes my name through the phone, a rough, tired whisper.

Once we've both fallen back down to earth, I can't help the smile of utter happiness and sheer relief that lights up my face, big enough to brighten the darkness of my room.

"I told you that you weren't broken, amore mio." His voice is that same heavy, sexy grumble I remember, weighed down from the intensity of his orgasm.

And then I feel the warm, wet tears flowing down my face because in less than ten minutes he accomplished what I spent literally months trying to do. Without even touching me.

"I love you, Nero. I love you so much," I choke, rubbing the tears away.

"I love you too, amina mia. I've fucking missed you."

"I missed you too."

And we could talk more but I am so, so tired. A yawn escapes my aching chest.

"Get some sleep, Rosalyn. I'll call you again later."

"Okay." I tug the blanket over my sticky body, my head burying itself into the pillow.

I hear him whisper some more sweet things to me through the phone before I fall into an exhausted, satisfied sleep.

***

A/N: Shit, that made me hot writing it. I'm going to hell.

Easily the most explicit sex scene of this book. Also might be my favourite so far.

You guys CRUSHED those 10 comments in less than 4 hours 😂😂. I had to sleep haha so there was a slight update delay. Beyond impressed. I never knew you guys had it in you...

How about 10 more comments just to let me know that you appreciate me? ;)

XOXO Ami

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