Nothing to Lose (BWWM)

Twenty Seven

"Why are you covering my eyes?"

"Because I want them to be closed."

"Why?"

Vincent sucked his teeth as she continued to fire off questions. With the knowledge that LJ was spending the night at Vivica's, Vincent has wanted to do something special for her. He gently shut the door behind him and walked further into the room.

Finally, he took his hands off. "Your art room? This was the big surprise?" The last time she had been in there, he was hiding from her friends at LJ's party. That had been a week ago.

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, moving around the room and searching for several items. "Oh wait, have you got a new piece you want to show me? Is that it?" She guessed, following him around.

"Close." He replied.

When he finally returned to the spot where there was an easel and a clean canvas, she paused. "There's nothing on there." Imani said as she watched him sit on the stool.

"Exactly." She looked on in genuine confusion as he dragged his top off, threw it to the side and made a show of turning off his cell phone. "Turn your phone off."

Now that he had piqued her interest, she did as she was told - wanting to see where exactly he was going with the 'surprise'. When he extended his hand for the device, she gave it to him.

Then he stayed silent. Simply staring at her, that predatory gleam back in those inky orbs.

"Your clothes. Off."

Imani blinked at him and her manicured eyebrows slammed together at the command. Vincent didn't move a muscle. "What?"

Sighing, he stood and advanced towards her, stopping by her feet. "It's a simple instruction, bella." His large fingers found the small of her back and he moved his head low enough until it was right beside her ear. "Take. Your clothes-." Vincent repeated as he slowly lowered the zip to her skirt, revealing her scarlet coloured thong. Giving her ass a swift tap, he finally said, "off."

The heat of his rock hard body against her soft, clothed one had her scorching from the inside and out. As he pulled away from her, she almost mewed at the loss.

Imani followed his demands, throwing her clothes behind her.

When she finally looked up, standing awkwardly in front of him, she was amazed at the lustful stare he was giving her. He gave her a smoulder of appreciation, eyes taking a long sweep of her bare body.

He was hypnotised by the golden mahogany skin that she was trying to cover up.

It was killing him to see her try to hide her perfectly sculpted body.

"Non nascondere." He said. "Don't hide." Vincent translated, making her slowly put her hands down to her sides.

He couldn't peel his eyes off her. "Vincent? Why am I standing naked in your art room?"

Clearing his throat, he handed her a crumpled shirt that he threw on when painting and told her to wear it.

Imani shrugged the navy shirt on as he sat behind the canvas, still adoring his view of her. "I want to draw you."

"What? Me?" Imani couldn't help but laugh.

"Yes you."

"Why? There's nothing special about me."

Every word she spoke that was against herself had him completely confused and frustrated.

How could she not see how beautiful she was?

Everything about her was exciting, stunning and flawless. It seemed as if she was the only one who was oblivious to all of that.

"I beg to differ. The smooth planes of your face, the soft curves that are just so damn enticing. Those eyes. They show everything." He said, causing her cheeks to heat up. "Your bottom lip is raw from when you've bit down on it - whether it's when you're nervous, angry or horny."

Imani averted her eyes as she discretely let her lower lip out from under the grip of her teeth. "Which is it right now?" Vincent asked curiously.

"I'm pretty sure you know." Imani answered, meeting his heated gaze.

The shirt hung off her body and she wore the piece of fabric well, he noticed. It was open just enough to leave little to the imagination and yet still have Imani feeling comfortable whilst wearing it. It revealed the tantalising flesh that had Vincent's eyes glued to the 25 year old.

"Now what? Do I pose or...?" She trailed off as he poised his piece of chalk on the canvas.

He chuckled lightly. "You're perfect the way you are. Look straight at me and get comfortable."

"You make it sound so easy." Imani was having a hard time finding a position that she could stay in for a long time comfortably.

Vincent sniggered as he observed her. "Why don't you just sit down where you are and look up at me?" She did as he asked, adjusting the shirt to cover herself. "Ready?" He asked, making her nod.

As he started to place light strokes on the blank canvas in front of him, she couldn't help but notice how controlled his stance he was.

Tightened jaw, creased brow and focused eyes as he kept glancing at her then back. The muscles that rippled every time he adjusted his position to get a better look at her.

Minutes ticked by as Imani sat in place, studying Vincent as he drew her. The whole thing was turning her on and she could feel the need pooling in-between her thighs.

Vincent must've noticed how she was feeling because he suddenly stopped what he was doing and smirked at her. "It's a little hot in here, no?"

"Hot as hell." She murmured, feeling conscious under his stare.

"You could always take the shirt off if you're feeling hot."

The suggestion was more of a challenge and Imani cocked an eyebrow at him. "I'll survive."

"Your choice, dolcezza."

He returned to the task at hand for another few minutes and this time Imani noted that his glances at her would last for longer and his gaze would linger on her exposed skin more than anything.

After her third sigh within 5 minutes, Vincent paused. "Why the sigh's, Imani?"

"I can feel my hand cramping up - can I switch positions?" She asked and he nodded. "How should I sit?" He would know the exact angle in which he wanted her so she wanted him to direct her.

When he stood up, her throat suddenly went dry. Vincent was walking to her unashamedly with a raging hard on that she could see through his pants.

Her eyes were glued to his groin and when he crouched down to direct her, she could no longer control the heat and desire she had been beating down. Jumping on top of him and making him fall to the floor, Imani closed the space between them and captured his lips in a fiercely passionate kiss.

He kissed her back hungrily, making her head spin.

Every time he placed his lips on hers, she lost track of anything and everything.

Imani gasped when he roughly grasped her breast in one hand after reaching inside the shirt. His hot tongue surged into her mouth, stroking and bending around her own.

Vincent held onto her bottom lip with his teeth as she moved to straddle him. Feeling his heavy clothed erection brush against her naked core, she groaned in need and excitement.

She needed to have him but first she wanted to taste him.

Pulling away from his wicked mouth, her lips latched onto his neck as his hand slid down to her ass. He cradled the mounds of flesh, grinding against her at an achingly slow pace.

Imani groped and licked every inch of his body, claiming it as hers as she lowered.

Reaching inside his sweatpants, she grabbed his length as his eyes shut. Rubbing, squeezing and teasing him, Imani was putting Vincent through hell.

"Imani, you need to-." She silenced him as she eased him into her mouth, the thick head easily reaching the back of her throat as she took all of him.

His hips bucked up as she slid up and sucked on the tip. She moved her tongue expertly around his penis and worked him better than anyone else had ever done.

She felt his fingers move through her hair as her head bobbed up and down on him.

Imani was sending him over the edge with that mouth of hers. Knowing that he was close, he moved backwards and placed his hands underneath her arms - pulling her up and back to his lips.

Seizing her mouth in a mind blowing kiss, Vincent rubbed himself along her entrance - coating himself with her wetness.

Just as the head jutted in, Imani whispered "Condom," against his lips, circling her hips. He growled in annoyance at the interruption before digging into his pocket and handing her the foil package.

Imani lifted herself and sat astride him. She narrowed her eyes at him as she rolled it slowly onto his length. "You walk around the house with a condom in your pocket?"

Vincent gave her a wolfish grin as she moved back on top of his body. "You've always got to be prepared, bella." As she sank down onto him, they both moaned in joint appreciation. "Always."

Lips joining, hands exploring and bodies rocking, Imani and Vincent began their journey to ecstasy.

His hands guided her as she rocked against him, leaning down until the front of their bodies met. Vincent lifted her and slammed back into her slick folds, her tightness making him lose control. Imani was hot and ready, like a fist around him as he pumped into her.

"Can you feel it, amore mio?" He asked as she whimpered.

He slowly pulled out of her, every inch scraping on her sensitive nerves and sweetening the knot that was forming in her stomach.

She gyrated on top of him, encouraging him to go deeper and to stop teasing but he didn't pay any attention.

He took his time filling her and then paused. "I said can you feel it, Imani?"

She let out the guttural moan that had been clawing at her throat as he once again ground against her. Looking down at him she was blown away by the possessive gaze that was drilling into her.

"Good God yes, I can! All of it!" She choked out as he started pounding into her.

Each thrust echoed with the wet slapping sound of skin against skin. Imani looked down to where their bodies joined and felt a wave of pleasure tear through her.

Stroke after stroke, he was sending her brain into overdrive and when her orgasm hit her, she wrenched her mouth away from his and cried out his name. Convulsing over and over again, he kept pushing into her, letting her ride out her climax.

With little time to recover, Vincent slapped her ass and slammed into her over and over again until she joined him in going over the edge. She could see the sinewy cords of his neck straining as he let himself go.

"Imani, merda!" He cursed as she too yelled out.

Imani went limp on top of him, body tingling and aching in all the right places.

His ragged breaths fanned her forehead as they came down to reality.
Vincent extended an arm and grabbed a sheet to cover the both of them. Wrapping it around them, he held her tightly as she fell asleep.


He woke her up hours later with his curious fingers and although she tried to protest, her body said otherwise. Afterwards, she had again fallen asleep in his arms, his performance leaving her completely tired.

It wasn't until 4am that he stopped his attack on her body and actually let her rest. This time when she woke up it wasn't because of Vincent but because he wanted to sate her hunger and the emptiness in her belly.

Sliding out from under his arm, she walked to the kitchen, throwing his shirt on. It wasn't a long walk as somehow they had managed to move from the art room to the stairs and from the stairs to his living room. She had no idea where he got his stamina from but from the dull throb in her inner thigh, she knew that she wasn't complaining.

Imani smiled to herself as she took out the bread, peanut butter and jelly.

Vincent had her.

She was his.

Everything about him was intoxicating and alluring and she had fallen for him.

She thought back to the day they had first met and he was incredibly rude to her. Never would she have thought that they would be where they were today.

Living together, sleeping together and falling in love - at least from her side.

Never one to be out of character, Vincent wasn't revealing any of his cards when it came to his feelings for her. Every so often, he would smile at her and tell her that she was 'amazing' or 'one of a kind'. Sometimes he would say something in Italian that he knew she didn't understand and when she asked him to translate, he would change the subject.

He wasn't making it easy for her - but then again she should have known it was never going to be easy.

"I am starving." Came the deep, husky voice from behind her.

When she looked over her shoulder at him, he was on his phone, scrolling through.

"This is the longest that I've seen you go without looking at your phone. Congratulations."

"That's because I was occupied." He said, winking at her.

"Hmm, I've got 10 missed calls from Marco and 7 from Giovanni." Alarm bells went off in Vincent's head as he got a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Imani watched as he dialled the voicemail number and placed the phone against his ear.

He said nothing at first, simply stopped moving as he kept clicking through the messages. Each one seemed to deepen the frown on his face.

Vincent was still for a moment as he listened and then he suddenly completely tensed.

His phone fell from his grasp and dropped onto the floor but Imani was still looking at him, worry etching her features. "Vincent? Vincent what's happened?"

Vincent didn't reply. His absent eyes didn't meet hers and his whole body was rigid. All the blood had been drained from his face.

She bent down and picked up the phone, intent on hearing whatever it was that had Vincent looking as if he had seen a ghost.