Changing your wet clothes hadn't happened exactly as expected.
After you and Lovino left the art show, most of the chilling dampness that had sunk into your dress and hair, freezing you to the bone, had disappeared due to the warm, dry interior of Lovi's car. That, and the large hand that absentmindedly fiddled with the hem of your dress the entire way home, had heated you from the inside out. But just because neither of you weren't soaking wet, didn't mean your clothes hadn't become uncomfortable.
Lovino had pulled into the garage and turned the car off with no problem. Getting the both of you inside was a little bothersome for him; letting you through the doorway first had allowed him an unintentionally sultry view of your (COLOR) dress clinging to your body, outlining your slim waist and your hips as they swayed back and forth. It didn't help when you bent over to remove your heels, either.
And Lovino was far from uninviting, as well. The way he carried himself was always his best attribute, and you always thought he looked good in a tie, too... The scowl on his face had softened into something more weary, tired, and exhausted, his eyes receding from the fires of rage to a soft glow of amber flames. Those flames licked hotly at your form before you could even undress, the both of you stealing flirtatious glances at each other.
One thing lead to the next, and before you knew it, you were forced down on all fours, kneeling on the bed.
His anxious, fumbling hands struggled with hiking your dress over your hips, just as they had struggled with his own belt and tie as he cursed in impatient frustration. You helped him with the flowing fabric, having assisted him with his belt buckle, as well. You wanted him to keep the tie, though, admiring how it hung loosely from his neck, sexily accenting the now-unbuttoned shirt and tank top he wore underneath. He'd long ago discarded his pants, socks and shoes - almost immediately when you walked through the bedroom door - leaving him in his boxer-briefs and the few aforementioned articles that unnecessarily clothed his torso. You, however, were only able to tug away (COLOR) earrings and annoyingly jingling bracelets before the smirking man had pulled you playfully to the bed, throwing you roughly against the decorative red, white, and green pillows.
You groaned as he ground into your backside, bunching your dress tight in his fists, lest it try to fall again. The friction of his shorts against your panties had the two of you soaked in arousal and sweat. You could feel him getting harder as he prodded your clothed womanhood, sending pleasant and ticklish tremors up your spine.
"You like that, ragazza?" He whispered huskily, asking the rhetorical question only to get a breathy and heated response from you. He always liked hearing you, the strangled moans you tried to stifle, the cries and mewls of pleasure, the pained gasps you gave to keep yourself from screaming. He knew just how to get every one of those sounds from you, and he intended to implement every action he could before you collapsed in exhaustion.
"Mhmm... Oh, Lovi..." You moaned, shutting your eyes to focus on the feeling. Your insides were already tingling in anticipation, heat radiating and wetness dripping from your core, ready to take him.
He hunched over you, completely covering your body with one arm wrapped around your middle as his other hand ran down you stomach. Your breathing hitched when you felt his fingers brush your clit through your panties. Your hand flew down to his, urging him to press harder, but he quickly locked fingers with you, keeping your hand away from your nether regions and refusing you contact to the tiny bundle of nerves.
"Say my name," he ordered, panting harshly in your ear before moving his lips to your neck.
You turned your head and planted a hot kiss on his temple. "Lovi." You heard a growl reverberate from his chest, his lips vibrating on your skin before his teeth grazed you, lightly sinking into your flesh. You hissed, jerking up as much as he would let you, bringing your other hand up to clutch his hair.
"Not that stupid 'Lovi' shit you always call me... My real name... Say it..." He continued to bite you, nipping at your ear and forcing you back down onto your forearms. With your rear end in the air, and your body completely given up to do with as he pleased, you moaned a soft "Lovino..." After complying with his wishes, he decided to comply with yours in return.
"That's-a right, ragazza... Again. Louder, this time..." He needn't have asked you that time, as his hand had made its way back to your panties, dipping his fingers beneath the waistband and toying with your sensitive nub.
"Lovino! Ohh," you couldn't help but cry, throwing your head back against his shoulder, the hand in his hair tugging on the soft, chocolatey strands. You moaned, gasping when he pinched your clit between his middle and index fingers. You pulled harder on his hair in response, the infamous Vargas curl 'accidentally' being yanked.
You were forced, face-first, into the pillows, Lovino constraining your wrists behind your back.
"Stupid girl..." he mumbled, moving one hand to hold both of your wrists so the other was free to pull your panties down your legs. You bit your lip at the hotness of the situation, as well as the feeling of his warm breath on the newly-bared skin. "Driving me-a crazy..."
"Ah!" You gasped as his tongue fluttered up and down against your folds, arching your back and trying to spread your knees farther for him. He responded with a sharp smack to your ass, a muffled 'stop squirming.' You struggled to keep still, but he assisted you by loosening the secure hold on your wrists, trading in his dominance for massaging the rosy flesh of your bottom. He soothed the sting, smoothing out your erratic breathing, only to speed it once more as his pink muscle darted from his mouth to circle your clit.
"Lovino, ohh, that's so good," you moaned, a pleasurable smile working its way to your face as you clutched the sheets tightly in your hands.
"Yeah? Well, it's-a 'bout to get a whole lot better," he teased, suddenly thrusting two fingers inside of you, making you cry out. He chuckled deeply, spanking you once more before moving his tongue back to your clit, joining his skilled fingers in the quest for your orgasm.
"Ooh, God... Ah!" You whimper, struggling to keep your legs from shaking at his tongue's sweet ministrations, trying hard not to lean into the long fingers that pumped and curled inside of you. Delicious tension curled inside of you, as well, making you open up to him, his amazing tongue, and his oh-so-amazing fingers.
Your walls pulsed once around his digits, trapping them momentarily before he removed his lips from your tight nub, replacing them with his thumb. He pressed hard on your clit and quickly pushed his fingers in and out, in and out, in and out in a relentless rhythm that made you scream through tightly sealed lips.
"Go on," he urged, planting wet kisses on the round cheeks of your bottom before slapping them again and again. "Scream if you-a need to. I want to hear it."
"Lovino," you begged, sounding on the verge of tears as you cried out for your release.
"Scream for me, (Y/N)," he repeated, fingering your slick hole faster than you would have ever thought possible.
The next thing you know, violent but beautiful spasms of ecstasy wrack through your body, eliciting a nice, loud, high-pitched scream that was surely audible to the neighbors. Your fingers, toes, and face twisted up as if you were in pain, though you were far from it. Your cheeks were burning, your entire being flushed various shades of pink. Your eyes were closed, but you didn't think you'd be able to see straight, anyway, as you felt lightheaded and dizzy, listening to your labored breathing and the rushing of blood in your ears - the only things you could hear.
The initial impact of your orgasm had eventually subsided, the wave of sensation receding back to sea when Lovino slowly slid his fingers from you, making you want to crawl into a ball and just tingle for a bit.
He wouldn't let that happen, though. Not yet.
Ready for your legs to give out, he hooked an arm under your waist, keeping you from falling to the bed before he could have his way with your already-sated body. Stripping boxer-briefs from his long-ago erected and hardened member, Lovino leaned over you to reach towards the nightstand drawer. He quickly rummaged through it to find a square yellow packet, hastily tearing it open and sliding the condom over his length before he positioned himself behind you, lifting your hips slightly so he was level with your tight entrance. He noticed your sluggish movements, noticed you leaning further into the comfy pillows that adorned the bed, and that didn't sit well with him at all.
"Tch! Wake the hell up," he demanded harshly, smacking your ass to reinforce the promise of punishment if he was disobeyed, but you were too giddy to notice. You giggled and moaned sleepily, causing him to get angry. "I said get up, ragazza," he growled, grabbing you by the hair and pulling you up himself.
You let out a mewling whine of displeasure, but let him remove your upper-half from the bed, pulling you flush to his chest. One hand rested on your hip, the other still tugging on your hair, he tilted your head back and to the side, giving him a good access point to the sweet spot on your neck. Just as you owned his curl, he owned the tender spot below your jaw, just an inch away from your throat. He kissed that spot, sweetly teasing it with his lips and flicking his tongue over it with playful, loving strokes.
When your senses returned to you, and you were able to fully enjoy the attention you were receiving from your wonderfully Italian boyfriend, you brought your hand up to caress his face, tracing a lazy path on his cheekbone that reached down to his jaw. When your hand, again, snaked its way to his hair, holding his head tight to your neck, Lovino, again, lost control of himself.
The hand that had been knotted in your hair was quickly snatched away in favor of clutching your breast, fondling the soft mound through the now-wrinkled fabric of your dress as he became more possessive of that spot on your neck. He sucked at the skin, biting, bruising, marking you as his, the pleasured sounds only enticing him further.
"You want it?" He asked, another painfully rhetorical question. You nodded in response, the heat between your thighs rising in temperature, once more. "Take it, then, it's-a all yours," he urged, sitting back on his heels with a carnal glint in his eyes, a crazed smile on his face. You glanced back at him daringly before taking his member in your hand.
The hot, velvety-smooth texture, the hardness of his shaft in your hand was intriguing. You always had a thing for having your hands on him, and you lived up to that by pumping slowly up and down before easily gliding him into your wet cavern. Already being accustomed to his size, you quickly sheathed the entirety of him, falling deeper into his lap as you moaned contentedly, Lovino groaning in pleasure as he filled you.
Taking advantage of the slight change in position, you became the one in control. You began riding him, rising and sinking rhythmically on the thick muscle that was currently immersed in the apex of your thighs. Moans and low growls rumbled from his chest, his breathing hitched when you shifted this way or that. He never knew, but you secretly loved to hear him, too. You did all you could to please him, and sounds of satisfaction were hard to get out of your grump of a boyfriend, so you prided yourself on the rare noises that exposed him.
"Fuck, ragazza, you're a-killin' me," he groaned, taking hold of your hips and roughly bucking into you, earning a hushed yelp. The small sound had him back in that dominant, satyric kind of mood. "Bend over," he ordered, his hand traveling up your spine to ease you back onto your hands and knees. You obeyed, making him chuckle darkly before slamming into you.
He clutched your hips tightly, pounding faster, harder, deeper into your molten core. At it like rabbits, the two of you moaned and groaned together, your heavy breathing and hammering heartbeats synced with the rapidly repeating sound of skin slapping skin. Sweat glistened, heat dripping from you both as the smell of sex filled the room, invading your senses and turning you on even further.
You were struggling to stay upright, your arms giving out on you for a third time before you start to clutch at the headboard, hitching yourself over it for support. As soon as you had a steady hold on the polished wood, the incessant squeaking commenced. Your cheeks flushed red, despite the fact that you had nothing to be embarrassed about, seeing as you two had the house to yourselves. Your cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of red at the new angle Lovino was thrusting.
You bit your lip and turned to watch your lover, his face screwed up in intense concentration. He hung his head, but with the curtain of hair falling in his eyes, you couldn't tell if he was watching you or not. You assumed, if his eyes were open, he'd be taking advantage of the view. You bet he would watch his length pull out of the your tight, wet walls, as if your body refused to let him go. You bet he would stare in awe at how your hot core swallowed every inch of him, as if you were put on this earth only to satisfy his own carnal needs. You were his... Had been since you were young, and would be until the both of you grew old and died, sleeping, lying next to each other in the bed where you'd spend your wedding night.
Your mind always traveled to strange, fantastical, far away places when your every thought was riddled with the effervescent sensations of sex.
"Fuck!" He shouted in frustration, shutting his eyes tight and sucking a sharp breath through clenched teeth. He gave three hard thrusts before stopping, pushing his hips against your backside to completely embed himself in your heat. He opened his eyes when he found his breath, catching you looking at him. "What the hell are you looking at?" He asked, threateningly, the fires that blazed in his eyes just hot enough to make you melt on sight. You turned around just in time to miss the redness force its way to his cheeks. "I'm not-a done, I just needed to catch-a my breath," he defended, reminding you that he wasn't some sixteen-year-old kid that was premature when it came to things like this. He didn't need to defend himself against you, though; you knew how long he could last.
"Lovi, keep going," you whined, begged, trying to push further onto him, but it was impossible to get any deeper than he already was. Instead of thrusting, he shifted his member around within you, rubbing and grinding himself against you. When you felt his forearm slide under your hip, his fingers returning to play with your clit, it became obvious he was trying to get you off first.
Your legs tensed up, the shock-waves running up your spine making you subtly wiggle away from him until his hands returned to their post at your hips and jerked you back onto his throbbing muscle. Not wanting to stop the pleasurable feelings it caused, you brought a hand down from the headboard, your fingers quickly working over the swollen nub of flesh to leave Lovino to his meticulous thrusting.
He returned to the speed he'd managed before he'd stopped, slamming into you, albeit sloppier than before. You were both sort of worn out and fatigued, but you knew that it would only make your orgasm seem more intense. That was enough motivation to keep you going, and at this point, you didn't have much farther to go.
"Uhn, Lovino, ooh... Please, please, please... Oh, C'mon! I'm so close!"
"I-a know! Shut up and-a let me concentrate, for crying out loud!"
You only moaned deeply in response, letting your eyelids drift shut as you concentrated, yourself. With your fingers pressing hard on your clit, moving back and forth as Lovi pushed in and out of your tightening walls, it didn't take long.
Your mind went blank, feeling as though you were momentarily in a dream, all sounds were unrecognizable noises, all sights were distant pictures that you paid no attention to, and before you could stop it, the realness of your earth-shattering orgasm came crashing back to you with severe bouts of pleasure.
"O-oh my... God!" You cried, throwing your head back and savoring the sweet release, the feeling of your core contracting around Lovino's rock-hard length, which brought him to his own climax. He cursed and cursed, a long string of repeated four-letter-words that could symbolize anything from anger, to sadness, to extreme pleasure. It was almost obvious which of these emotions fit the moment.
He pushed into you one last time before pulling out hastily, making you arch your back and shudder under him, writhing and letting out a long mewl of satisfaction while the muscles in your lower tummy twitched. He immediately removed the uncomfortable condom, covered with your juices and filled with his. He tossed it in the small wastebasket by your nightstand, taking care of that last bit of business so he could plop down next to your still shaking form and relax into the soft sheets, shutting his eyes.
You shifted yourself downward, laying on the bed beside him, rolling on your side. You didn't notice, but your hand stayed glued to the center of your thighs, gently and tenderly massaging the warm flesh there to hold on to the lingering feeling of clouds and kaleidoscopes. Your eyelids drifted towards each other, your entire being very sleepy after such exhausting activities, but every movement that didn't involve your own helped you spring back to life.
Like when Lovino reached down towards his shins, grabbing his boxer-briefs and pulling them back up his legs, taking a deep breath and sighing as the waistband snapped on his hips. The angry look on his face was gone, but his scowl remained. You became concerned; he usually smiled goofily, or even smugly after sex. The thought of him being displeased with you was alarming.
"Lovino, what's wrong?" You whispered hoarsely, bringing up your free hand to stroke his cheek. He flinched away at your touch, rolling on his side, away from you.
"Leave-a me alone..." he groaned, groggy and ready for a siesta. The tone in his voice didn't hide the fact that he was upset, though.
"Aw, Lovi," you started sweetly, encouragingly. You ran your hand up and down his back, rubbing his troubles away, "Tell me... Please..."
"Oi, a-here we go, now she's-a smarty-pants and-a knows what I'm-a feeling on the inside," he mocked. Your fingernails dragged down his spine, warning him.
"I don't know what you're feeling, that's why I asked, you jerk," you countered, miffed that he utterly destroyed the erotic buzz you had going. You pulled your hand from your lap, balling up the blanket in your fist as your dress fell back over your hips.
"Yeah, sure. Go ahead and-a call me a jerk. I'm just a big jerk. That's all I'll-a ever be, just a jerk, jerk, jerk--"
"God, Lovino," you started sternly, annoyed and sitting up. "Why are you acting like that?"
"Because I'm a jerk!" He yelled, reaching back to smack your hand away from him. You gasped at him, and he quickly stood up from the bed, stomping over towards the door. "You know, I-a fucking hate it when you-a do this shit."
"Do what?! What did I do?!" You screamed, bewildered as he glared at you, unknotting his tie and throwing it to the ground where his socks lay.
He shook his head, pulling his shirt from his shoulders. "Nothing, ragazza... You never do a-nothing wrong..." He ripped his eyes from you, draped in that wrinkled (COLOR) dress, your hair freshly tangled, your gorgeous face reddened by anger and a recent heat stroke of passion. His jaw clenched, but he couldn't hold back what he wanted to say.
"You're a perfect a-fucking angelo and you belong with some kind of-a nice guy, so why don't-a you get the hell out of my house and a-go find him," he snarked, picking his dirty clothes from the floor and throwing them blindly into a corner.
"What the hell are you talking about?" You asked, completely appalled at what he was saying.
"Don't-a play dumb with me, that's my-a brother's job! You know-a exactly what I'm talking about! About how you-a sit there and act-a sweet and-a lovey when you don't-a mean it!"
"Are you serious? Of course I mean it!" You shouted, standing from the bed and halfway tripping over your dress to face Lovino. He crossed his arms over his chest, defiant, with that fire in his eyes. "Why would you say something like that? What makes you think I don't mean it?"
"I'm not that stupido, ragazza... You don't need me as-a much as you say you do. You know you could-a get anybody you wanted just by looking at them the-a right way..." He shook his head again, shaking himself from the spell you put on him with your bright eyes that teemed with rageful tears. "You can go and-a find somebody that's a-nice to you or cooks and-a cleans for you or takes you out on-a dates or takes a-you dancing. Hell, go to Germany! Let the potato-eater make you a cake! Go see Feliciano, let him-a paint you like one of those Frenchie girls! Oh, and-a don't get me started on the tomato bastard, touching you and-a kissing on you... I'm sure he'll give you-a all the damn a-kids you want!" He started to storm off again, but you caught him by the wrist. When you tried to turn him to face you, he didn't budge.
"Lovino, I love you... If this is because of the stuff that happened at the art show," you paused, shaking your own head in disbelief, "Those were just... weird misunderstandings... I love you. I always have and always will. You keep saying that all these people would do more for me, but I don't want any more!.. I just want you."
"Porcheria," he scoffed, implying that you were lying. "You don't want me... I'm a jerk..."
"... Not all the time," you supported, realizing that he was just down on himself, he just happened to take it out on you.
"Enough of the time to-a be a bad boyfriend," he argued, quietly, daring a glance over his shoulder.
"What? No, Lovi, you're a great boyfriend!" You praised, a small smile working its way to your face as you took his hand and held it to your heart.
"Yeah, whatever..." But you knew you had won him over. He turned back to you, looking down at his feet, disappointed in himself. He sighed, "(Y/N), you know I-a just wish I could be better for you-a, that's all. I guess I just got-a worked up over fratello's show, like you said." You nodded in understanding, tugging him back to the bed and pulling down the sweat-slicked covers. "I saw how you looked at-a everything like it was-a magnifico, and it-a made me feel like shit 'cause I'm not-a good at anything."
"Aw, Lovino," you cooed, babying him and making him blush lightly. "C'mere." You crawled back up on the bed and patted the spot next to you before lying down. He slowly followed your request, lying on his side to face you, this time. "You are a good boyfriend, I love you, and you're good at making me happy. And you're good in bed, too," you joked, giggling and curling into him.
"And you're a good-a liar," he teased back, smiling wryly. You pouted, making him chuckle and snuggle up to you.
"You know what else you'd probably be good at, Lovi?" You egged, tracing the neckline of his undershirt with your fingertip, your hot breath warming his neck. He grunted sleepily in response, not bothering to open his mouth anymore. "You'd probably make a good papà..."
You looked up to see his reaction. He only locked eyes with you, those amber flames blazing.
"Stupid ragazza... Drivin' me-a crazy..."