The Things I Used To Love About You

17

We barely got through the front door before our clothes flew off in different directions. his suit jacket dangled from the lamp it had been thrown on as I pushed him down onto his bed. He lay back propped up on his shoulders as he looked up at me as I stood at the end of the bed.

I grabbed his tie pulling him close to me as I crawled over him. "I'm in charge today." I whispered against his lips before pushing him back against bed. "Sexy." He replied as I unbuckled his belt and pulled his trousers and boxers down, freeing his cock. A hiss and "cazzo" leaving his mouth as I took him into my hand.

I could feel his eyes on me, his chest rising and falling quickly, an indication of his lack of composure. Tomasso liked being in control, but tonight it was my turn to take the lead.

I looked up at him smiling—a slow, deliberate smile—knowing full well he could barely sit still, his hips bucking urging my hand to move. "Fuck, Aida." He moaned. My fingers ghosting over his skin, close enough to make him shiver, but never quite touching. I enjoyed watching him try to keep it together, every muscle taut, every breath heavy with anticipation.

"Don't move," I whispered.

I knelt in front of him, taking my time, watching him from beneath my lashes, as I took his tip into my mouth, my tongue swirling around licking the precum that oozed. His eyes were locked on me, almost pleading as I slowly took him in my mouth. I leaned forward, just enough for him to feel my breath on his skin. He gasped, a low sound, almost a growl, as he urged me to take him all the way in.

Every second stretched as I played with him, savouring the way he strained beneath me, desperate but silent. It felt good, knowing how much control I had, how he was completely at my mercy. When I finally took him into my mouth, the sound he made was pure surrender. His hands gripped the bed, knuckles white, as he tried to stay still. Tried to be good for me.

But I wasn't in a rush. I wanted to push him to the edge, to make him feel everything I wanted him to. And he did. His body trembled beneath my touch, his breaths coming in ragged gasps, but he stayed where I wanted him, obeying me without a word.

"Fuck me, I'm coming Aida." He grunted his hips thrusting him deeper into my mouth as his warm cum hit the back of my throat. I swallowed before sitting back on my heels, a satisfied grin on my face.

His chest was heaving, his eyes dark with need. I smirked, pushing him back onto the bed, climbing on top of him with a slow, deliberate grace. His hands found my hips, but I was still in control. I moved the way I wanted, leading him, guiding his touch.

As we moved together, the dynamic began to shift—no longer just about control, but something deeper, more primal. I could feel my resolve slipping, the power I'd held so tightly now dissolving into something raw and real. My movements slowed, my hands softer on his skin, less about domination, more about connection.

And then, as the intensity reached its peak, the words slipped out before I could stop them.

"I love you."

It wasn't meant to be said, not like this. I hadn't planned for it. But once the words were out, I couldn't take them back. I froze, my breath caught in my throat, waiting—hoping—for him to say something, anything.

The words came out in a whisper, but they hit me harder than I expected, vulnerable and exposed. For a moment, I regretted saying them—until I saw the way he looked at me. His hands cupped my face, pulling me down to him, his breath warm against my lips.

"I love you too," he whispered, and I knew then that I wasn't in control anymore. Not of this.