But Too Well

XLVIII : Another

2

HE LAYS ME gently down onto the soft duvet of his bed and takes a moment to just look at me, as I wait, flushed and warm and wanting. The expression on his face while he watches, rakes his gaze over me, makes me hot from head to toe.

I'm not even naked, yet, but he looks like he wants to devour me. He tugs his shirt off in one swift motion, and it's my turn to stare at the hard planes and ridges of his toned chest, golden and perfect.

"You're breathtaking, Rosalina." I flush as he bends down and settles himself between my bare legs, and I know right away what he's planning. He plants a gentle kiss on my ankle, trailing his nose up my calf and then slowly, teasingly, dragging his soft lips across my thigh, higher, higher. My fingers dig into the sheets.

He places a whisper of a kiss against the inside of my thigh, inches from where my legs meet. A rough hand keeps my leg bent, my foot flat against the bed. When I feel his hot breath through the thinness of my panties, a tiny distance away from the softest part of me, a whimper escapes my parted lips.

But before he gives me what I want, he stills, and his warm hands push the t-shirt I'm wearing up, off my thighs, off my hips. I help him peel it away and then my naked chest is exposed to the cold air of the room, and my nipples stiffen, my breaths are heavy.

He watches the rise and fall of my chest, the tips of my breasts dark and aching for his touch, just as the space between my thighs is slick with want. Every part of me needs him.

The way his eyes swallow me, whole, is mesmerizing. "Nero," I whisper, running a hand gently through his thick hair. His fingers slide beneath the lace of my underwear, pulling the scrap of fabric down my legs and discarding it somewhere on the floor.

With his face an inch from the apex of my thighs, warm breath tickling my soft skin, he uses one hand to hold me gently still and the other to tilt my knee aside, exposing me to him. He drapes one of my legs over his shoulder, bringing his hot exhales even closer to the center of me. Before I can mentally prepare myself, he places an open-mouthed kiss right there, tender and wet, and my strangled cry escapes into the space around us.

He holds my trembling hips against the sheets as his tongue flicks across me, he sucks my soft, slick flesh and caresses the swollen skin, sending waves of intense, searing, unbearable pleasure through my whole body. My fingers in his thick hair press him closer, and when he pushes his tongue deeper into me I come apart against his face, calling his name, the knot of tension in my stomach melting into a sugary pool and my muscles falling limp onto his bed.

When he props himself up to hover over me, the wetness, my wetness, coats his pink lips and they spread into a knowing grin. He brings his mouth close to mine and whispers, "You taste really fucking good, dolcezza." And he makes sure I know it, capturing my lips and filling my mouth with the sweetness of my orgasm.

3

I DIDN'T THINK it was possible to come from just his warm mouth and rough fingers and the cold air on my nipples as the heat of his hard body hovers over me, but I do.

4

I PEEL AWAY his sweats, his briefs. My skin is already coated in a thin sheen of sweat and my muscles ache, but I want him inside me.

He lines his body up with mine, and the hard planes of his chest are flush with the softness of my curves. He leans in and mumbles into my ear, "How many was that?" I know exactly how many, and I'm sure he does too.