“You…will tell me if it’s too much?” He gave her hair a little shake, and her gaze left his cock to meet his eyes. This was important. “You will tell me if it’s too much, Georgiana?”
“It won’t be.”
Bloody hell. She said it so quickly, with such surety. Fitz supposed he was going to fuck his wife’s mouth now, then.
He tightened his grip on her hair and pulled her to sit tall on her knees. Her mouth parted, and her small pink tongue darted out to wet her lips. Readying herself for him. He groaned. She truly wanted this.I am the luckiest man alive.
He dragged her head back, stretching her neck to the side, delicate, elegant. He traced a finger down the soft column. She shivered. She was beautiful like this. Seductive. Supplicant. And for the second time in Fitz’s life, a foreign, primitive impulse came over him.His.
He cupped her chin, turning her toward him. Then hooked his thumb on her bottom teeth and pulled her open for him. His free hand went to his cock, and he gave it a few slow pulls. He was painfully hard, his cock angry and weeping. The climb to orgasm with constant interruptions had him near exploding. With frustration. With want.
He eased into her mouth, and they groaned in unison. His eyes fell shut as he slid in and out of her. Shallow, but slowly slipping deeper, deeper as she coated him, made him slicker, wetter. She wrapped around him so tightly; it was otherworldly in its bliss.
His gaze collided with hers. She watched him, nostrils flaring, lids heavy. The sight was too much, watching his cock disappear between her slick, pink lips stretched wide around him. He thrust harder. And Georgiana didn’t bat an eye. Lord, could she have truly meant it?It won’t be. He snapped his hips forward, and the chit bloody swallowed.
Fuck. Fuck fuckfuck.
His shock must have shown on his face because her heavy lids lifted slightly, a seductive glint glowing in her eyes. If her mouth wasn’t full of his cock, he knew she’d be smirking at him.Saucy kitten.
“Mia audace micetta,” he murmured through pants.
Pleasure careened through him, settling heavily in his cock, every slide of her tight, warm mouth over his prick devastating. He leaned forward, bracing a hand on his desk while holding her securely by the hair with his other. Her hands had latched onto his hips.
He thrust into her again and again, building up to a rough, ragged rhythm. Dear God, this was paradise, heaven, ecstasy.
“Tu mi prendi così bene, micetta.”
His kitten took him so well. So beautifully.
“Sei bellissima.”
Georgiana moaned, the delicious vibrations shooting a streak of pleasure straight down his spine. He glanced at his wife, and a long, low groan left him. Because Georgiana had her skirts rucked up to her waist, and one of her hands had disappeared beneath the fabric. Her eyes were glazed, unfocused. She took him easily, each drive of his hips. And touched herself. Her own hips moving in tandem with his. And something about that fact blew his lust into a burning frenzy, flames of pleasure threatening to destroy him. Because him fucking her mouth? Sinking his cock deep past those pretty stretched lips? She liked it. She clearly loved it. Lusted for it.
“Dio, vorrei poter sentire quanto è bagnata quella bella fica.”
I wish I could feel how wet that pretty cunt is.
It was so much easier for him to let the words fall, knowing she didn’t understand. One day he’d work up the courage to say them. But for now, Italian would have to do.
Her moans grew louder, and his thrusts grew harder.
“Così. Prendimi fino in fondo, amore.”
He sank deep, and she gagged. He nearly came. He nearly ended this bliss much too soon. But then she pulled off him, her fingers digging into his hips, and she cried out. Her body tensed, then convulsed, and she buried her face in the crook of his hip as shudder after shudder wracked her frame, the most beautiful moans fleeing her lips, sinking into his skin.
He barely had time to savor the sight of her, the sound of her, the soft sighs that seared him. Shattered him. Because she was back on him, swallowing him to the root. And she took control this time. He merely held onto his desk for the ride. A ride of wicked pleasure that filled every crevice, throbbed heavily in every muscle, pulsed violently in every vein.
The pressure peaked, lurched to an unbearable height. Fuck, it was too much. It was—It was ecstasy. Fitz’s lungs heaved, and he gritted his teeth, but he was nothing against what was raging inside of him. His hand shot to Georgiana’s head, and he sank to the back of her throat, held her there as his pleasure crested. The release shot through him, surge after surge of agonizing bliss. Everything disappeared except for soul-crushing pleasure and the incredible woman on her knees delivering it.
“God, Gigi,” he groaned, low, guttural, undone.
He had never come so hard in his life.
And neither of them had been anywhere close to quiet. If anyone was even remotely near, it would be no secret what they had just done.
Fitz slumped back, falling into his chair, and she fell back on her bottom, both gasping for air. He quickly tucked himself away and yanked a handkerchief from his pocket. He leaned forward and gently took her chin.
And paused.
