He spread her thighs wide and glanced up at her. Waiting. Eyes black. Just as overcome by the moment as she was. His chest surged, and it was a beautiful sight.
She’d always wanted to be watched. She wanted the thrill. But the thrill was so much stronger with Fitz, so much stronger than she could have ever imagined. He wasn’t some rakehell who had every woman lifting her skirts with a snap of his fingers. She was a private performance for her adorably befuddled husband, who had just stumbled over the word “fuck.” Something rare and just for him.
She wrapped her fingers tight around the dildo and slid it down her belly, stopping at the apex of her thighs. Her breaths came rapidly now, but instead of dipping between her thighs, she slowed down. Drew out the anticipation, savored the dark desire slackening her husband’s face. His gaze was transfixed between her legs, his entire body still, poised, as he waited for her to move. She thought he might even be holding his breath.
And she couldn’t wait any longer.
She whimpered, nothing but a broken mewl. Then dipped her dildo between her legs, sliding it down and gently rolling it over her flesh. She gasped, and Fitz’s hands flew to her thighs, his body lurching toward her as though he had no control over it. Like his body wanted hers and he could do nothing to stop it. He squeezed, massaged her flesh, and rough, ragged breaths flew past his lips. She drew her dildo back up, bringing with it her slick wetness, allowing for the most delicious glide as she rubbed and rotated the hard ivory over her pulsing flesh. A strangled groan came from Fitz, and her gaze shot up to his. He was locked on what her hand was doing, his jaw ticking, every muscle in his neck corded tight.
“Hai la fica più bella, micetta. Così rosa. Così perfetta. Guarda come luccichi per me.”
Lord save her. More Italian. Her eyes fluttered shut at his words.
You have the prettiest cunt, kitten. So pink. So perfect. Look at how you glisten for me.
This man was like a jarring stop in a carriage, head whipping back and then forward. One moment he was bumbling and blushing, and the next he was self-assured and seductive, whispering the most deliciously dirty things to her with that multi-lingual tongue.
Deep inside, she ached, throbbed for him. She was empty, too empty. She drew her dildo down and notched it at her entrance. Fitz groaned, his hands squeezing painfully tight on her thighs. Pressing her open for his view. The pain felt so good. Apparently, her pause was too much for her husband.
“Inside, Gigi. Fuck yourself. Now.”
A soft cry left her at his command, and she sank her dildo deep in one swift thrust. Her eyes rolled back. That glorious stretch, that glorious feeling of beingfull. Her muscles clenched around the dildo, and she was nothing but an incoherent mess of moans.
Her husband sucked in a sharp breath. “Oh god, oh god, ohgodohgod.” His hands skimmed up and down her thighs, almost frantic, as he watched her. She slid her dildo in and out, picking up speed, playing with the angle until she found the spot, the spot that had her toes curling and her back arching.
And then Fitz’s hands left her. The loss of his large hands had her cold, shivering. But oh,oh.The result was worth the loss. Because Fitz hovered over her, one hand pressed into the bed linens at her side, the other wrapped around his turgid cock. His gaze was glued to her core, just the top of his tousled curls visible to her, and he stroked himself in time to her thrusts. This was heaven, sweet, sweet heaven. He watched her while she was able to watch him in return.
Her husband looked like he was close to losing control, Italian flying from his mouth, his hand flying over his cock.
“Non vedo l’ora di affondare dentro di te.”
I can’t wait to sink deep inside you.
“Dio, ti dilaterò così bene, micetta.”
God, I’m going to stretch you out so good, kitten.
“Mi abbraccerai così forte.”
You’ll hug me so tight.
Dear God, she loved the words falling from his lips. She loved how they carried a soft accent. She loved how he said them, like he was devastated by her. As if his desire and want of her were akin to pain.
His gaze flew to hers, his eyes glowing fire, heated with dark longing, lust. And it latched onto her, tangible, reaching deep inside her, the most intimate of caresses.
“Sono così disperato per te.”
I’m so desperate for you.
She sucked in a breath, her eyes flaring wide. The passion in that gaze, the ferocity in that tone. Her heart scrambled in her chest, determined to get to him. Because when he said those words, delivered them like that, it sounded like he meant more than just sex.
She wasn’t sure if it was his words or her thrusts, but her orgasm was veering toward her, much too fast. She almost didn’t want to come without Fitz inside her. But her husband took away that option. He swung around to the side of her, knees next to her head, planting his hands on either side of her hips, then buried his face between her thighs. His mouth went straight for her clitoris, his tongue licking and then flattening, providing a pulsing pressure that echoed in her core.
Ohgodohgod.
The man’s tongue was deadly. His mouth fatal. She could barely fuck herself, her body so overwhelmed in sensation her hands couldn’t remember what to do. She pressed her feet into the bed and ground against his face, chasing the spiraling ecstasy building inside her. So. Close.
And then he sucked on her clitoris. It was exactly what she needed. The crescendo of pleasure spiked, detonated over her, and she cried out, her body convulsing in uncontrollable shudders. Fitz gentled his pressure, staying with her, drawing out every surge of blissful ecstasy possible. And then she was wriggling away, her skin over-sensitive after her release, and sinking into his bedding, replete.
