He takes his time, his mouth searching mine as he maps out my torso with his hands, my skin prickling and alive at every touch. Every time I reach out for him, he pushes my hands away, pinning them to the counter before he resumes his slow exploration of my body.
“I wished I’d memorized you before,” he murmurs against my lips. “I realized too late, alone in my room in Chicago, that I couldn’t remember every line of your body the way I wanted to. I’m not going to make that mistake again.”
My breath catches in my throat. I can’t breathe, can’t think. The words spilling from his lips are romantic, painful, words that come with a certainty that this is going to end. That we don’t have forever, we only have right now.
I know that’s the truth, and I desperately want it to be different.
His hands drop to the button of my jeans, flicking it open with ease as his mouth trails from my lips to my jaw, kissing a path to the sensitive spot just below my ear. I let out a shuddering moan as he draws down my zipper, then slowly pushes my jeans down over my hips, letting them drop to the floor and leaving me in only my bikini panties and sports bra.
“I dreamed about tasting you,” he whispers, sending a jolt straight to my pulsing clit. “I imagined what you’d taste like a thousand times. I came for you over and over, imagining the feeling of your pussy on my mouth, you coming on my tongue.” His fingers hook in the waist of my panties, tugging them down my hips, too, and then he’s lifting me in the air, setting me on the edge of the kitchen counter. “I think it’s time I found out.”
I can’t breathe, can’t say a single word. My mouth opens, but nothing comes out. I lean back, my head tapping against a cabinet as Elio arranges me the way he wants me: my ass on the edge of the counter, his hands pushing my thighs wide. “I wanted to look at you last night,” he groans. “I wanted to see this pretty pussy again. I could feel how wet you were for me,cuore mio. I wanted to see it, too.”
His hands press my inner thighs apart, exposing me to him. I should feel embarrassed, vulnerable at how open I am to him, howmuchof me he can see, but I don’t. All I feel is hot, burning arousal at the sight of his gaze fixed between my thighs, his pupils blown black, and his throat working as he takes in the view. I can feel a fresh pulse of wetness, feel myself dripping as he swallows again, hard.
“Beautiful,” he whispers. “So fucking beautiful.”
With one hand, he reaches out to touch me, almost reverently. His thumb slides up my center, between my parted folds, up to my clit. I gasp, moaning with a long, keening soundas the pad of his thumb rolls over my clit. He does it again, once, twice. And then Elio sinks down, his head between my thighs as his lips graze over my throbbing pussy.
My hand slides into his hair, fingers tangling, tugging. “More,” I beg, my head tilting back against the cabinet behind me. “More, please?—”
His hands tighten on my thighs, and he looks up at me, his mouth already damp. The sight sends a fresh jolt of arousal through me. “I’m going to take my time,cuore mio,” he murmurs. “I’ve waited too long to rush.”
A helpless moan falls from my lips, and I close my eyes as I feel his mouth graze me again. It’s torturously slow, excruciatingly pleasurable. I’ve never felt anything so good. I’ve wondered all my life how this would feel, and now it’sEliowhose mouth is on me for the first time, introducing me to the feeling of warm breath ghosting across my swollen flesh, lips grazing my sensitive folds, the tip of his tongue beginning to explore me.
It’s everything I’ve wanted. It’s perfect.
A shuddering sigh leaves me as his tongue trails up my inner folds, his lips lightly sucking at the outer as he works his way up to my clit. His fingers stroke my thighs, almost soothingly as he takes his time, teasing me until I can feel how swollen I am from his ministrations. And then, finally, the tip of his tongue reaches my clit.
White-hot pleasure bursts through me as he circles it, then lightly flutters. I cry out, my fingers knotting in his hair as my hips arch and writhe under his touch. It’s so warm, so wet, so unlike anything I’ve ever felt. So excruciatinglygood.
“Elio—” I whine his name, the one word a plea for more, and he finally,finallygives it to me.
His tongue speeds up, licking over my sensitive, throbbing clit with rhythmic strokes that drive me mad. It’s almost too much, but I don’t want him to stop. He pushes his tongueupward, licking in the same way he moved his finger before, but now the sensation is wholly different. I’m so close already, panting and writhing, and his hands grip my thighs harder.
“Easy,” he murmurs, the word muffled by my flesh. He lifts his head slightly, and I whimper in protest. “I’ll make you come, Annie. You can come whenever you want. You don’t need to fight it.”
When his tongue touches me again, I cry out. I want his fingers inside of me, want something to ease the hollow ache in my body, but he makes no move to penetrate me. Instead, he keeps licking, alternating between fluttering his tongue and licking in quick strokes until he feels my muscles start to tense up. And then he keeps that one motion, pushing his tongue upward against my clit with every pass, and I feel the pleasure expand outward, and burst.
The orgasm tears through me with a force that I’ve never felt before. Sparks burst behind my eyelids, my hips bucking upward, held to the counter only by the strength of Elio’s hands. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t break his rhythm for even a moment. He keeps licking, urging me to ride the waves of pleasure over and over as my fingers dig into his scalp and I come hard on his tongue.
I feel it start to ebb, and I expect him to pull back, but he doesn’t. He softens the strokes of his tongue, letting me come down, and then, just as I feel the pleasure starting to fade entirely, he wraps his lips around my swollen clit andsucks.
The pulsing wetness of his mouth sends a sensation through me that I’ve never felt—couldn’t even have imagined. His tongue flutters against me rapidly as he sucks at my clit, and before I can so much as catch my breath, I feel that pleasure expand and burst again, a sudden, sharp orgasm crashing over me directly on the heels of the first. I feel my arousal flooding his tongue, coating his mouth, and my moans become a high-pitched shriekthat sounds something like his name as I come apart for a second time.
This time, when he eases me down, he pulls back. His mouth and chin are soaked, and he lets go of one thigh, casually dragging the back of his hand across his mouth in a way that makes me flush with arousal all over again.
“Fuck, Annie,” he growls, one hand still gripping my thigh. “You taste so fucking good. I could eat you all fucking night.”
Then do it, I almost say, desperate to find out if he could make me come like that again. But instead, I reach down, hooking my fingers in his belt loops and pulling him in. He comes to me easily, his eyes still dark with lust, a look in them as if he’s slightly dazed, too, though as far as I know, he hasn’t come yet. I reach down, pressing my palm against his cock, and he’s so fucking hard, straining against his zipper, that I know it must hurt.
Elio lets out a hiss at the contact, his head falling back. “I need to take care of this,” he whispers. “I almost fucking came in my jeans when you came for me that second time. God, Annie—” He leans forward, his forehead touching mine. “I need to fucking come.”
I curl my fingers against him, working his cock outside of his jeans, and he groans. “Then come inside me,” I whisper, and his head snaps up.
“Annie.” His voice flattens, and he takes a step back. “No. We’ve been over this. I’m not going to—we can’t?—”
“We stopped before. When you left for Chicago.” I hate the pleading note in my voice, but I want him so fucking badly. I don’t want this to end the same way, with him walking away and me spending years—maybe the rest of my life—wishing I knew what it was like to be with him completely. Wishing he was the one to take my virginity—not even take, really, because I’d give it to him gladly.
