And there’s so much of it. Elio moves up to my mouth, kissing me slowly, then harder. His hands slide over my breasts, down my ribs, working my sleep shorts and panties off of my hips until I’m lying bare beneath him while he’s still fully clothed. He leans back on his knees, gaze traveling down my naked body, and I feel self-conscious for the first time with him.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs. “As beautiful as I remember. So fucking gorgeous.”
I don't know what to say to that. So instead, I reach up and pull him down into another kiss.
This time, when his tongue sweeps into my mouth, I kiss him with everything I have—all my fear and desire and desperate need for this to be real, even though I know it isn't. His weight settles over me, careful and controlled, and I can feel the hard length of him pressing against my hip.
He wants this too. Whatever his reasons, whatever his reservations, he wants me.
His hand slides down my hip, moving between my thighs. He parts my folds, sucking in a breath when he feels how wet I am. “Fuck,” he breathes, two fingers sliding back and forth in my wetness as I feel his cock twitch against my hip. “God, you’re fucking drenched, Annie.”
I whimper at his touch, my hips arching up into his hand, and he curses under his breath in Italian. “Tell me if this is toomuch,” he murmurs as his fingers poise at my entrance, and I bite my lip, on the verge of begging him to stop going so slowly.
"It's not enough," I breathe.
He makes a sound that's half laugh, half groan, and then I feel the sensation of his fingers sliding inside of me.
We’ve never done this before. He was always careful not to go this far, before. For the first time, some part of Elio is inside of me, and the pleasure is overwhelming.
I grab onto his shoulders, fingers digging in as I clench around his fingers, and he stops instantly. “Are you okay?” he asks, and I nod quickly, rapidly.
“I’m fine,” I breathe. “Better than fine. Please—don’t stop…please?—”
He groans at that, his forehead dropping against mine as his fingers start to slowly thrust inside of me, and his thumb finds my clit. The first pass of his thumb over my swollen flesh makes me see stars, and Elio groans as I clench around him again.
“Hearing you beg me—cuore mio, I could come just hearing that.”
I can feel him twitching against my hip, his cock thick and rigid, hot through the thin layer of fabric that separates us. His fingers keep working me as he kisses me again, getting me used to the sensation of something inside of me, so much less than what I feel lying against my thigh. But his fingers feel so good, working back and forth, his thumb pressing upward with each stroke, touching me exactly the way I need him to.
I’m so close. My nails dig into his shoulders as his tongue sweeps against mine, and I roll my hips into his hand, my muscles tensing. “Elio—” I moan his name into his mouth, and then I feel the pleasure burst through me, a firework of sensation that doesn’t stop as his fingers keep up their rhythm.
It’s incandescent, incredible. I cry out, my breasts pressed against his chest as he works me through the orgasm, and Ishudder, breathless as I sink back against the pillows. As he slides his fingers out of me, I grab for his shirt, trying to tug it off.
“You’re overdressed.”
“Not yet,” he murmurs, dodging my grip and sliding down my body. I gasp as his mouth travels down between my breasts, over the taut plane of my stomach, down to the soft copper curls between my thighs. His hands grip my legs, pushing them apart, and then I feel his fingers parting my folds as he takes in the sight of my most intimate flesh.
“Come on, my tongue,cuore mio, and then I’ll take my shirt off.” He looks up at me, eyes glinting, and I swat at his arm, laughing for a split second before his tongue swipes up my center. My laugh turns into a broken gasp, my entire body tensing as his tongue finds my clit and his fingers slide into me again.
If I thought the sensation of his tongue was mindblowing before, that, combined with the slow stroke of his fingers inside of me, makes me feel as if I’m melting, dissolving, every part of me on the verge of coming undone. I would have thought I couldn’t come so soon again on the heels of one orgasm, but Elio’s tongue and fingers are magic, and I can already feel the pleasure building to its peak again.
I feel him groan against me as I start to come, my hips arching against his mouth as he pins me to the bed with his free hand on my stomach, sucking my clit between his lips as my orgasm crashes over me. I cry out, a strangled sound that’s something like his name, riding his tongue shamelessly through my climax until I’m lying boneless and panting in the sheets.
“You… promised,” I manage, and Elio laughs, a deep, rough sound low in his throat as he reaches up and strips his shirt over his head.
Fuck,he’s gorgeous. All carved muscle and smooth skin, rippling and bunching as I reach out to touch him. Elio’s headtips back as I slide my hands down his chest, and I see his cock jerk in the confines of his sleep pants. He reaches down, pulling them off with one swift motion, and I gasp softly as his cock springs free, slapping against his ridged abs.
Elio opens his eyes, grinning as he takes in the look on my face. “God, I love seeing you look at my cock like that.”
I can’t stop staring at all of him. I trace the lines of his body with my eyes, memorizing the planes of his chest, the ridges of his abdomen, the dark trail of hair that leads down to his thick, throbbing length.
There's a scar on his ribs—white and puckered, clearly old. Without thinking, I lean up and reach out, tracing it with my fingertips.
"Knife fight," he says, touching my hand. "When I was nineteen. Stupid kid stuff."
I bite my lip. "Does it hurt?"
"Not anymore." He brings my hand to his lips, kissing my palm. "The only thing that hurts right now is how badly I want you."
