Santo’s smile is dark, predatory. “Iamtouching you.”
“Santo, don’t tease,” I whimper.
His fingers hook into the edge of my panties, and I gasp as he tugs them aside with practiced ease.
His fingertips find me, slick, warm, and he groans softly, the sound low enough to vibrate against my skin.
“Christo, Dea…you’re dripping.”
His voice dips into that dark, sinful tone that always makes my knees weak. “Look at you,” he growls. “So fucking perfect.”
Heat rushes through my entire body.
“Santo—”
“Hush.” His mouth brushes my jaw. “Let me feel you.”
His fingers slide through my wetness from my entrance to my clit and my hips instinctively rise to meet him.
His breath catches.
Sharp and possessive.
He chuckles darkly then whispers, kissing the corner of my mouth. “Already soaking my hand. You needed this.”
His thumb finds my clit, circling with slow, deliberate pressure. My breath catches involuntary.
“That’s my girl,” he praises softly. “You love that, don’t you?”
My fingers clutch the counter for balance. “Yes! Santo—”
“Then take it,” he murmurs, voice rough silk. “Take what you need.”
Two fingers sink into me slowly, deep, filling me in one steady, claiming stroke that knocks the air from my lungs.
A soft cry catches in my throat. “Oh!”
His forehead presses to mine, grounding me.
“There she is,” he breathes. “That pretty little pussy hugging my fingers already.”
His fingers curl inside me, finding that perfect spot that makes stars explode behind my eyes.
“Yes!” I gasp, my head falling back as pleasure ripples through me.
His mouth is on my neck instantly, hot and demanding as he works his fingers deeper.
“Mm, just like that,” he whispers before sucking softly at my skin. “Let me work you open.”
My thighs tremble. “Santo…”
“Hold on,” he orders softly.
His fingers work inside me, slow and perfect, while his thumb keeps that steady, devastating rhythm on my clit. Pleasure builds fast, climbing sharp and bright, tightening deep inside me.
“You’re close.”
He says it like a certainty, not a guess.
