“Alessandro—” His name is half prayer, half plea.
“I’ve got you. Trust me.”
When she’s finally ready, when her body has adjusted and she’s writhing beneath me, seeking more, positioning comes carefully. The blunt head of my cock presses against that tight ring of muscle, and her entire body goes rigid.
“Easy. Breathe. Push back against me, yes, like that.”
The first breach is exquisite torture. She’s impossibly tight, her body resisting even as she tries to relax. My hand findsher clit again, circling, providing pleasure to offset the burn of penetration.
“Too much—” Her voice breaks. “It’s too—”
“Color, Elena. Give me a color.”
A pause. Then: “Yellow. Not red, it’s intense.”
“Yellow means we pause.” Immediately stilling, despite every instinct screaming to push forward. “Breathe. Let your body adjust. We have all the time in the world.”
Long moments pass. Her breathing evens. The tension in her shoulders gradually releases. My fingers continue their gentle work on her clit, keeping her aroused, keeping pleasure flowing.
“Okay,” she finally whispers. “Okay, I’m ready. More.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes, sir. Please. I want, I want all of you. Everywhere.”
The last of my control fractures. Slowly, so slowly, pressing deeper. Her body yields inch by inch, accepting the invasion, until finally being fully seated. The sensation is overwhelming, heat and pressure and possession so complete it borders on sacred.
“Cristo.” The word is torn from my throat. “Elena, you feel—”
“Full.” She gasps. “So full. Alessandro—”
“I know, tesoro. I know.” My hand tangles tighter in her hair, the other still working her clit. “You’re taking me so perfectly. Taking everything I’m giving you.”
Movement starts slow, shallow thrusts that make her gasp and whimper. But as her body adjusts, as pleasure builds to overwhelm the burn, the rhythm increases. Deeper. Harder. My hips driving forward while my fingers work her clit with practiced precision.
“Oh God—” Her voice rises, desperate. “Alessandro, I’m—I’m going to—”
“Not yet. Hold it.”
“I can’t, please, it’s too much—”
“You can. You will.” My hand releases her hair, sliding around to grip her throat, not choking, just holding, owning. “You’ll come when I tell you, with me buried in your ass, while I claim every last part of you. Understand?”
“Yes, sir, but please—”
“Now, tesoro. Come for me now.”
Permission granted, she shatters. Her entire body convulses, the orgasm ripping through her with such force she screams, a raw, primal sound, completely unrestrained. The way her body clamps down triggers my own release, spilling deep inside her while she writhes and gasps beneath me.
The pleasure is so intense she uses her safe word “Red! Red!” Not from pain, but from the overwhelming sensation that borders on too much.
Immediately withdrawing, gathering her shaking form into my arms. “I’ve got you. You’re safe. Breathe, tesoro. Just breathe.”
She’s trembling, tears streaming down her face, but when she looks at me, her expression is dazed satisfaction rather than distress.
“Too much?” Concern makes my voice rough.
“Perfect amount.” Her laugh is shaky. “So intense. So intense I forgot how to process it.”
