"Luca," I say.
"What is it, Elena?"
"I trust you."
"Bene," he says, and kisses me, a deep, soul-searing kiss.
I feel his cock, thick and hard, against my leg, and I want him inside me, but then his hand is sliding between my legs, and his fingers are pushing inside, and he's working them in and out, and it feels so good, the sensations overwhelming.
"Can you trust me a little more?" he murmurs in my ear.
I nod. "Yes."
He pulls back, but I still feel him, kneeling between my legs.
The cool thing against my leg disappears, and I hear the sound of a bottle opening.
My heart starts pounding faster and harder.
"Elena," he says, and his tone is commanding. "Say it again. Do you trust me?"
"Yes."
"Will you use the clicker if you need me to stop?"
"Yes," I promise.
"Good," he says.
There's a pause, and then I feel his fingers, slicked with cool, slippery lube, pressing against my ass.
I gasp, but his free hand wraps around my ankle, stroking the skin, reassuring me.
"Relax," he murmurs. "You love it. I promise."
"I've never—"
"I know, panini," he soothes, and there's such kindness in his tone, it shocks me. "Just a finger. Use the clicker if you want me to stop."
"Okay," I whisper.
He rubs his slick finger around my entrance, coaxing me, murmuring soft words to me.
I moan, the feeling so good, and then his finger slides inside, just a little, and I gasp, and his other hand slides through the wetness between my legs, rubbing me lightly.
"You're doing so well, Elena," he praises, and the words send a bolt of warmth and pride through my chest.
I've never had anyone say those things to me before, and the praise feels so good.
"Just a little more, that's it," he murmurs, and I moan.
"Good girl, so good, Elena."
And his finger slides deeper.
"Oh, God," I pant.
"Does it feel good?"
