He kisses me like he’s starving, one hand fisted in my hair while the calluses of his chef’s fingers slide between my thighs. When those wicked pads find my clit, I gasp into his mouth. It’s a ragged, broken sound that makes him groan.
He circles the swollen nub with ruthless precision, his thumb applying just enough pressure to make my hips buck.
Too much.
Not enough.
“Look at me,” he commands, and my eyelids flutter open to find his dark eyes devouring me, and my every reaction. “I want to watch you unravel.”
His fingers plunge inside without warning. They curl upward, stroking the spot that makes stars burst behind my eyelids. He scissors his fingers slowly, stretching me, while his thumb never stops its maddening rhythm on my clit.
“Marco—”
“Shh. Let me feel you.” His lips trail fire down myneck. “So fucking tight... like you’re milking me already. Fuck I love it.”
The dual sensations... the deep internal pressure and the surface friction... they send shock waves through my nervous system. I’m getting closer... closer...
My thoughts stutter.
More. Need—
His teeth graze my earlobe. “Cum on my fingers.Now.”
The order snaps the last thread of control. My back arches violently, and I bite back a scream as my core convulses around his thrusting, fucking hot fingers. Pleasure detonates and I feel my pussy clenching repeatedly around his fingers, which have stopped moving.
“One.” His voice is gravel against my sweat-slicked skin. Triumphant. Possessive.
But he doesn’t stop.
His fingers start working again, drawing out the aftershocks until I’m writhing, oversensitive and trembling. “Too.... much—”
“Just warming you up, my vixen,” he murmurs, finally withdrawing. The loss makes me whimper. He lifts his glistening fingers to my lips. He sucks one of them. “So good.” He presents the others to me. “Taste yourself. Taste how much you want me.”
I suck his fingers clean, salt and musk andhim, as he watches with hooded eyes.
You’d think the degradation would horrify me.
It doesn’t.
It winds me tighter.
He reaches for his wallet, and the crinkle of foil is obscenely loud. I watch, dazed, as he strips off his Henley. The reveal punches the air from my lungs.His chest is a topography of muscle. Corded pectorals, a deep V leading to the sculpted lines of his abdomen, obliques like steel cables. The dim light catches the trail of dark hair below his navel, pointing like an arrow to the formidable bulge in his jeans.
God. He’s carved.
He unbuttons his fly, freeing himself. His cock springs thick and heavy against his stomach, veins standing in relief. The sheer size makes my mouth water and my inner muscles clench.
Again I find myself wanting to suck him, but I realize I wouldn’t even be able to fit half of it into my mouth. Let alone my pussy...
“I don’t think... I can... take it all,” I breathe, half-hypnotized.
A dark chuckle. “We’ll see.” He sheathes himself efficiently. “Up. Ride me.”
He guides me onto his lap, his hands spanning my waist as I sink down. The stretch burns... sweet, sweet agony, until he’s fully seated inside me.
Our groans mingle.
So full. Splitting me—
