He suddenly grabs my hips, growing impatient or wanting to take control, and keeps me suspended while he thrusts rapidly from underneath. His neck and forearms cord from the effort.
I roll my head back and moan in pleasure. I’m getting close to release.
I think he senses it because he stops jackhammering and lets go of my waist. I plunge back down and his cock rams deep inside me. I gasp with pleasure.
He waits patiently underneath me. It’s up to me to finish this.
I start riding him once more.
“Lean forward,” he growls.
I do, so that my breasts are rocking back and forth above him. I expect him to grab them, maybe nibble on them like he usually does, but instead he brings his hands down to my palms and threads his fingers through mine. I place all the weight of my upper body onto those lovely hands, trusting him entirely. I know he’ll hold me up.
“I’m going to cum,” I pant.
“Wait for me,” he commands.
I slow down. I love cumming at the same time as him. It feels so much more intimate that way.
He gently turns me onto my side and slides out at the same time. I pout in disappointment, but then he crawls over me—I feel his cock teasingly drag along my hips. He positions himself behind me, spooning me. Then he inserts his cock once more and nuzzles my neck.
“I want to be close to your face when I cum,” he says. “I want to hear your screams at their raw source.”
He begins pounding me from behind. At the same time, he pulls my hair back, forcing me to expose my neck, and then he bites it tenderly.
I moan, and press my cheek into the sand. I rock my hips encouragingly—well, as much as I can in my current position.
He runs kissing along my jawline, continuing to hammer me, until he reaches my ear, which he nibbles.
“Fuck you’re so hot,” he growls softly in my ear.
I’m getting close again. I stop rocking my hips. I try not to squeeze his cock with my pussy, or do anything else that might set me off prematurely. I’m trying very hard to wait for him…
Even so, I’m squirming, and my back is starting to arch. I squeeze my fingers, gripping handfuls of sand. I can’t take it anymore.
“I’m going to cum,” I warn him.
He pounds all the harder.
“Massimo!” I scream as release finally comes. My toes curl up, and my core shudders. “Massimo!”
He moans gutturally in return, and I can feel the added warmth of his cum piling up inside me.
Finally he slumps against me, and rests a hand over my side.
“You’re incredible, as always,” he tells me.
“Not as incredible as you,” I coo.
I still almost can’t believe he’s mine. Even after seven months. The honeymoon period never really ended. We make love every day, usually multiple times. When we’re not working, we try to do everything together. I guess we’re making up for lost time. Trying to compress eight years of squandered love into seven months.
He grabs my hand, interlinks his fingers with mine. “I love you, Angela Amato.”
“Angela Moretti now,” I remind him.
“Angela Amato Moretti,” he clarifies.
“I like the sound of that,” I agree.
