His body came at mine, and mine went for his, and we tangled like the cords around the plinth. But it was controlled chaos, every one of his touches precise, pressing on every one of my pleasure points, sending my body into a delicious swirl.
His tongue searched deep inside of my mouth, and just that alone made me feel like I was made of air and floating. His hands rooted me to my body, his fingers stroking my skin, and my legs parted for him.
His eyes were dilated, and they went straight to my thighs. He said something in Italian, and even though I didn’t understand the language, I knew it had something to do with how wet I was for him. His eyes became even more hooded, almost closed, and when his mouth closed over my nipple and his hand came between my legs…
I moaned so loud, he made ammmmnoise deep in his throat as his mouth came over mine. The kiss was hungry, and the more I moaned into his mouth, the deeper his tongue would go. His tempo was perfect against my slick center, and the pressure between my legs started to increase.
The pleasure moved over my body like a slow-rising fire.
“Yes,” I whispered, stroking his neck. “Right there.Mmm…more.” It seemed like he read the signals of my body, because my entire body was coiled tight, about to orgasm.
“Not yet,” he rasped out.
I whimpered when his touch stopped, but sighed when he started to kiss me again, and then I gasped when he entered me in a thrust that made me clench around him so tight, he cursed and made a sound low in his throat.
We both stilled, the pleasure indescribable.
He was thick and long and…he was stretching me, filling me up until it felt like I couldn’t breathe. He raised my leg and moved, pushing into me even deeper. I closed my eyes and let out a long, deep, pleasurable sound. It was met by a low growl in his throat.
The physical side of this was on another level, but the deeper connection…was unlike anything I’d ever experienced in my life.
I knew I’d never experience it again with anyone but him.
He started to push into me even harder, but his strokes were slow. His whispered words in Italian only pushed me closer and closer to the edge.
It was sweet madness.
When I couldn’t stop what I desperately needed, release from these chains, I let go and came around him with a cry. He started to pump into me faster, and when he tilted his head back and groaned deep in his throat, so deep, I could see the vibration of it, he came inside of me.
That wasn’t sex.
That was making love.
I’d finally understood the idiom…killing me softly.
Naz had come in like a tiptoeing thief in the night, and once inside, made his permanent mark. A soft claim that was as hard as the strongest fuck.
He did what I always thought was impossible.
Claimed me down to the bone.
For a second, we just breathed each other in, until he pulled out, pulling me close, his arms around my body like iron bars.
But they didn’t feel like a cage to me.
They felt like a protective home.
* * *
I wasn’t sure how long I slept for, but when I woke up, I was still wrapped in Nazzareno’s arms. I’d decided that I liked to call him by his full name rather than a shortened version.
It didn’t fit him.
Even if he wasn’t over six feet tall, he’d never be the shortened version of anything.
I turned my head a fraction and peeked at him. He was asleep. And not only did he have me wrapped in his arms, but his entire body seemed to shield me.
It felt good to feel so…safe. Safer than I’d felt in years, even if I hadn’t noticed how unsteady my feet had felt in the world from carrying so much armor.
