In my fantasies, he was never so caring, never so gentle. Never so interested in how my body reacted to his.
I think I prefer the reality of Alessandro to my fantasies.
I start to unbutton his shirt, my trembling fingers making me clumsy. Even before it falls fully open, I slide my hands in, too eager to feel that hard body. Alessandro’s physical strength is blatantly obvious just by looking at him, but it’s almost overwhelmingly sexy to be able tofeelthose muscles moving under my fingers. The rearing bull tattoo on the left side of his chest seems almost alive as he shifts, and I trace over the lines of it before finding his nipple, caressing it into a bud as he slides a hand down my flank. With a shy glance up at him, I wriggle down a little in the bed and press my lips to the tight nub, circling it with my tongue.
He rolls over on the bed, giving me more space, raising his hips as he shoves down his pants. I pause for a moment as he tugs them off, kicks them away, and then all he’s wearing are the tight white Y-fronts that have been haunting me since the first moment I saw him in them. They’re so low on his hips that his curls spring over the waistband, and I run my fingers through the hair on his belly.
“You’re still sure?” he asks in a low, guttural voice. His dick is straining in its cotton cage, and I can’t take my eyes off of it.
I nod, fast. “But I don’t think you’ll fit,” I say, and then duck my head when he chuckles.
“Oh, we would make it fit, believe me. But tonight, I plan to leave you begging for more, little teddy bear.” With that, he pushes me back against the pillows again, my wrist still in his hand, and he kisses down my neck with slow, hungry lips.
His tongue flicks out, tasting me, licking at me, before moving to my shoulder. His fingers squeeze my wrist tighter, and I wonder if I’ll bruise.
The thought of him marking me sends shivers through me. Maybe I like the thoughttoomuch.
His lips move down my chest and stomach but his fingers are advancing faster, trailing over the marks he left on my inner thighs. His eyes flick up to mine, and my legs fall wider open as he gives me a dark, possessive smile.
“So sweet to know I am the only man who has been here. Or have you allowed others to taste you?”
“N-no,” I choke out. “You’re…you’re the first, Alessandro.”
I give a little shiver as one of his fingers strokes down my shaft, over my balls, teasing me. Then there’s a pressure at my asshole, and I tighten up despite myself. My breath catches in my throat.
“Relax,” he whispers, and I feel his finger press against me, massaging against my asshole, pressing in a little, just a little…
“I thought you weren’t going to...you know...”
“Don’t worry. Just focus on relaxing.”
I close my eyes resolutely andtry, but he moves on the bed, reaching for something, and I hear the nightstand open, the familiar sound of a bottle being uncapped. I’ve jerked off enough times in my life to know exactly what it is, and I clench up again, right on his fingertip.
He pulls his hand away, and I whimper.
“Give me a moment,tesoro,” he says gently, and soon enough his fingers are back on me, stroking over my hole slowly. This time, though, his fingers are slick with lube, and after a momentary pressure, he breaches me with ease, his fingertip sliding in—deeper—deeper…
“Good?” he asks.
A shaky moan leaves me.
“Well? Do you like it?”
“Yes.” I roll my hips, feeling him inside me. I’ve tried toys before, but even the flesh-like ones that I bought didn’t feel like...this. He kisses my neck, his finger twisting slowly inside me, and I moan again.
“Do you want me to keep going?”
“Yes, please,” I whisper, and he laughs.
“Such sweetness coming from your mouth. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be begging for my cock, blushing at your own filthy words. Now, stay still a moment—”
His finger pulls out, and I moan in disappointment, but at once the pressure against my hole builds again. “Two fingers, hm? Can you handle two fingers?”
“Yes!” I gasp. I want to feel his fingers inside me again, but they stay at my knot, rubbing slowly, teasing, and I open my eyes. He smiles, a dimple appearing in his non-scarred cheek, and my heart leaps along with my cock. I reach out for him, but he catches my finger in his mouth, sucking at it for a moment, before pulling off with a pop, and my dick jumps again, desperate for that kind of attention.
He gives a low hum. “Good boy. You want this, don’t you? You want this pretty little ass finger-fucked?”
I arch my back in a wordless response and he slides two fingers in. The burn is quickly drowned by the pleasure, the sensation of it as he withdraws, then plunges in again, a wet squelch that—even just a minute ago—might have made me blush, but now makes me writhe around hoping to hear it again.
