Just as I’m about to tell him to wait, he ducks down and sucks my nipple into his mouth while shoving his hand into my shorts. In a move I’ll never be able to carry out, he forces my legs to open wider with one of his knees, then his finger strokes through the arousal that’s gathered at my entrance.
Ohhhhhh Godddddd.
The moan escaping me is embarrassingly loud, and instead of pushing him away, I wrap a hand around the back of his neck while my other one grips his wrist. My hips gyrate as I search for much more friction.
What did I want to do?
Christiano feasts on my breasts like a starving man, his teeth working my nipples into stiff peaks. It feels unbelievably good, making my abdomen clench, causing more of my arousal to soak his fingers.
Can’t remember.
Passion and lust detonate between us, obliterating the alarm bells.
Using my body, I push against his, and when he relents and lets me shove him onto his back, I climb the man like a tree. The flash of surprise on his face barely registers with me as I hurry to undo the buttons of his black dress shirt. When I shove the fabric out of my way, and I see dark outlines of new tattoos that weren’t there the last time I saw him shirtless, I’m gone for the man.
Christiano sits up, and while he strips the shirt off and tosses it beside the bed, I work to get his belt undone.
Just as an alarm starts to ring in the back of my mind, he flips me over in a single, swift move. As I land on my back, he grabs my pajama shorts and hauls them down my legs.
Not even bothering to take off his pants, he only shoves the fabric down enough to free his cock. I barely get a glimpse of his manhood before he positions himself at my entrance.
He braces his left hand beside my head, and as he claims my mouth in an uncontrollable kiss, he grabs hold of my hip and thrusts. When he doesn’t enter me, I begin to feel feverish with desperation. He pushes hard, and when he breaches my opening, he surges so deep that a sharp and burning pain rips me out of the passion-induced coma he has me in.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he groans against my mouth, his body shuddering hard.
I draw in a sharp breath as my mind clears enough for me to realize I’m having sex with Christiano.
Oh. My. God. What have I done?
He picks up on my change of mood, and lifting his head, our eyes lock.
Jesus. What do I do?
Christiano’s features soften, and he presses a gentle kiss to my mouth before asking, “Do you want to stop?”
It’s a little too late. He’s already inside me.
God. Christiano is buried to the hilt inside me.
The realization has my eyes widening, and for a moment, I’m completely overwhelmed by how big he feels and the fact that I didn’t stop things from escalating to this point.
He braces his forearms on either side of my head and presses another tender kiss to my jaw. “Baby?”
My voice is hoarse as I whisper, “I’m processing.”
“Do you want me to pull out?”
I surprise myself when I shake my head.
His eyes turn incredibly soft, looking like black velvet.
Every emotion I’ve had to fight since the day he got shot in front of me pours into my heart.
The love I feel for him. The need I have for him to protect me. The attraction that just keeps growing, no matter how hard I try to stop it.
Like in every other aspect of my life, I’m not strong enough to tell him to stop. Not with him already buried inside me. Instead, I lift my head and crush my mouth to his.
Christiano quickly takes over control, and when he kisses me with the dominance and heat I find utterly addictive, my worry and chaotic emotions fade to background noise.
