“More,” she begs. “Please, Valerio.”
I redouble my efforts, my tongue flicking rapidly against her as I suck. My hands roam her body, squeezing her ass, sliding up to cup her breasts, pinching her nipples.
“Valerio,” she cries out. “I’m—”
I slide two fingers inside her. That’s all she needs to come against my mouth. I don’t stop until she pushes me away, panting, her eyes dark.
“Do you want to go all the way?” she asks.
I contemplate it, my mind racing. I feel like I’ll die if I don’t. But I need something first.
“Do you want it?” I growl.
“I feel like I will combust if I don’t have your huge cock inside me,” she breathes.
I grip her hair, forcing her to meet my gaze. “Tell me you need it,” I demand.
“I need it.”
I’d never be like my father. My touch isn’t his. It’s mine. This is mine.
I push her onto the couch, positioning myself between her legs. The head of my cock presses against her entrance, then I’m inside her.
The feeling is indescribable. Her cunt grips me, pulling me deeper. Oh God, it feels so good. I start to move, my strokes slow at first, then faster, harder. I’m pounding into her now.
Her nails dig into my back, her legs wrapping around my waist. “Yes,” she cries out. “Don’t stop.”
I can feel myself getting closer, the pressure building again. But I’m not coming before her. I reach between us, my fingers finding her clit, rubbing it in circles as I continue to thrust into her.
I’m counting in my head, focusing on her pleasure, determined not to come before she does. One, two, three… four, five, six… she’s close, I can feel it. Seven, eight, nine…
She shatters with a cry, her inner muscles clamping down on my cock. The sensation is too much, and I follow her over the edge.
We collapse together. I’m still inside her, still feeling her pulse around me.
I want to stay like this forever.
Chapter Twelve
Charlotte
Iwake up in a haze, my skin feeling raw. I don’t remember falling asleep. I don’t remember much after the whiskey and the sex.
I turn my head to see if he’s lying next to me. He is—but he’s awake.
Valerio is propped up on an elbow, watching me with a look that makes me feel like a specimen under a microscope. He looks genuinely disturbed. I know him enough by now to be sure it’s the fact he’s still in bed with me…and that he had sex for the first time.
“You’re still here,” he says.
“I am.”
“I don’t…” He touches my shoulder with one bare finger. He stares at the point of contact as if he expects my skin to melt. “I don’t understand why.”
I sigh. I don’t feel like being a therapist today. I don’t want to treat him like a patient and analyze him right after what we shared. I just want him to try to be happy without having to dissect and question it.
“Let’s just be people,” I whisper, sitting up. “No doctor or therapy. Just a normal day. Can we do that?”
He tracks the movement of my throat when I swallow. “A normal day.”
