The dress falls away from my frame. I’m left standing in front of him in only a small pair of white panties.
“Turn around.” His voice is rough and gravelly.
I follow his order, turning to face him, hands now covering my breasts.
He shakes his head. “Lower your hands.”
I do.
My nipples pebble instantly.
His gaze meets mine, and he breaks eye contact to look at me.
Down my face, over my collarbone, and then it drifts down farther.
“You’re perfect.” He moves closer, hands reaching out, trailing across by jaw, down my neck, until his palms cup my breasts. “So perfect.”
I feel needy, my body tingling with built-up tension.
“I need you,” I admit, making his eyes darken.
“Where do you need me?”
I lick my lips. “Everywhere.”
Lorenzo nods, drops his hands, and strips off his own clothes. Then he takes my hand in his and helps me down to the ground and lies beside me.
Only a second passes before we’re crashing back together.
Kissing.
Biting.
Claiming each other with our mouths.
His hands roam all over me.
Fingers caressing. Touching. When his hands find my breasts again, he pulls and teases my nipples.
It’s like there is a line that runs straight down to my core. I squirm against him, and he must notice because his hands leave my breasts and trail lower.
“Is this what you need?” His hands part my thighs. Then I feel him, one finger finding my clit.
I’m hot and wet. And desperate for more.
He gives me what I want.
Rubbing furiously until I’m lifting my hips and begging for more.
“Touch me,” he rasps. I reach my hand out and grip his hardness at the base. Tugging upward, I draw a groan from him. “Fuck. That feels so good. I need to fuck you.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?” he asks, and I nod. “You’re going to let me fuck you?”
I nod again, and he shakes his head. “I need words, Victoria.”
“Please fuck me.”
