She's so tight. So wet. So perfect.
It’s taking every ounce of self-control I have not to lose it right here and now.
She feels better than I ever could have imagined. Better than I have any right to.
Her hands are on my back, her nails digging into my skin. Her head is thrown back, her neck a long, pale line I want to bite. Again.
She's so beautiful. So open.
So mine.
The thought is a jolt, a sudden, possessive rush that I'm not prepared for.
I am a man who likes control. Who thrives on it. Who needs it.
But with her, I feelcompletely out of control.
And I like it.
I pull out, almost all the way, then push back in, a slow, deep stroke that makes her gasp.
I do it again, and again, setting a slow, deliberate rhythm, getting her used to the feel of me.
I want to rush and take, take, take.
I want to draw this out. I want to make it last forever.
Her hips rise to meet me, her body instinctively finding the rhythm. She’s moving with me, her legs wrapping around my waist, pulling me deeper.
I lower my head and kiss her, a deep, possessive kiss that’s all tongue and teeth. I’m claiming her. Marking her.
She kisses me back just as fiercely, her hands in my hair, holding me to her.
I can feel her body tightening, another orgasm building, a slow, steady climb.
I want to feel it. I want to feel her come around my cock.
I reach between us, my thumb finding her clit. She cries out, her body arching, her inner muscles clenching around me.
"That's it," I growl against her ear. "Come for me."
"Faster," she gasps. "Please, Roberto, faster, harder."
My name on her lips is my undoing.
I can't deny her anything.
I drive into her, harder, faster, my thumb circling her clit in a relentless rhythm.
She shatters, a broken cry tearing from her throat. Her body convulses, her pussy clamping down on me, a milking, sucking pressure. I grit my teeth and hold fast, not wanting it to be over so quickly.
I thrust through her orgasm, drawing it out, until she’s a sobbing, trembling mess beneath me.
When she finally goes limp, her body a pliant, satisfied weight, I slow my pace, returning to the long, deep strokes from before.
I kiss her, a soft, gentle kiss that’s a stark contrast to the almost brutal way I was just fucking her.
She’s boneless beneath me, her limbs heavy, her body a soft, welcoming weight.
