That undoes me more than anything he did last night. I look away so I don’t get weepy over eggs. He gives me the dignity of the sidelong view.
“I don’t have clothes,” I say, because practical problems are safe.
“I have a robe,” he says. “T-shirts, sweaters. Whatever you need to get you through the day.”
I’m quiet for a long moment while his hands glide over me. I can’t help that he’s working me up again, despite everything. The flutters in my stomach nearly make me moan as his hands knead my thighs again.
“I should hate how efficient you are.” I can only manage a breathy murmur.
“You don’t,” he says, and he’s right.
Hishands work their way farther down, kneading and caressing my calves. When he is done, he presses one last kiss to the back of my thigh, making me shiver. His hands drift up the sides of my legs and over my back, skimming my ass and lower back, making my body feel like liquid. A soft sound escapes me.
My brain feels slow, syrupy with ease. He has successfully dismantled every line of defense I have.
His hands continue their journey, sliding between my lax thighs. I’m too blissed out to be embarrassed about how wet I am, how much I want him. His fingers find my clit, and my body jerks. He chuckles lightly. “Sensitive?” he asks.
I nod, my face pressed into the pillow.
“Let me,” he whispers. “Let me make it better.”
He doesn’t give me much of a chance to say no, not that I want to. He keeps circling my clit with one finger, slowly and gently. He’s not trying to make me come quickly. He’s building the pleasure slowly, until I’m pushing my hips back into his hand, wanting more. He takes his other hand and uses it to spread me, making me even more vulnerable to him. He adds a second finger, tracing the rim of my entrance, teasing me.
“Roberto,” I say, a broken moan.
“Tell me what you want,” he says, his voice low. “Tell me.”
“You,” I say. “Iwant you.”
He slowly pushes a finger into me, and my body clenches around it, trying to pull it deeper. He chuckles again, a low, deep rumble that vibrates through my body. He slides a second finger in, and my hips buck. He curls his fingers, stroking the sensitive spot inside me, and my body lights up with pleasure.
I’m so close, but he won’t let me fall. He’s keeping me right there, suspended in pleasure, and it’s both torture and the most exquisite thing I have ever felt. I’m trying to push back against him, to get him to go faster, harder, but he’s holding me still, in complete control of my body. I whine, a pathetic little sound that I’m almost embarrassed by.
“Patience,” he says softly.
I want to be mad, but I can’t. I’m too busy floating on a sea of pleasure. He keeps stroking me, a slow, steady rhythm, until I’m trembling, my whole body a bowstring of tension.
His fingers slide out of me, but before I can complain, I feel him shift behind me, and then the blunt head of his cock presses against my entrance. Automatically, I arch my back, offering myself to him.
He pushes in, slowly, filling me inch by inch. When he’s all the way in, he pauses, giving me a chance to adjust to him. I’m so full, so complete. I feel whole.
When he’s fully seated inside me, he leans over my back, pressing a kiss between my shoulder blades. “Okay?” he asks.
I nod, unable to form words. I can’t remember a time I felt so full, so complete. He starts to move, a slow, deep rhythmthat has me seeing stars. He reaches around and starts circling my clit again, and I cry out. He’s everywhere. He’s inside me, around me, his scent in my nose, his deep voice in my ear. My world has narrowed to just this, just him.
“Relax for me,” he says. “Let me take care of you.”
I take a deep breath and force my body to go lax against the sheets.
His rhythm doesn't change, but it feels different. Each stroke is a wave, pulling me under before lifting me up, only to pull me under again. The steady pressure on my clit is a constant current, drawing the pleasure from every part of my body to one single, pulsing point. I’m no longer trying to meet his movements. I’m just accepting them, accepting him.
The knot in my belly begins to tighten, a slow, deep throb of pressure. It’s different from last night. That was a flash fire. This is a slow burn. He’s taking me somewhere new, a place I haven’t been before. A place I didn't know existed. I can feel the pleasure coiling in my belly, hot and tight. My breaths are coming in short, sharp pants.
“Roberto,” I gasp out. “I’m—”
“I’m right here,” he says, his voice soothing. “I’ve got you.”
His words are my undoing. The knot in my belly snaps, and pleasure, hot and intense, floods my body. It’s a slow, rolling wave that starts at my toes and crests over my head. My back arches, and a choked sob escapes my lips. He doesn’t stop, his hips still moving in that same steady rhythm, drawing out my pleasure until I’m a boneless, quivering mess.
