To him. To this moment. To us.
His mouth is firm and commanding against mine. His stubble is rough against my cheeks. And the friction between us is the most delicious thing I’ve ever experienced.
I lean into it.
His cock is rock hard against my belly now, making promises of everything to come.
He pulls away for a moment. His eyes remain locked on mine as he shrugs off his suit jacket and spreads it across the carpet. Then he gently lowers me onto it.
He's looking at me like I'm someone he's afraid to lose.
I suck in a breath when he settles himself between my spread thighs. His swollen length drags against my pussy. It's so big that I wonder once again how he's going to make it fit inside me.
He reaches between us and rips my panties.
My eyes widen.
"Dante, that wasLa Perla," I say.
"I don't care what brand it is," he says. "You've turned me into an impatient man,bella. I don't want anything coming between me and this sweet pussy ever again.”
His hand cups my pussy so possessively that I see stars. His calloused fingers move up and down my slit.
"I don't want you wearing panties anymore," he says. "I need to know that this pussy is ready for the taking anytime I please. Is that understood?"
I blink up at him. "Yes."
He replaces his hand with his cock. I'm soaking wet and ready for him, but he doesn't push inside me yet. Instead, he rocks on top of me, rubbing his shaft up and down my slit.
Every time he brushes against my clit, he ignites a bundle of nerves that makes me want to implode.
"My pretty wife," he praises. "My dirty slut. You look so fucking good underneath me.”
He threads his fingers into my hair. His mouth comes crashing down over mine. He kisses me so hard that it makes my toes curl. His hand cups one of my breasts.
"You're built like a goddess, Grace," he says. “You drive me to the brink of insanity every time I look at you.”
I feel wanted under him.
I feel seen.
Everything he says and does rewrites the narrative in my head. Every second I spend with him erases my mother's voice from my memory.
His mouth trails kisses down my neck. His hands are strong as they hold my waist.
I stare up at the painting on the ceiling. It's a riot of colors that makes this moment feel all the more magical.
My back arches when his lips close around my nipple.
"Dante," I moan.
"You taste like tart cherries," he says. "It's no wonder I have to drag you to secret spots just to get my fill of you."
He moves to my other nipple, sucking on it until they're both hard peaks for him. He moves down my belly, giving me love bites all the way down to my pussy.
As I stare down at him, I think about how different life used to be.
My mother once put me on a diet of almonds and cucumbers for a month while I was going through puberty. She took it as a personal offense that one of her daughters looked nothing like her. I was starved and ridiculed and taught to hate my body.
