The move feels shockingly familiar—until I realize it’s exactly like I dreamed the other night.
Anticipation slams through my veins.
If he’s anything like the man in my dreams, I’m confident that I want this. I want him.
Who cares if we’re moving fast?
I’ve been celibate for eight long years, and if this is the only time I get a taste of what it feels like to be with a man, I’m not about to pass it up.
Gio’s arms are strong and sure as they carry me across the room.
Then he’s tilting me back onto the mattress, his movements tender and careful—like he thinks he might break me.
My clit throbs as his weight settles on top of me, his forearms framing my shoulders to avoid crushing me as he leans in to seal our lips once more.
Fingers tangling in his thick, dark locks, I arch into him, savoring the groan that rumbles from his chest as I grind against his swollen erection.
“God, you’re perfect,” he rasps, his tongue delving into my mouth as he trails one hand from my throat, down the curve of my breast to palm it. “Sodamnsexy.”
The need in his voice intensifies my own exponentially, and I whimper as the pulsing ache between my thighs intensifies. “I want you,” I whisper, my heart skipping a beat as soon as the words leave my lips.
“I want yousobad,” he growls, his hips pressing forward to show me just how badly he wants me.
My breaths quicken, my pulse roaring in my ears as the words slip past my lips before I know I’m going to say them out loud. “Fuck me,” I moan, the plea almost whiny I’m filled with such agonizing need.
Gio tenses, his hand pausing, though he doesn’t take it from my breast as he pulls back just enough to meet my eyes. “Do you mean that?” he rasps huskily.
Biting my lip as a wave of shyness sweeps over me, I nod.
I’ve never been so forward with a man, but I feel safe with Gio.
Maybe it’s because I can’t stop dreaming about him.
Or maybe there’s just something about him that feels right.
But I’ve never felt like this about someone before.
And I don’t want to hold back just because I’m frightened that if I put myself out there, it will only end in my heart being broken.
“Christ,” Gio breathes, his lips crushing down on mine with renewed vigor, and his wandering hands find new purpose as he reaches beneath me for the zipper of my dress.
I lift off the bed, trying to make it easier for him, and he rolls, sitting up so I’m straddling him once more. Our kiss never breaks as he drags the zipper of my dress slowly down my back, and I shiver as cool air washes across my skin.
Then his fingers curl around the hem of my dress, and in one fluid move, he strips it off me like he’s done it a hundred times before.
The sudden exposure makes my nipples pucker against the fabric of my T-shirt bra, and I’m suddenly intensely aware of how entirely mediocre my undergarments are because I was notanticipating anything like this happening tonight when I got dressed this morning.
Gio pauses, his eyes sweeping down my body with a look that should make me feel self-conscious, but instead lights my soul on fire.
Then he wraps one arm around my waist, lifting me slightly and curling a finger around the top of one bra cup so he can bring my nipple into his mouth.
My core clenches, my breaths coming faster as a jolt of pleasure lances through me at the scintillating warmth of his lips wrapped around my pebbled flesh, his tongue swirling around it.
He reaches around me, and I feel my bra go slack as he unhooks it with one hand.
Then we’re shifting again as he turns to lay me on my back once more.
My breasts heave with each ragged breath as he strips me of my bra, his lips never pausing as he lavishes my skin with attention—first one nipple, then the other, before he draws a slow path down the center of my body to my navel.
