When she comes down, I pull my fingers free. Bring them to my mouth. Suck them clean while she watches, pupils blown wide.
“You taste like mine,” I tell her. “Every part of you.”
“Then prove it.”
I position myself between her thighs. Hook her legs over my shoulders, folding her nearly in half. Rub the head of my cock through her folds, coating myself in her wetness, nudging her clit with every pass.
“Please—” She’s beyond pride now. Beyond defiance. “Please, Elio?—”
I push in. Slow at first. Inch by aching inch. Feeling her stretch around me, her walls gripping so tight I have to grit my teeth against the urge to slam home.
She gasps at the fullness. Her eyes going wide, mouth falling open.
“Okay?” I force the word out.
“Don’t—don’t stop?—”
I bottom out.
For a moment I don’t move. Can’t move. Just stay buried inside her, feeling her pulse around me, trying to remember how to breathe.
Home.
That’s how this feels. Like coming home. Like finding something I didn’t know I was looking for.
I start to move.
Deep thrusts that hit her cervix. Her nails rake down my back, leaving trails of fire. I control the pace. Slow and deep, then faster when she begs for more, then slow again when I feel her getting too close.
“Elio—please—I need?—”
“I know what you need,tesoro.”
Faster. Harder. The bed frame hitting the wall with every thrust. Her legs trembling on my shoulders, her voice breaking into wordless cries.
She comes. Walls pulsing around me, clenching so tight I nearly lose it myself. But I hold on. Keep fucking her through it, chasing my own edge while she shatters beneath me.
Three.
I pull out. Flip her onto my lap before she can catch her breath.
“Ride me.”
She stares down at me. Still trembling from her orgasm. But she braces her hands on my chest and sinks down onto my cock, and the new angle makes us both groan.
Her hips find a rhythm. Rising and falling, taking me deep. I grip her hips to guide her, one thumb returning to her clit.
Beautiful.
The word doesn’t cover it. She’s magnificent. Auburn hair wild around her shoulders. Breasts bouncing with every movement. Face contorted in pleasure, all masks stripped away.
She’s chosen this. Chosen me. And I have no idea what I did to deserve it.
“Elio—” Her rhythm stutters. “I can’t—I’m too?—”
“One more.” I sit up, change the angle, thrust up into her while my thumb works her oversensitive clit. “Give me one more.”
She whimpers. Shakes her head. But her hips keep moving, chasing the sensation even as she protests.
