He lets out another harsh breath. “You sound so pretty when you lie.”
“I’m not lying.” I gasp, my head falling back, and his mouth follows, trailing burning heat down my throat as his fingers move up, toward where I so desperately want them. “I’ve… made myself come before. But I’ve never let anyone…” I gasp as his fingers graze my clit, and I clench my teeth against a moan.
“And what do you think about when you come,uccellino?” His voice is a purr, the Italian dripping from his lips and making me whimper all over again.
“I…” I can barely think already. “Nothing. I just… feel. I don’t know what to think about… or… who. I just…”
He’s touching me more firmly now, more sure of himself, as if knowing that he’s the first has given him confidence. He finds a rhythm, his fingers moving in slow circles that make my knees weak. I clutch at his shoulders, trying to stay upright, trying to breathe through the overwhelming sensation.
"That's it," he murmurs. "Let go. Let me make youfeel."
I've never felt anything like this. My own fingers, my own clumsy fumblings, can’t compare. His mouth on my throat, my collarbone, his hand moving between my legs, it’s all building toward something that should be somewhat familiar, but instead feels farmorethan anything I’ve ever experienced before.
"Romeo—" I don't know what I'm asking for, but he seems to understand.
"I know. I've got you." His voice is breathless, as if he’s taking the same pleasure from touching me that he’s giving, and I can’t imagine how that could be. I’m not touching him in any way except the clinging grip I have on his shoulders, but he sounds as if he’s on the verge of coming undone, too.
His fingers move faster, and there's pressure building inside me, intense and overwhelming and slightly frightening. I'm making sounds I've never made before, my head fallen back against the books, my hips arching rhythmically into his touch as I forget to be embarrassed, and chase only pleasure.
"Let go," he murmurs again, his voice a pleading groan in my ear. "I want to feel you come apart."
And then I do.
The orgasm hits me like the lightning outside, white-hot and all-consuming. I cry out, and Romeo's mouth covers mine, swallowing the sound. My whole body is shaking, waves of pleasure rolling through me, and he's holding me through it, his fingers still moving, drawing it out until I'm boneless andgasping. When I finally come back to myself, I'm clinging to him, my face buried in his neck, my legs barely holding me up. I’m still shaking, his hand cupping me between my thighs, and I never want him to stop.
He pulls his hand slowly from beneath my skirt and lifts it to his lips. Lightning flashes again just in time for me to see his tongue flick out, licking away the glistening evidence of my arousal from his fingers, another low groan spilling from his mouth.
“God, you taste so good,” he groans. “I want…fuck… I want to taste you.Christ.”
His hand drops, and before I can move or think, it’s beneath my skirt again, his fingers working their way between my thighs once more. “Not yet,” he breathes. “But I need to make you come again. I need to feel it again…fuck, Savannah, you’re like a fucking drug…”
He's still hard against me, where he’s pressed against the side of my hip, and I realize with a shock that we could keep going. That he could—that we could?—
The thought is both terrifying and thrilling in equal measure.
"I can't—it's too much—" I whisper, as his fingers glide over my clit again. “Romeo—” I nearly whine his name, and I hear him gasp, feel him shudder next to me as his fingers start to work faster.
"You can. Trust me. I need another one from you,uccellino. Please…”
He’sbeggingmeto lethimmakemecome. I feel like I’ve slipped into some alternate dimension, some reality that I didn’t know was possible. And I can’t bring myself to tell him to stop, because it already feels so good, and…
He's right. Within minutes, I'm climbing again, that pressure building faster this time. His other hand is in my hair, holdingme steady, and he's murmuring things in my ear—how beautiful I am, how perfect, how much he wants me.
"Romeo—" I'm close, so close. "I need?—"
"What do you need? Tell me." He groans. “Please come for me, Savannah. I want it all over my hand. Please…”
"More. I need more."
His fingers glide down, hovering at my entrance, and for a moment, I think he’s going to push them inside of me. “God,” he groans, his fingers circling there, making my hips buck in frustration as I feel the orgasm plateau. "So perfect. I want—God, Savannah, I want to be inside you so badly."
The words should shock me. They should bring me back to reality, remind me that I'm engaged, that this is wrong, that I'm a virgin saving herself for marriage.
But instead, they make me feel even more desperate.
“Yes,” I hear myself breathe, as if I’m listening from outside my own body. “Yes… please… Romeo…” I’m so close. He’s so hard against me, and I feel lost, drowning in a sea of unfamiliar desire. Iwantmore than I ever have before, and something tells me if we stop now, this might never happen again.
He goes very still, his hand still between my thighs. "Savannah?—"
