“Rava ragazza,” he praises as he adds a second finger. The pressure, the slight stretch, is intense but not painful. His thumb finds the bundle of nerves at my clit, circling in time with the gentle thrust of his fingers.
Instantly, I’m lost. Completely overwhelmed by sensation. My hands are straining against the tie, wanting to touch him, dig my nails into his shoulders. The restraint doesn’t give; his knot impervious to my desire for release.
“That’s it, tesoro. Let go. Come for me.”
He’s relentless, picking up the pace of his thrusts until I’m panting. The pleasure builds until I shatter, crying out his name, my body clenching around his fingers. Working me through it, gently now, easing me down from the high.
When I can breathe again, I find him watching me with such heat and desire in his eyes that I nearly go over the edge all over again.
“That was —” I don’t have the right words.
He kisses me softly. “But we’re not done yet. That was just to take the edge off and make this next part more pleasurable for you, tesoro.”
I feel my eyes widen as I focus on him. He grinds against me, and I can feel he’s hard and ready. Even through his pants, I can feel the size of him. A nervous look must have crossed my face because he cups my chin. “I’ll go slow. And if it’s too much, just say red.”
I nod.
“Rava ragazza.”
The praise peaks my desire. I watch as he leans back, undoes his belt, then unzips his pants, and I feel him hot and hard against me when he frees himself.
“Color?” He asks.
“Green,” I murmur, breathlessly, excitement building with each passing second.
He smiles, a sexy, irresistible smile that makes me melt against him as he leans down and devours my mouth once more. One hand slides beneath my back to hold me while the other works at my entrance. Then, slowly — so slowly — he pushes into me.
There’s pressure, stretching, then a slight burning sensation that makes me tense.
“Breath, tesoro. I’ve got you,” he murmurs against my lips, using the union of our mouths to distract me.
I force myself to breathe. I trust him, his experience, his motives. He inches deeper, and the burn intensifies, but his thumb finds that sweet spot again, circling, creating pleasure to balance the discomfort.
“That’s it,” he encourages. “Rava ragazza.”
Another inch. Another. And then —
“There, tesero.” His voice is tense, controlled, but just barely. “I knew you’d be able to take it all. Such a rava ragazza.”
The feeling of him fully inside me is overwhelming. Full. Stretched. But oh so right.
“Color?” His voice is low, strained with effort.
“Green,” I manage, anxious.
He moves slowly at first, letting me adjust. Each thrust fills me more than I ever knew possible. The feelings, the sensations of this ultimate union between our bodies invokes tears in my eyes. But not the bad kind.
The discomfort fades, replaced by a warmth that builds within.
“More, Basili,” I beg, arching against him. “Please, harder, more, I need —”
He doesn’t need any more encouragement. One hand moves to my hip, careful of my injury, as he picks up the pace. He’s thrusting harder, pulling out further, and going deeper with each stroke. Hitting something deep inside me that makes me see stars.
“That’s it. Take it. All of it. Use me to take what you need, tesoro.”
The combination of his voice, the words, his hands, his lips, and his cock inside me — it’s too much and not enough all at once. I come apart again, even harder than before, clenching around his length as pleasure crashes through my body.
He follows me over the edge moments later, groaning my name as his body shutters, filling me.
