Commanding.
Then his mouth was on me.
Slow at first—lips parting me, tongue tracing the seam in one long, languid stroke.
I cried out—sharp, surprised.
My hands flew to his hair, fingers tangling in dark strands.
He groaned against me at the pull.
The vibration sent another shockwave through my body.
He licked again—deeper this time.
Circled my clit with the flat of his tongue.
Sucked gently.
Then harder.
My back bowed off the mattress.
A sob tore from my throat.
He didn’t stop.
One hand slid up to pin my hip when I tried to writhe away from the intensity.
The other pushed two fingers inside me—slow, careful, stretching me open while his mouth worked relentless circles.
The stretch burned for a second—then melted into something hotter, wetter, better.
I was dripping.
I could hear it—obscene, slick sounds every time his fingers thrust.
Could feel it coating his hand, my thighs, the sheets.
He curled his fingers.
Then he found it — that perfect spot.
The moment he stroked it, stars exploded behind my eyelids.
Pleasure surged through me like liquid fire, building higher and higher with every thrust of his fingers.
My hips bucked wildly against his hand as I hurtled toward the edge.
“Oh my God — Vincenzo!” I screamed, my voice breaking. “Yes! Fuck — right there!”
I came hard—sudden, shattering—thighs clamping around his head, back arching, a broken cry ripping from my throat.
He didn’t stop until the aftershocks faded.
When he finally lifted his head his lips were glistening.
Eyes black with hunger.
