“Do you like sex?”
“I guess.”
“Hm,” he muses. “You guess. Okay, I can work with that.”
He shifts just a little, making an ‘mph’ noise.
“Do you like being fucked with fingers?”
I suck in a small breath. “I, um… I don’t think I’ve ever been fucked with fingers.”
I’m supposing this is foreplay he’s talking about. Gerard never did much of that.
Augusto doesn’t react, just hums to himself, like he’s taking notes for a medical assessment.
“Okay. Has anyone ever licked your pussy?”
My face must be so red a bull would run across Spain to reach it. Thank God for the comforter. I squeak and shake my head again.
“Right,” he murmurs. “So, I’m guessing if you haven’t had your pussy licked, you probably haven’t had your clit sucked?”
He must berevelingin my discomfort because why is he taunting me like this when he could just be pounding into me missionary style? Surely, that’s what the guy wants at the end of the day, just to get his rocks off via the path of least resistance?
“No,” I grumble.
He buries his face into my neck again and I detect a smile on his lips.
“I’m so embarrassed,” I mutter.
“Don’t be,” he says, all throaty again. “You’ve just given me the best gift you possibly could. I get to be your first for all those things.”
My body goes rigid beneath him.
“I’m going to make you fucking weep, Erin. After tonight, you’re not just going to be mine, you’re going to forget what your body felt like before I came along.”
His weight lifts suddenly, and I draw in a long breath, then he rolls me onto my back, straddling me again. “I’ll try and take it slow, baby, but I can’t make any promises.”
The tone he uses sends a thrill down my body where it settles and hums between my legs. Then he lifts my shirt, tugs it over my head and arms, then rears back to stare at me.
My breasts flop to the sides because I didn’t have the sense to wear a bra to bed, but he doesn’t seem to care. He cups both in his enormous hands, making them look smaller than they feel, gently massaging his thumbs into the flesh. The look of concentration on his face is enough to make me orgasm. I can’t take my eyes off him.
Without tearing my gaze down to see, I know my nipples are as hard as diamonds, reaching for him like flowers seeking the sun.
He leans forward and whispers something in Italian to my right breast. I don’t understand it but my nipple flutters in response. Then he closes soft, warm lips over it and sucks it into his mouth with a moan.
And holy Mother of Jesus. My back arches, swooning at each swipe of his tongue. I can’t see what’s going on inside his mouth, what his tongue and my nipple are up to in there, but it feels so incredible the tops of my thighs are wet.
Acting on pure instinct, I push my fingers through his thick salt and pepper hair as he sucks and scrapes the soft skin of my breast hypnotically.
“Oh God, Augusto, your tongue…”
He loosens his grip on my nipple, stretching it gently between his teeth before letting it pop from his mouth, softened with pleasure. His gaze coasts to mine and there’s a heat in them that feels dangerous, otherworldly.
“Your tits were made for sucking, Erin. It’s a travesty they haven’t been wrecked before by someone’s teeth.”
My mouth falls open and words don’t come. He lowers to my left breast which feels more taut now, swollen and aching for attention. It practically sighs when he takes it into his mouth.
I squirm beneath him, restless for something but unsure what. His mouth? His fingers? His dick? Honestly, at this point, I’ll take anything.
