I’m so close. I can feel it building, a coil of heat in my stomach, winding tighter and tighter. His fingers dig into my hips, holding me in place, and I finally give in and lie all the way down, feeling the cold counter press against my back.
“Don’t stop,” I gasp. “Please, don’t stop.”
He doesn’t. He speeds up, his tongue flicking against my clit faster and faster, until I’m crying out his name, my body convulsing around him, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over me. I can’t seem to open my legs wide enough.
He licks me through it, drawing it out, until I’m a limp, boneless mess on the counter.
He lifts his head and looks at me, a triumphant glint in his eyes. His chin is slick with my arousal, and he licks his lips.
“Delicious,” he says, his voice rough. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and the sight is so raw and so primal it sends another jolt of pleasure through me.
He moves to stand, then pulls me to sit up. He wraps my legs around his waist, and I feel his hard cock press against me through his sweats.
“Up,” he says, and I wrap my arms around his neck as he lifts me off the counter.
I’m still shaky from my orgasm, and I cling to him as he walks us out of the kitchen. The short distance from the kitchen to the living room feels like it takes an eternity.
He sets me down next to the couch, then turns me around to face it.
“Bend over,” he commands, then simply pushes me over the arm of the couch until my ass is in the air. The position is exposed. Vulnerable. I can feel cool air on my wet pussy.
He moves behind me, and I feel the hard press of his cock against me. He’s still wearing his sweats, and I ache to feel him skin-to-skin.
“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve thought about this the last couple weeks?” he says, his voice a low growl. You bent over and taking my cock.”
I shiver, and I press back against him, a silent plea for more.
He pushes my upper body down so I’m flush against the couch cushions, then he steps back. I hear the soft rustle of fabric hitting the floor, and my heart pounds in anticipation.
Chapter Twenty Nine
Antonio
Her ass is perfect. High and tight. A perfect handful.
I run a hand over it, and she shivers. I can see how wet she is, glistening in the dim light of the room. I run a finger through her folds, and she arches her back, a soft moan escaping her lips.
I’m so hard it hurts. It seems like I've been hard for weeks. And now she’s here, bent over the couch, her body flushed from the orgasm I gave her with my mouth, and she’s all mine.
I lean down and take another quick taste of her, just to hear her make that sound again. I’m not disappointed. She moans, her hips bucking back against me.
“Please,” she whispers, her voice muffled by the couch cushions. “Antonio.”
"Mmmm," I say against her skin. "So fucking good."
I grip my cock, stroking it slowly, spreading the pre-come over the head and position myself at her entrance, the headof my cock just teasing her opening. She’s so wet, so ready for me.
I press forward, just an inch, and she whimpers. She’s so tight. So fucking tight.
I don’t push in. Not yet. I want to savor this. Savor the moment I finally get to be inside her again.
I run a hand down her spine, then back up to her hair. I fist a handful and pull, just enough to make her back arch, her head tilting back.
The perfect angle.
"Antonio," she gasps, and the sound of my name on her lips is my undoing.
I push forward, sliding into her in one smooth, hard stroke.
