"Elsa," he whispers. "Are you okay? I mean, I wasn't intending on..." He gestures vaguely at my face. "Coming on you like that. That got away from me."
The apology is so earnest, so genuinely concerned, that my heart does a funny little flip-flop. This man, who moments ago was a commanding god of sex, is now worried he's offended me.
I can't help the laugh that bubbles out of me, but it ends on a hitch—almost a sob.
"Antonio," I say, my voice soft. I reach up and run my fingers through his wet hair. "I'm more than okay." I smile. "I'm perfect. That was... perfect." I'm breathless, and I'm not sure if it's from the sex or the emotion, but it's heady and intense.
He looks at me for a long moment, as if he's trying to see into my soul, and then a slow, brilliant smile spreads across his face. The relief I see there is tangible.
"You are perfect," he agrees, then, "I'm going to make you come now."
My heart stutters at the words. It seems so simple, like a gentle, caring act after such raw, aggressive passion. A shift in the dynamic that feels as natural as breathing.
He rises, pulling me up with him, and presses my back against the warm, tiled wall. He kisses me again, deep and possessive, and then he's trailing kisses down my throat, over my collarbone, down to my breasts.
He takes a nipple in his mouth, and I gasp, my back arching, pushing my breast deeper into his hot, wet mouth. His tongue swirls around the sensitive peak, and I feel a jolt of pure pleasure shoot straight to my pussy.
He pays the same loving attention to my other breast, and then he's on his knees in front of me, looking up at me with those dark, intense eyes.
"Antonio," I whisper, my hands tangling in his hair. "You don't have to. I'm okay."
He doesn't even give me a chance to finish.
"I want to," he says, his voice a low, possessive growl. "I need to."
I'm a trembling, wanting mess.
And then he licks me.
One long, slow stroke from my entrance to my clit.
I cry out, my hips bucking, and he holds me steady, his hands firm on my thighs, as he does it again. And again. Lickingme with a focused intensity that has me spiraling toward the edge of a cliff.
"More," I gasp, my head falling back against the wall. "Please, Antonio. More."
He responds by sucking my clit into his mouth, and my vision goes blurry. He devours me, his tongue and lips and teeth working in perfect concert to drive me wild. He licks, he sucks, he nibbles, and I am lost.
I can feel the pressure building, a coiling heat in my stomach that threatens to consume me. My legs start to tremble, and I can feel the orgasm building, a tidal wave of pleasure that's about to crash over me.
"Don't stop," I pant, my fingers tightening in his hair. "Please don't stop."
He doesn't. He doubles down, his movements becoming more insistent, more demanding, and then he slides two fingers inside me, curling them to find that magical spot.
And that's it.
I explode.
A scream rips from my throat as the orgasm tears through me, a violent, beautiful storm that leaves me gasping and shaking. He doesn't stop, though. He works me through it, drawing out my pleasure until I'm a quivering, sobbing mess.
When it's finally over, he rises, and I slump against him, my body boneless, my legs barelyable to hold me up.
He wraps his arms around me, holding me close, and I bury my face in his chest, my body still trembling with the aftershocks.
"You okay?" he murmurs, his lips brushing against my hair. I feel his hard cock brush my hip.
I cup his cheeks and bring his lips to mine for a deep, languid kiss. "I need you inside me. Make us one again."
He groans into my mouth, and with a desperate urgency, he lifts me, pressing me back against the tile in a display of effortless strength that makes my head spin
