The command, softly spoken, shattered his last shred of resistance. With a low growl, Rodrigo nodded. This woman would kill him, just not in the way he always thought.
"Kneel," he rasped out.
A spark of triumph flared in Giana's eyes as she obeyed, sinking gracefully to her knees on the thick rug between his spread legs.
The position was inherently submissive, yet the expression on her face was anything but. She looked up at him, her dark eyes wide and luminous, waiting.
"God, maybe you should use a gun to kill me instead," Rodrigo whispered, running a thumb over her cheek.
"Where's the fun in that?" she replied.
Rodrigo chuckled softly. "Mio Dio, start slow. Use your hands first."
Giana nodded, her gaze never leaving his. Her hands, cool and sure, rose to the fastening of his belt and pants. Her fingers undid the button, then slid the zipper down.
She pushed the dark fabric aside, then reached into the opening of his boxer briefs. Her fingers brushed against the hot, hard length of him, and Rodrigo couldn't suppress a sharp intake of breath, his hips jerking involuntarily.
Giana wrapped her hand around him, her grip firm but not tight, her skin cool against his burning heat. She began to stroke him slowly, her gaze fixed on his face, watching his reactions. Her touch was tentative at first, learning the weight and thickness of him, the silken skin over hard flesh.
She explored the sensitive head with her thumb, circling the slit where a bead of moisture had already gathered.
Rodrigo groaned, low and deep in his chest, his head falling back against the headrest, his eyes closing for a moment as pure sensation washed over him. Her touch was innocent yet devastatingly effective. Fuck he was going to blow before they barely started.
"Like this?" she asked softly, her breath warm against the fabric covering his thigh.
"Sì," he managed, the word a strangled gasp. "Just… just like that. Good."
Encouraged, Giana continued her exploration. She used both hands now, one stroking the length of his shaft, the othercupping his balls, rolling them gently in her palm. She leaned closer, her breath ghosting over the head of his cock.
Rodrigo forced his eyes open, needing to see her. Her expression was one of intense concentration, her lips slightly parted, her cheeks flushed. She looked like an artist studying a complex subject, utterly absorbed.
"Now?" she breathed, her dark eyes lifting to meet his, seeking permission, guidance.
Rodrigo nodded, unable to speak. He watched, mesmerized, as she dipped her head, her tongue flicking out tentatively. The first touch of her warm, wet tongue against the sensitive head was electric.
A ragged groan tore from Rodrigo's throat, his fingers digging into the leather armrests of his chair. "Fuck, Giana…"
She hummed softly in response, the vibration traveling straight through his cock to his spine. Emboldened, she opened her mouth wider, her lips closing around the swollen head. She sucked gently, experimentally, her tongue swirling over the sensitive ridge beneath the crown.
Rodrigo hissed, his hips lifting off the chair, pushing himself deeper into the warm haven of her mouth.
"Easy,bella," he rasped, fighting for control. His hand moved almost of its own volition, tangling in her ponytail, not pulling, just holding, grounding himself. "Don't try to take too much yet, just the head. Use your tongue. Like… like that."
Giana followed his whispered instructions and focused her attention on the engorged head, her lips forming a tight seal, her tongue dancing and swirling, lapping at the pre-cum beading there. Her free hand continued to stroke the base of his shaft, her touch firm and rhythmic. The hot, wet suction on the sensitive tip and the firm grip below were going to ruin him.
Tension coiled deep in his belly, the familiar pressure building. He watched her through hooded eyes, transfixed by thesight of her dark head bobbing slightly between his thighs, her lips stretched around him, her eyes closed in concentration. It was the most erotic thing he had ever witnessed.
He guided her gently, his voice thick with desire. "A little deeper now, slowly… yes… use your hand to keep stroking… God, your mouth…"
His fingers tightened slightly in her hair, not forcing, just guiding the rhythm, feeling the pull of her lips, the slide of her tongue. The wet, sucking sounds filled the quiet office, mingling with his ragged breaths and her soft, focused hums.
Giana took him deeper, inch by torturous inch, her mouth stretching to accommodate him. She relaxed her throat, allowing him to slide further in. Rodrigo groaned, a guttural sound of pure need.
The sight of her, the feel of her, the utter trust and surrender in her actions, even as she maintained control of the pace, was shattering him. He was hurtling toward the edge, the pressure building to an unbearable peak.
With a strength born of desperation, Rodrigo tightened his grip on her hair, firmly enough to still her movements.
"Stop," he gasped, the word raw. "Stop,amore."
