I part her thighs, trailing kisses down her stomach. Her skin is warm under my lips. She shifts beneath me, half-asleep, but her body knows what's coming. When my mouth finally finds her clit, her back arches slightly off the bed.
"Alessandro..." My name falls from her lips, though her eyes remain closed.
I take my time exploring her with my tongue, savoring her taste, the way her thighs tremble against my shoulders. Her quiet moans fill the room as I work her body.
There's something intoxicating about drawing pleasure from her semi-conscious body. Does she think she’s dreaming? Or is she just surrendering again?
When I slip two fingers inside her, she's slick and ready, her inner muscles clenching around me. I curl my fingers upward, finding that spot that makes her gasp, and increase the pressure of my tongue against her clit.
Her orgasm hits, an intense wave that has her crying out, her body shuddering. The taste of her pussy juices is divine, and I keep feasting, prolonging her pleasure until she's trembling.
Her eyes fly open. Her gaze locks with mine as I continue to work her through the aftershocks, my face still between her thighs.
"Don't stop," she moans.
I rise above her, positioning myself at her entrance. Her eyes never leave mine as I push inside her in one long, slow thrust. The sensation is overwhelming, tight, wet heat enveloping me completely.
"Fuck." I drop my forehead to hers. “So fucking good.”
Her legs wrap around my waist, pulling me deeper, and I let go of what little control I have left. I take her hard and fast, driven by a wild, uncontrollable need.
“Yes,” she chants each time I plunge into her.
It drives me wild. I can't get enough. Not deep enough. Not fast enough.
I know I should slow down. Be more careful. Her body must be sore after last night.
But she grips my hips, moves with me, and I’m powerless to do anything but chase release.
"Tell me if I hurt you," I manage to say.
"You won't,” she says, lifting her hips to meet mine.
Emboldened, I hook my arm under one of her knees, changing the angle, driving deeper.
Her gasp tells me I've found the sweet spot inside her. I focus there, watching her face as pleasure overtakes her, the way her lips part, the flush spreading across her cheeks.
"Alessandro," she sighs, and something about the way she says my name undoes me. This isn’t like the frenetic claiming of last night. This is intense, but deeper. Dangerous. The connection feels too intimate, too real.
I want to look away, to break the spell. But I can't.
Her fingers thread through my hair, pulling me down until our foreheads touch.
Her body tightens around mine, pulling me deeper into her, pulling me over the edge, sending me into a haze of bliss. I pump into her, wanting the sensations to last forever, never wanting to stop.
But eventually, exhaustion overtakes me, and I collapse over her. For a moment, we stay connected, my weight braced on my elbows. Without thinking, I press my lips to hers, not in passion, but in something deeper that terrifies me. Tenderness isa weakness. A weakness that I can’t show to the daughter of my enemy.
I’m bombarded with dual urges, one to hold her close and the other to run away. When my phone rings, relief slides through me. I have an excuse to disengage.
"Ignore it," Isabella murmurs, nestling closer to me.
But it’s Adriano’s ringtone, and nothing, not even a honeymoon or mind-blowing sex, can take precedence.
“I can’t.” I roll away from her, hating how it feels to lose her warmth against me.
I grab my phone from the nightstand. "This had better be important."
Isabella watches me from the bed, the sheet pulled loosely around her, her expression still one of satisfaction. The sight of her makes it hard to focus on Adriano's voice.
