I lick my lips, and his cock twitches.
He tightens his grip on my hair, and my mouth opens wider.
"That's right," he breathes. "Sei la mia brava ragazza, no?"
I have no idea what he said but I recognize two words.
Good girl.
"Yes," I moan.
The head of his cock touches my tongue, and I whimper.
The taste of him fills my mouth, so deliciously male, and I can't resist the moan that spills out, vibrating against the sensitive skin sliding along my tongue.
He pushes farther, and I wrap my lips around him.
"Cazzo."
His eyes are on mine, intense, burning.
"Succhia," he grits out.
I don't need a translation for this one
I take the base of his cock in my hand, then I do exactly what he said.
I suck him deep into my mouth, my tongue working against him, my cheeks hollowed, and he swears in Italian again.
His fingers are still twisted in my hair, holding me in place.
He presses his other palm to the window, and for the first time, I realize we're still in front of it.
He's fully clothed, but his cock is jutting out of his pants, hard and glistening.
Buried in my mouth.
And I am on my knees naked, shamelessly sucking him off, and loving every minute of it.
My pussy clenches.
"Cazzo, così," he growls. "Just like that. On your knees. With my cock in your mouth."
His hips thrust forward.
The tip hits the back of my throat, and I gag a little.
"You like that, huh?" he says, his voice rough and harsh.
He pulls back, just an inch, and then pushes back in.
I relax my throat, and I can feel the approval radiating from him.
Chapter Eighteen
Mario
Her mouth is perfect.
