"I can't," I gasp, shaking my head.
"You can. One more time. Come for me."
"No, Mario, I—"
"Do it. Now! Come, Victoria!"
His cock pumps into me again, and his fingers circle my clit, and his body presses against mine, and the orgasm slams into me, so hard and so fast, I almost black out.
"That's it," he groans. "Fuck, yes. That's what I wanted. Fuck, yes. Mia brava ragazza."
He rocks his hips, his cock pumping a few more times, his fingers rubbing my clit through my orgasm.
"Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God," I pant, my body spasming.
"That's it," he says softly. "So good. You're so good, Victoria."
The praise fills me with warmth.
He continues moving in me, slower and slower, until he stops completely.
I collapse, limp and sated, the world around me fuzzy and warm.
"I've got you," he whispers.
He rolls us, pulling me with him, his cock still inside me.
"So beautiful," he whispers, gathering me in his arms.
I close my eyes and relax against him, my breathing finally slowing.
I'm exhausted.
Utterly and completely exhausted.
"Rest," he says, stroking my back. "Just rest."
"Mario," I say, wanting to thank him.
"Shhhh," he says, holding me tighter.
I relax into him.
"Rest," he repeats.
I let out a breath and close my eyes, the world slowly fading away.
For a few seconds after I wake, I have no idea where I am.
The ceiling is wrong.
Too smooth. Too far away.
The sheets are wrong, too.
Soft in a way that I'm not used to. Heavy but not too warm, cool against my bare legs, smelling faintly of clean cotton and him.
Then the memories arrive.
