Azra
My bounce on the mattress arrives with a giggle, and my tits clap, but I’m so lax after back-to-back orgasms it takes my woozy head a few minutes to register that Matteo isn’t hovering above or beside me.
He’s nowhere to be seen.
I pinch my thigh—hard.
Ouch!
“Are you sore?”
My eyes shoot to the side. He’s pulling down the sheets of a California king bed, naked head to toe. His skin glistens as much as mine, and his cock is erect and arching up to his navel.
“No.” I’m sore, but not in a way that is discomforting or dangerous. I honestly feel free. “I was just checking that I’m not dreaming.”
It occurs to me that I said my last statement out loud when Matteo says, “If you are, please suffocate me good. I don’t want to ever wake up.”
I’m confused by his statement until he slips under the sheets and angles his chin toward the ceiling. He wants me to ride his face. Don’t ask me how I know this. I just do.
When I hesitate, not as brave as I make out, Matteo says, “If you want this to stop, la mia tigrotta, say the word. It will immediately stop. But if you think you’ve got another orgasm—or ninety—in you, come sit on my face.”
“I don’t think I have ninety in me, but I wouldn’t say no to more.”
Matteo’s smug smirk… Are you sure I’m not dreaming?
“Then come on over and take a seat. I don’t bite.”
“Unless I want you to.”
I almost combust on the spot when his smirk turns into a genuine smile. “Unless you want me to.”
I crawl up the mattress, and my breasts scrape his erection on the way, causing a strange mewling noise to escape his throat.
With his hands steadying my sways, he helps me flatten my knees on each side of his head.
My legs almost pull out from beneath me when he extends his neck to drag his nose through the seam of my pussy.
“You smell so good, la mia tigrotta. I could get drunk on that scent.” His nostrils flare as lust blackens his gaze. “Now suffocate me with the pussy that ruined me.”
Stealing my chance to secure something to grab hold of, he pulls me down onto his mouth, groaning when his tongue rolls over my clit and then spears inside me.
“Ohh…” I moan, incapable of full sentences.
I’m meant to be doing all the work. That’s the idea of any cowgirl position, isn’t it? But with my legs replicating Jell-O and my needs too hungry for logical thoughts, I only groan and rock while Matteo’s mouth picks up the slack.
He rolls his tongue over my clit and grazes it with his teeth while his fingers dig into my ass. He eats me with a hunger I’ve never experienced, and before I can warn him, an orgasm surfaces quicker than a tsunami.
Every muscle clenches as I come again.
I grind down on him so hard that I’m certain he’s moments away from suffocation, but Matteo’s tongue doesn’t stop slithering, and his moans don’t silence.
He drives me to climax over and over again until the hardly worth mentioning sting on the sensitive pink area between my pussy and my ass represents a gravel rash more than a superficial tear.
I can’t stop coming.
Moaning.
I sing Matteo’s praises on repeat until I feel invincible.
Something this awe-inspiring should never be associated with pain or embarrassment. It’s such a beautiful thing, and I’m done believing it’s okay for my body to be used by anyone but me.
I want to feel Matteo inside me again. I want to feel the way his cock flexes when I give him lip, and the squirts of his cum when the tension becomes too much to bear.
I want him.
And I will have him.
“Azra…” Matteo growls in warning when I slip down his body.
Just like earlier, his threat holds no steam. He wants this as badly as I do. The girth of his manhood when I guide it toward my opening signifies this, not to mention the throb of the corded veins in his neck when I pierce the crown through the wetness.
“Wait,” Matteo shouts.
“I’m on birth control,” I assure him, confident that’s why he’s requesting I stop.
He proves me wrong. “It’s not that. You’re not wet enough yet.”
I ha! him. “I’m drenched. I can’t possibly get any wetter.”
A challenging glint darts through his eyes. “Wanna bet?”
He watches me with hungry, wanton eyes before he floods my pussy with streams of sticky residue. My limbs shake as beads of his cum add to the wetness between my legs.
“Fucking knew it,” he murmurs more to himself than me, his voice raspy with ecstasy. “I knew your face alone could make me come.”
Too overwhelmed to continue swimming through the madness swamping me, I pull my legs out from beneath me, taking him to the root.
Matteo curses as his hands shoot out to seize my hips.
“Fuck, la mia tigrotta.”
I gasp as my body fights to accommodate him.
It hurts. A lot. But it also feels good.
“Relax for me. We don’t need to move yet,” Matteo says when I attempt to slide off him.
Ignoring him, I rise until the tip of his cock almost slips out, and then I slam back down.
“Jesus Christ.” He wires his jaw so tight I can’t be sure that’s what he says.
“I should have known you’d be a connoisseur of pain.
” When I rise above him again, he frees a handful more inches by adjusting the tilt of his hips, then looks at me.
“Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be cautious, though.
I’d rather have you unable to walk for a week with aching, sexually satiated muscles than an unusable, busted up cunt. ”
With his hand fisting his cock so I can’t take the last four inches, he jerks up his chin, permitting me to move. “Go slow. Then, once you’re acclimated to me, you can go as fast as you want.”
I take small, shallow breaths as I sink down. I’m so full, and the sensation triples when Matteo flexes his cock in appreciation of my slower approach.
“Good girl.” He works his jaw side to side, his fingers digging into my hip as he grinds out, “You’re so fucking tight.”
“Am I hurting you?”
His chuckles vibrate through his cock. “No. But I wouldn’t care if you were.” He lifts his ass off the mattress, pushing in deeper. “You feel good. So fucking good. I’m just struggling like fuck not to slam home and make you mine.”
“Why?” That’s precisely what I want. I want to be his. “Is that not what you want?”
“I’ve never wanted something more.”
Leaning over, I capture his lip between my teeth. I give it a playful tug and shiver when the tangy aroma of blood fills my nostrils. “Then do that. Make me yours.”
“Azra…”
I skim my mouth across his jaw before I suckle the tattooed skin on his neck. I suck hard enough to mark him, and for his dick to release squirts of pre-cum inside me.
“Mark me. Claim me. Let everyone in this hotel know who I belong to. Fuck me like you own me,” I whisper in his ear.
And he does, hard and fast, for the next several hours.