Azra
Awave builds low in my stomach as every inch of my skin prickles with goose bumps.
The mornings are getting cooler by the day as we approach winter, but I wake up drenched in sweat.
The new birth control, which the Caruso family doctor suggested earlier this week when they added me to their medical database, isn’t causing me to sweat. It is my husband’s skilled tongue.
Matteo has woken me like this every morning for the past week. He’s either too impatient for me to wake or too hungry. The speed of his licks and his pussy-quaking groan when my fingers weave through his hair assure me it is the latter.
“Morning, la mia tigrotta.”
“Mo-morning,” I stammer out when he circles his lips around my clit and sucks it into his mouth.
I arch up to him, grinding against him as tingles race across my skin.
My virgin title meant we had to go slow the first few times, but now, things get out of control awfully fast. I don’t mind. I love being taken hard and fast by him. Every time I move, I’m reminded of how combustible our lovemaking is.
His damp roots wetting my fingertips zaps excitement through me. Patience is not Matteo’s strong point, but the dampness of his scalp and the pulse ringing in my ears announce he gave it his best shot this morning.
“How long have you been trying to wake me?”
His deep, rumbling voice vibrates through my pussy, making my knees fold inward.
“Wake you? No, sweetheart, that isn’t what I was trying to do.
” When he parts me with two fingers, I sweep my thighs open.
I know what’s coming next, and I love it.
“I was merely calculating how many times I could make you climax before you realized you weren’t dreaming. ”
“I wasn’t dreaming?” I whisper, recalling the wickedly deviant dream I had last night.
“No, you weren’t.” He sends a hot puff of air over my clit before he slips two fingers inside me. My hands shoot out to grip the sheets as his fingers curl. It doesn’t matter the angle of my hips or the darkness of the room; he never struggles to find both my G-spot and my clit.
As he hardens my clit to an unimaginable stiffness, he stimulates my G-spot with perfectly timed strokes. I unravel in seconds, and the sensation blasting through me has me uncaring who hears my screams.
“Oh… Jesus Christ.” I should be used to waking this way. It’s as regular as brushing my teeth after breakfast, but every morning, he heightens my excitement to a never-before-reached level. “Matteo…”
“That’s right, la mia tigrotta. Let everyone know who has their head between your legs.” Between each word, he strikes my clit with his tongue. “It’s not Jesus. It is his much more fun and more corrupt little brother.”
His chuckles almost set me off when I mash his mouth back with my pussy while telling him to shut up and eat me like he means it.
“Yes, ma’am.”
As I grind against his mouth, he scrapes my clit with his teeth. The sensation of his prickles on the sensitive skin of my perineum feels amazing. It’s as gritty as our union, yet mind-hazing.
My muscles pull taut as tingles dance across my throbbing pussy. The pressure he places on the sweet spot inside me is perfect. I can’t stop moaning, grinding, and shouting his brilliance in the air.
As the tingles spread from the roots of my hair to the tips of my toes, I clench the walls of my vagina around his thrusting fingers, greedily sucking at him. My screams grow louder as another orgasm presents faster than I can comprehend how easy it is to get caught up in his hype.
Even when we’re not having sex, I’m constantly swept away. Matteo is a rough brute of a man, but he cares deeply. He loves his brothers, father, and everyone associated with them. And if I’m reading him right, he’s developing feelings for me as well.
The remembrance blindsides me with a brutal, body-shaking orgasm. My back lifts off the mattress as my toes curl. Pleasure pulsates around me, and Matteo watches every single spasm. He loves making me unravel as much as he loves when my hunger to taste him again has me acting like a wildcat.
My lungs are devoid of air, and every fiber of my body bristles, but I feel so good that I launch for Matteo before he can react.
I push him back, then shoot my hand down for the zipper of his jeans.
The fact that he’s dressed announces he’s been awake far longer than I have, but since I’m salivating at the mouth to taste him, asking how his meeting went with his brothers will have to wait until after I’ve sucked him dry of cum.
“Fuck...” he hisses when I trek my tongue over the sticky slit of his crown a second after yanking his boxers down enough to free the first few inches of his cock. “So greedy, la mia tigrotta. You can’t even wait to take off my jeans before swallowing my cock like you were born to do it.”
I nod. His accusation is factual, so why lie?
My moan vibrates his balls when he tugs his pants down far enough to fully expose himself. His cock is beautiful. It’s thick and long and smells amazing. It’s a clean, musky scent that adds a sensual allure to our exchanges.
I love how he smells. So much so that I drag my cheek along the underside of him, coating myself in his manly scent.
With his hand fisting the base, Matteo feeds the first two inches into my mouth, too impatient to wait a second longer. I swivel my tongue around his cut head before flattening my tongue, welcoming him in deep.
The gag his descent forces from me heats me all over. I’m both aroused and eager to accept as much of him as possible into my mouth.
“Christ, la mia tigrotta. Your mouth. That tongue. Those fuckable lips.” He grunts before he rocks his hips forward, choking me. “I love when you choke on my dick.”
I suck him faster. I love it when he loses control, but I am also dying to taste his cum again. My cheeks ache in minutes, but I hold nothing back. I lick him, suck him, and graze my teeth over his engorged knob until the pumps of pre-cum leaking from the tip make my sucks even more ravenous.
Growling, Matteo threads his fingers in my hair as his hips rock on repeat. He fucks my mouth with long, controlled strokes, and I savor every grunt and nostril flare.
When I gaze up at him, his grip on my hair tightens. I love the sting. Not only is roughness a part of who Matteo is, but it also proves I’m not the fragile object my brothers always made me out to be. I can take pain, and I’ll give it to the person deserving of it.
I flatten my tongue on the shaft of his penis, and he hisses out a curse word. He’s so close that even with me figuratively on my knees, I’m in full control of this situation.
He has handed the power to me, and I’m not alone in knowing this.
“You love this, don’t you? Bending my knees.”
I nod, then dart my tongue over the sensitive crown of his cock.
He grapples for a snippet of the power he handed over. “But that isn’t all you love, is it, la mia tigrotta?”
He cuts off my denial by ramming his cock in so deep my gag isn’t close to sexy.
I sound like I’m choking.
“Tell the truth…”
I silence him by doubling down on my sucks. Both the firmness and speed make my cheeks ache, but the pain is worth it when his cum swamps my taste buds with its delicious taste.
Matteo rocks his hips faster, driving into my mouth as he usually does my pussy. Cum pours out of him in raring spurts, but the thickness of his cock doesn’t diminish in the slightest. It’s as hard now as it was when it first sprang out of his boxer shorts.
A squeak pops from my lips when he pulls his cock from my mouth just before he flips me over, drags me back, then angles my hips to the desired height. I call out when he enters me with one ardent thrust. He’s so deep that my hips naturally pull upward to accommodate the intrusion.
The pain of being so wholly filled is still there, but it’s part and parcel of being with a man as well-endowed as Matteo. I don’t think it will matter how many times he penetrates me; I’ll always experience some kind of pain.
Luckily, I’m growing to love it—as much as I am this man.
Needing to keep those thoughts to myself before they swallow me whole, I meet Matteo’s thrusts grind for grind. I fuck him as much as he fucks me, and within minutes, sweat pours out of me as stars blister before my eyes.
“Oh… oh…” I moan on repeat, each wordless vow of wonderment growing louder.
Matteo doesn’t relent. With the fingers on his left hand digging into my hip, and his right hand tangled in my hair, he fucks me hard and fast.
The vein feeding his monstrous manhood adds an additional element to our exchange. It throbs in sync with my clit, which is belting out a rock ballad.
I tighten my pussy around him, silently begging for him to spiral out of control with me. I can’t be so thoroughly claimed and maintain a collective head. It’s not possible.
Equaling Matteo in wit and sexual appetite is the only thing keeping his interest. If I make this seem like more than insane sexual chemistry, he’ll run, won’t he?
All thoughts leave my head when Matteo slips his hand from my hip to between my legs. As his impressive cock commands every inch of my pussy, he pinches my clit between his thumb and index finger.
I dig my nails into the bedding as a string of illegible words leaves my mouth. I have no clue what I’m saying, or if I am even speaking English, but each word doubles the strength of Matteo’s pumps.
He dominates me until I feel so wholly owned that I don’t balk when he again asks, “You love this, don’t you?”
As I nod, a wave so brutal it will drown me on land crests in my stomach.
“But that isn’t all you love, is it, la mia tigrotta?”
My stubbornness forces him to increase the tempo of his thrusts.
He screws me senseless and I do nothing but scream.
“What else do you love, la mia tigrotta?”
He stuffs his fat cock in deep, then rolls his hips, ending me.
My orgasm is brutal and long, sending shudders wreaking havoc over every inch of me.
“Or should I say, who else do you love?”
Sexually satiated beyond comprehension, thoughts I should keep internal stumble out. “You. I love you.”