Chapter 24 Trilby #2
His palms spread my thighs until I’m standing wide-open, my back against a pillar, with a dangerous man’s hot breath on my pussy. His fingers pull my folds apart, and he leans in and flicks his tongue lightly over my clit. A groan of desperation leaches from my lungs into the damp air.
He presses a finger to my opening and rims it, the sound of wet flesh filling the stone-cold silence. My arousal drips to the floor, and I couldn’t care less.
“Fuck yes. Shiver for me, my beautiful girl.”
He rests his hands lightly on my trembling thighs as though he’s relishing the fact I’m incapable of controlling my body’s response to him. When he leans into me, coating his whole face with my arousal, I sob with relief.
He works his mouth over my entire pussy, fucking my opening with his wicked tongue and suckling at my clit like it’s a nipple.
My head falls back while I grip his thick hair between vibrating fingers.
With his lips firmly attached to my swollen nub, he shifts his angle and slips a finger halfway inside of me. My moan is high and breathless.
He finds a delectable rhythm between circling my pussy and lapping at my clit, which has me panting breathlessly, riding the edge of bliss.
Then, as if he isn’t getting enough, he lifts me off my feet and brings me down onto his face.
My hands reach overhead and grip onto the edges of the pillar as he rocks me back and forth over his mouth. Untethered, desperate breaths are pumped out of my chest as I barrel toward absolute ecstasy.
“Cristiano,” I whisper hoarsely. “Make me come.”
He moans onto my clit and curls his tongue inside my heat. Then my vision explodes into a million stars. He doesn’t let up. He keeps rocking me on his face, and I keep coming. It’s so dirty and so wrong, and I never want him to stop.
My legs are shaking so hard he doesn’t lower me to the floor. Instead he drags his mouth to my upper thigh and French kisses it all the way down to my knee, while I shudder weakly on his shoulders.
He stands before I can protest, and I almost choke on the hunger in his eyes.
His earlier words dance in my ears. “If we’d had sex, you’d still be feeling me in your stomach.”
Suddenly, I want to feel him in my stomach. I want to feel him everywhere. A shadow drapes itself over my consciousness.
“What is it?”
I lift my gaze to his. “It hasn’t worked.”
“What hasn’t worked?”
“I thought scratching that itch would help me . . .”
“But . . .?”
I look away, the shame burning me from my bones to my skin. “It hasn’t.”
His fingers clasp my chin, tilting my face up to his. Without saying a word, he demands I finish that sentence.
My thoughts come out in a trembling whisper. “I need more.”
He leans in and grazes his lips across the shell of my ear. “Say that again.”
My breath stutters, and I whisper, “I need more, Cristiano. I need you.”
He wipes a hand down his face before lifting both hands and pushing my hair back, resting his fingers on my nape. “Fuck,” he drawls.
Then he closes his lips over mine.
For a moment he doesn’t move. He just presses his lips against me, breathing deeply. Then his tongue darts out and softly licks the underside of my top lip.
A groan escapes him, and he pulls away, resting his forehead against mine. It takes a second or two for me to realize his breathing is labored. He’s holding back.
“Kiss me,” I whisper.
His hands reach up and grip the sides of my face.
Then, with his lashes lowered, he brushes his lips across my eyelids, over the bridge of my nose, and down my cheeks.
When he reaches my mouth, he traces my lips with his tongue, the sensation setting every inch of my skin alight.
I moan helplessly, and he folds his mouth over it, sucking it into his lungs.
Then, fuck, does he kiss me.
He presses me back against the pillar while his tongue swipes against mine from every angle in a hungry waltz. It’s messy and delicious and heated.
Those kisses that failed to light me up before? They were nothing compared to this. This man can kiss like it’s his dying breath, and I want him all over me.
“Don’t stop,” I groan as he pulls his mouth away.
He chuckles darkly, smooths his hands below my bare buttocks, and lifts me up. My legs wrap themselves around his waist, my ass brushing the top of his erection.
Just being in his arms with his lips on mine is enough to make my world shimmer.
I’ve wanted this for more than mere weeks.
The way I melt into his embrace as if we were designed for each other, and the way my heart has expanded to fill my entire being, tells me the cool, hard truth: I’ve wanted this all my life.
I don’t understand why or how I know this—I just do.
Cristiano and I must have met in another life.
We were meant to be. And nothing can take that away from us.
His tongue laps at mine, tasting every crevice of my mouth with deep, focused curiosity. It’s like he’s cataloguing every fraction of me. I open up and let him.
“God, I need this,” he moans.
I’m transcending to another reality, one in which I’m treasonous and trapped, but at the same time fed and free.
He continues to kiss me, hard and deep, as he carries me to the elevator. He doesn’t even wait for the door to close before he’s ramming my back against the wall.
His fingers thread up through my hair, his fists pulling at the follicles.
With some of my weight taken away, he grinds into me, slowly rolling his cock up and over my clit, drawing more moans from my throat.
I lean back against the mirrored wall and watch the way his eyes feast on my swollen breasts. They ache to feel his fingers.
All too soon, the elevator doors ping open, and he walks with me wrapped around his waist into his apartment.
I feel my back pressed up against the refrigerator, and he grinds into me again, letting me know just how turned-on he is.
The feel of his solid cock against my soft pussy is maddening, and I let out helpless moans, one after the other.
He runs a hand from my throat to my chest and holds it there as if he’s keeping me literally at arm’s length. Then, slowly, he lowers me to the counter. When the bare skin of my ass touches down, I jump.
“It’s cold, huh?” A slow, devastating wink. “I’ll warm you up in no time.”
He leans forward and catches my bottom lip between his teeth. His warm breath caresses my skin as his tongue chases the sharp graze his teeth left behind.
A wilt of a moan passes from my mouth to his, then I glance down at his pants. They’re wet.
He follows my gaze, and a darkness drapes over him. “I came when I was licking you out.”
“You . . . But—”
“Yeah.” He pushes his hands through my hair and presses kisses to the side of my throat. “Never happened before.”
My head is spinning. Can he come again? I want to be able to give him this.
He senses my questions, stops still, and stares heavily at me. “Don’t worry, Castellano. I’m just getting started.”
Breath gushes from my mouth, and he laughs again. It’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.
I’m lifted again and carried to the master bedroom. He lays me gently on the bed and crawls up over me. His gaze is intense and just hot.
“Let me see your body,” he says softly.
“The zipper is at the back,” I say in a whisper.
“Roll onto your front.”
He sits back on his knees to let me do just that, and I smile as a murmur of approval reaches my ears.
My hair tickles my nape as it’s brushed to the side.
He pulls the zipper down slowly, the cool air nipping at my bare skin.
The zipper reaches to my sit bone, and he swallows as his finger strokes a circle on the small of my back.
His palms touch my back and slide up, until his fingertips are beneath the short sleeves of my dress.
As he pushes them outward, he lowers his body and kisses the top of my spine.
A shiver coasts down it despite his warmth covering me like a blanket.
One by one, he pulls my arms through the straps, then he reaches a hand beneath me and touches my chest. Back on his knees, he pulls me up with one hand while smoothing the dress down to my stomach.
He shifts backward and lifts my hips as I sink my face into the comforter, partly out of embarrassment that I literally have my ass in his face, and partly because I’m still so turned-on I could cry a river.
The dress is pulled down my thighs, baring my bottom to him. He pauses, every second heightening my arousal.
Then he leans forward and sinks his teeth into the left cheek. I yelp and melt under him when he licks away the sting.
“I’m going to make a meal out of your ass, Castellano.” His voice is so gravelly I almost turn to check it’s still him. “And you’re going to kneel there like a good girl and let me.”
I don’t get a chance to object when he does the same to my other ass cheek. I moan like an absolute hussy. I’m heated and restless everywhere, but I don’t want to move. This must be what delirium feels like.
He bites and nibbles until the skin is sore and buzzing, and then he licks and kisses until I’m chasing his teeth again.
“Keep still,” he commands, pushing my bottom forward. “Greedy girl.” Then a hot, wet tongue dips between my legs and licks all the way to my puckered opening.
“Oh yeah,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “You’re still so fucking wet.”
I shiver again.
“Come up onto your hands.”
I do as he says, but it’s slow. I’m so decentered I can barely coordinate my limbs.
He unties my bra and then reaches his hands below me to cup my naked breasts. They rest like pendulums in his palms, and I moan restlessly as he kneads them.
“I want to see you,” I say, slurring my words.
His hands leave my breasts, and he gently rolls me onto my back. I may be as naked as the day I was born, but he is still one hundred percent fully clothed.