Chapter 24
This differsfrom that first night together. Santo’s kiss is careful, fueled by curiosity and not lust.
I’m glad he kissed me right away. I wasn’t sure how we would get started; would we have awkward small talk over a bottle of wine? It didn’t sound sexy. But neither did getting right to him going down on me.
But this is sexy. Santo doesn’t press against me, but his hands hold my hips in a grip that tightens the longer we kiss. His mouth is warm and firm, a slight hint of wine but mostly the taste of him.
His lips are soft, sweeping across mine, his beard rasping against my skin whenever he moves. I shift on my feet, swaying closer, and he nips at my bottom lip. Just when I think he’s about to deepen the kiss and involve our tongues, he pulls away.
“Which would be more comfortable for you: bed or couch?”
“Bed.” The word comes out as a whisper, and I have to swallow my nerves and try again.
He plants another chaste kiss on my lips before taking my hand and leading me back to his room. There’s a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf on one side and the only light is a bedside lamp with a warm glow. Opposite is a set of windows, beyond which the lights of Rome twinkle just like any other city. He guides me to perch on the edge of the bed and kneels between my feet.
Already? I lick my lips as Santo bows his head to press a kiss to my exposed knee.
“Just so you know…I trimmed.” I gesture vaguely toward my crotch. “So, it’s different.” Santo looks up at me, eyebrow arched. “I didn’t want you to be surprised.”
“You thought I would be surprised that you shaved your pussy?”
I cringe. Even from Santo’s mouth, with his sexy accent, that word is still so weird.
“What?” He rocks back on his heels.
“It’s nothing.” I wave my hand. “Ignore me.”
Santo sits back even further, bracing his hands on the bed and not me. “If I say something you don’t like, I want to know.”
I stare at him, and he stares back.
“Fine. I don’t like that word.”
His eyebrows draw together. “Did I use it wrong?”
“No, you used it right,” I assure him. “I just don’t like it.”
“What do you like? Cunt?”
I don’t even have to say anything; he can tell I like it even less.
“Vagina? It’s inaccurate, but I understand it is common.”
I put a hand over my eyes. I can’t believe we are having this conversation. “No, it’s fine. I don’t have a word that I like, so you can call it whatever you want. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
A firm grip circles my wrist and pulls my hand away from my eyes. “I don’t have to use any of those,” Santo says gently as I meet his gaze. “How about figa?”
I repeat the word, and Santo says it again. It might be vulgar or insulting in Italian, but I wouldn’t know. It sounds nice.
“Yeah, that works.”
“Good.” He rises on his knees again. “Lay back.”
I follow his instructions, falling back onto the duvet. It’s an off-white color, cool and soft.
A contrast to Santo’s hands, which return to my knees, and his lips, which gently kiss the inside of my right thigh, just above his hand.
I close my eyes and focus on what Santo is doing. His nose nuzzles the spot he just kissed, and the air moves as he breathes in and out. His fingers tease the hem of my dress, his forearms nudge my legs further apart, he applies wet, sucking kisses. I pay attention to every detail lavished on me.
Oh wait…
I prop myself up on my elbows, looking down at Santo. “One more thing.”
He raises his head. His eyes are hazy and hooded already, and I regret interrupting him. We hadn’t even really started yet, but I am interrupting. That he is so into this already makes my stomach clench and my thighs twitch as I force myself not to clamp down in need.
“It might take me a while,” I say. “If you need a break or to stop, that’s fine. You know, like if your jaw or neck gets tired or something.”
A beat passes before Santo speaks. “This is a good position for my neck,” he says. “Better than on the bed together. And my jaw will be fine.”
Is he trying not to laugh at me? Ugh.
I flop back, but Santo resumes his attention on me, and any lingering embarrassment vanishes. Instead, I’m hot and antsy for him to move up. Since I was sharing a place with my kids, I didn’t masturbate at all this past week. Not that I do it often, anyway, but I thought maybe I should wait to be as horny as possible. And these past few days of anticipation certainly have me craving an orgasm.
When Santo first brushes against my underwear—just his cheek, I think—my hips lift off the bed involuntarily. He chuckles and turns, placing his open mouth on me through the silky fabric.
I groan at the heat, and then Santo takes a deep breath in, smelling me, and holy shit is that hot. He must like it because he does it again.
“Santo—”
His fingers climb my outer thighs and hook the side of my underwear, sliding them down. Cool air rushes in on me, but Santo is back in moments, his warm breath on my wetness.
“Che bella figa,” he says.
Whatever it is, it sounds complementary, and I recognize figa. I didn’t realize having a man whisper compliments to me in a foreign language would be so sexy.
And then his mouth is on me, hot and wet.
I hope he likes the way I taste. He seems to like the smell, so that’s a good sign, right? And the trim…
Stop it, Emma. Focus.
Santo is definitely enthusiastic. I’m not sure what his tongue is doing half the time, but it feels good. He’s experimenting, flattening his tongue, pointing it, licking different parts of me. I want to encourage him, but I also want to know what I actually like, so I try to relax.
After a few minutes, Santo’s mouth leaves me. Oh no. I open my eyes and prop myself up on my elbows so that I can look at him. He leans back on his heels again.
“What are you thinking about?”
“I’m paying attention,” I say quickly. “In the past, I’ve had a hard time focusing and I know that doesn’t help, but I really am enjoying what you are doing. Am I not loud enough? I can?—”
Santo cuts me off by squeezing my thighs. “Emma, you can think about whatever you want. You don’t have to focus on me. You can think about a…a scene you like from your favorite book, or one of the Hemsworth brothers, or whatever gets you there. Whatever you think about when you are by yourself.”
I don’t tell Santo that last time I was by myself I was thinking about him. But what he is saying makes sense. I don’t worry about Dream Santo noticing my flaws or getting tired.
“You don’t mind?”
He laughs. “I’m the one between your thighs, enjoying your taste, so no, I don’t mind. You’ll just have to tell me which Hemsworth brother later.” He winks.
This time, when he lowers his mouth, I cast about for something to think about.
A few years ago, Jade gave us a subscription to an ethical porn website for Christmas. We hadn’t really talked about it since, but I kept my subscription going. I think about that now and remember one of my favorite videos.
A woman, white and blonde with a round face and soft body rides a man in reverse cowgirl. A lot of the scene was filmed from between his legs, watching her while she moves. Her being in control like that, the way she touches her own body while working her hips to move on his dick was the best part. His hands roamed over her body, too, but mostly it was her I enjoyed watching; the way she tweaked her nipples or gripped her entire breast in one hand and squeezed.
I do the same thing to myself through my dress and bra, though my boobs are bigger than hers and don’t quite fit in my hand the same way. I leave one hand on my breast and let the other wander down, slipping under the hem of my dress to rest on my stomach.
Santo moans, and I squeeze my breast harder. In the video, the woman’s partner eventually places his hands on her back, supporting her while she works herself on his dick. She bites her lip, her hips rocking and her thighs tensing. My body echoes hers, my hips moving against Santo’s mouth, and he sucks on my clit. Heat surges in my lower belly, and I curl up. I can’t hold it like that, so I move my hand on my stomach back and prop myself up on my elbow so I can keep watching, and Santo moves his right hand to my belly instead.
He alternates between teasing and firm, and so subtly I barely notice it happens, my focus is completely on Santo. I don’t have to think about that video anymore because all I can think about is the way Santo’s mouth is pulling on my clit and the tension coiling in my core.
“Right there,” I gasp, and Santo keeps suckling. My whole body tenses up, my toes curl and a wave of heat washes over me. Then my head falls back, my body clenches and tightens as I come on Santo’s tongue.