Chapter 25 #3
A thrill of fear, and excitement, runs through me. I’m completely at his mercy.
I have no choice but to lie here, wrists tied to the headboard, legs splayed on either side of him. Completely open to him.
He looks down at me, heat in his eyes as they take in every part of me. His eyes rake over me, a slow, deliberate perusal that feels like a physical touch.
He reaches out and trails a single finger down my body, from my throat to my navel. I shiver at the contact.
"You are so beautiful," he says, his voice a low rumble. "All spread out for me."
He kneels on the bed between my legs, and my body tenses in anticipation.
He rubs his palms over my thighs gently. His hands are big and warm, and I can feel the calluses on his palms, a rough counterpoint to the smoothness of my skin.
Then over my hips, and up my sides.
He takes his sweet time, touching me everywhere but where I need him most. My hips start to arch off the bed, a silent plea.
"So impatient," he chuckles, a low, knowing sound.
I'm about to say something, to beg him, but then his hands are on my breasts, cupping their weight, his thumbs circling my nipples, which are already hard and aching for his touch.
I gasp, my back arching off the bed, pushing my breasts deeper into his hands.
Roberto just watches me respond to his touch. He doesn't use his mouth or anything else.
Just his hands.
It's maddening.
I want him to kiss me, to bite me, to do something, anything, to ease the ache that's building inside me.
But he doesn't.
He just continues to touch me, to explore my body with a focused, almost scientific intensity.
He's learning me. Learning what makes me gasp, what makes me squirm, what makes me moan.
His hands are on my stomach now, tracing the soft curve of it, then lower, to the sensitive skin of my inner thighs.
I whimper, my hips bucking involuntarily.
"Shhh," he murmurs, his breath hot against my ear. "I'll give you what you want. But not yet."
Finally, finally, he lowers his head, and I feel the heat of his breath on my inner thigh.
I gasp as he kisses me there, a soft, open-mouthed kiss that leaves me aching for more.
He's a master of this, this slow, deliberate torture. He knows exactly how to touch me, how to kiss me, to drive me to the brink of madness.
He kisses a path up my inner thigh, his tongue darting out to taste my skin.
I'm writhing on the bed now, my hips arching up to meet him, but he keeps me pinned with a firm hand on my stomach.
"Roberto, please," I beg, my hands pulling at the tie. "Please."
I’m so aroused, my need for him is a physical ache, a deep, throbbing need that demands to be satisfied.
He chuckles, the sound a low, dirty laugh that sends a shiver down my spine.
But he doesn't give me what I want. He just continues his way up my body with his mouth, perusing me in the same way his eyes, then his hands, did.
My head is thrashing against the pillows now, my hands fisted above my head, pulling against the silk that binds me.
He's driving me insane, and I love it.
I love the way he's completely in control, the way he's playing my body like an instrument, the way he's making me feel things I've never felt before.
He finally reaches my breasts, and I cry out as he takes one aching nipple into his hot, wet mouth.
He sucks, hard, and I arch my back, pushing myself deeper into his mouth, a strangled cry escaping my lips.
He gives the same attention to the other one, teasing me with his tongue and teeth until I'm a mindless, writhing mess.
I'm so close, so close to the edge, but he's still holding me back, still denying me the release I so desperately crave.
"Roberto," I beg, my voice a ragged sob. "Please, I need..."
"Shh," he says, soothing me. The action sends tingles over my skin. I'm so hypersensitive at this point that I cry out.
He looks at me, the heat in his eyes intensifying, a look of pure, unadulterated lust.
Roberto presses his body, still fully clothed, against me.
The rough fabric of his suit abrades my skin, a delicious friction that has me arching against him.
I can feel the hard, hot length of him against my thigh, a promise of what's to come.
I want to feel him inside me, stretching me, filling me, until there's nothing left of me but him.
"You're so wet, Olivia," he says, his voice a low growl against my ear. "So wet, so ready for me."
I can only nod, my throat too tight to form words.
He lowers his head and brushes his lips against mine.
It's a soft, gentle kiss, a stark contrast to the wild, frantic energy that’s been building between us.
He kisses me again, and I open my mouth, deepening the kiss, my tongue tangling with his.
I want to devour him, to consume him, to make him as crazy for me as I am for him.
But he pulls away, a slow smile spreading across his face.
"Not yet," he says, and the words are a fresh torture.
He then pulls away and slowly, deliberately, unbuttons his shirt, revealing the hard planes of his chest, the lines of muscle that speak of discipline and control.
I know what's coming, and my body clenches in anticipation.
He shrugs the shirt off, letting it fall to the floor.
My breath catches in my throat.
I've seen him shirtless before, but not like this. Not in the soft glow of candlelight, with his eyes burning with a hunger that makes my own ache in response.
I watch, mesmerized, at every new inch of skin exposed.
I pull at the silk binding my wrists again. Not to escape, but because I have an overwhelming urge to touch him.
Roberto sees it, the look on his face telling me he knows exactly what I want, but he's not going to give it to me.
He unbuckles his belt and pulls it free from the loops of his trousers with a soft whisper of leather.
I hold my breath, my eyes locked on the movement of his hands.
He folds the belt in half, the leather creaking softly in the quiet room.
My heart hammers against my ribs, a frantic, wild beat.
He trails the folded leather over my stomach, and I flinch at the cool, smooth feel of it.
"Shhh," he murmurs, a soothing sound that does nothing to calm my racing heart. "I won't hurt you. Not unless you want me to."
The thought is so shocking, so arousing, that a strangled noise escapes my throat.
I've never considered… that.
But with him, I think I might.
He continues to trace patterns on my skin with the belt, a slow, hypnotic rhythm that has me squirming on the bed.
Then, without warning, he brings the belt down on my thigh with a sharp smack.
It's not hard, not enough to really hurt, but the sudden, stinging contact sends a jolt of electricity straight to my clit.
I cry out, my hips bucking off the bed.
He tosses it aside with a dark smile. "Another day, perhaps."
He then climbs off the bed and unzips his trousers, pushes them down along with his boxers.
And then he's naked before me.
And he's… magnificent.
He's all hard muscle and raw power, a predator in his prime.
But it's the look on his face that truly undoes me. A look of such raw, unfiltered hunger that I feel it like a physical touch.
My gaze drops to his cock, heavy and erect, jutting out from his hard body.
My mouth waters.
The memory of my head dangling off the arm of the couch, Roberto feeding me his cock until even my breath belonged to him
I want that. I want him in my mouth.
He climbs back on the bed, and I expect him to climb on top of me, to finally give me what I've been craving all night.
But he doesn't.
He kneels between my legs, his gaze hot and intense.
He leans forward, bracing his hands on either side of my head, and lowers his head to my ear.
"I'm going to eat you now, Olivia," he whispers, his breath hot against my skin. "I'm going to eat your pretty little pussy until you scream."
My body clenches, a fresh wave of arousal flooding me.
"I want everyone to hear you screaming my name," he continues, his words a dark, delicious promise. "By the end of the night, everyone in this hotel will know you belong to me."
He kisses my neck, a soft, possessive kiss.
Then he starts to kiss a path down my body, a trail of fire that leaves me aching for more.
He's in no hurry, and it's driving me insane.
He takes his sweet time, exploring my body with his mouth, tasting every inch of me, from the sensitive skin behind my knees to the hollow of my throat.
He's marking me, claiming me, and I love it.
I love the feeling of his mouth on my skin, the rough scrape of his stubble, the possessive way he holds me down.
I'm writhing on the bed, my hands fisted above my head, my body a live wire of sensation.
I've never felt so wanted, so desired, so utterly consumed by another person.
He's not just having sex with me.
He's devouring me.
He finally reaches the apex of my thighs, and I hold my breath, my entire body tensing in anticipation.
He looks up at me, his eyes dark and fathomless in the soft light.
"Look at me," he commands.
I force my gaze to meet his, and the intensity I see there almost makes me come undone.
He slides a hand under each thigh and lifts, setting one on each shoulder. My heels are in the air on either side of his head. The sight of it is so obscenely decadent that I blush. I want to look away, but can’t.
The sheer intimacy of it—me completely exposed to him, and him holding me open like he’s about to feast on a sumptuous meal.
"I want you to watch me, Olivia," he says, his voice a low growl. "I want you to watch me eat your pussy."
My face flames, but I can’t look away. I’m hypnotized.
He keeps his eyes locked on mine as he lowers his head, and then I feel the hot, wet heat of his mouth on my pussy.
He starts with a long, slow lick from my opening to my clit, and I cry out, my back arching off the bed.
It’s the most exquisite torture I’ve ever experienced.
He licks me again, a slow, thorough exploration that has me gasping for breath.
He's taking his sweet time, tasting me, learning me, and I'm writhing on the bed, my hips bucking against his face, my hands pulling at the silk that binds me.
"Roberto," I gasp, my hands pulling at the silk binding my wrists.
"Shhh," he murmurs, the sound a vibration that goes straight through me.
He then closes his lips around my clit and sucks, hard.
I scream, my body arching off the bed, my toes curling as a wave of pleasure so intense, so overwhelming, crashes over me.
It's too much, and not enough.
I want more.
I want him to stop.
I want him to never, ever stop.
He doesn't stop. He just... devours me.
He's relentless, his tongue and lips working their magic, driving me to the brink of madness with a single-minded focus.
I'm lost in a sea of sensation, a swirling vortex of pleasure so intense, I feel like I'm going to fly apart.
He slides a finger inside me, then another, stretching me, filling me, and I moan, my hips moving in tandem with the thrust of his fingers.
He thrusts them in and out of me as he sucks my clit, creating a delicious friction that pushes me closer and closer to the brink of madness.
I see myself in the mirror on the door of the wardrobe. Disheveled, head pressed deep into the mattress, cheeks red with pleasure, and a desperate ache to orgasm spread from my face right to the top of my skull as Roberto devours my cunt like I’m a banquet served up only for him.
Just… us.
I close my eyes, then open them again as pleasure so potent hits me harder than before. The candles blur into little orange lights against the dimness as the knot behind my head gives a slight rattle with a tug that’s purely automatic.
I can’t breathe, I can't do anything but make sounds that aren't really my own. Animalistic, desperate sounds flow out of me, and I wonder briefly if anyone else can hear me.
The idea shocks me with how turned on it makes me to think of someone walking into the wrong suite, or listening from the next room.
Just outside that door is everything: the guests, the casino.
I find myself wanting them to hear, just like he said. I want the whole hotel to know what he is doing to me.
My eyes drift back to the mirror, to my reflection, and the sight of it, the raw, unfiltered pleasure on my face, my hands pulled tight over my head, my heels sticking in the air. Roberto's dark head of hair between my spread legs.
I turn my face into my upper arm, muffling the sobs and nonsense words that come spiraling out.
He stops suddenly, and the sudden absence of his touch sends a jolt of panic through me. Before I can react, he's got his hand on my chin, turning my face.
"No," he says, a dark command. "Let me hear you. Let everyone hear you."
He lowers his head and continues to eat me, making me crazy as he thrusts another finger into me and finds that little bundle of nerves deep inside that he knows so well.
"Oh please." The words scrape out of my raw throat. I have no choice as heat rises in me and tears fill my eyes. This pleasure, this intimacy... It's almost too much.
It’s as though my soul is laid bare to him.
He is a masterful musician playing a flawless concerto with my body as the instrument.
I'm so close now, the pleasure building to an unbearable crescendo. My body is taut, a bowstring pulled to its breaking point.
My orgasm hits me so hard, I actually scream. A raw, guttural cry of pure, unadulterated pleasure.
My body convulses, wave after wave of ecstasy crashing over me, so intense, so overwhelming, I feel like I'm breaking apart, shattering into a million pieces.
I’m so loud that I surprise myself, but I don’t even care. I hear the sound from a distance, and it seems like a completely different person making the noise, someone who’s been completely possessed by pleasure.
He doesn't stop. He continues to lick me, to suck me, to drive me to the brink of madness and beyond as pleasure flows deep and hot.
Each stroke is pure ownership, and a reminder that shames me briefly before another wave of pleasure pulls at my senses and blows every other thought out of my head.
My body arches up, my feet curling in as my toes ache in the unrelenting shoes.
Tremors run through me as I finally sag, boneless, back against the bed as he finally, slowly, kisses my swollen, sensitive clit one last time.
I lay there, trying to catch my breath, trying to make sense of what just happened. I'm a tangle of limbs and sensations, my mind a blissful blank.
Roberto crawls up my body, his face glistening with my arousal, a smug, masculine look of pride on his face. I want to wipe the smirk off, kiss it off, have it deep inside me forever.
He lowers his head, and I can taste myself on his lips as he kisses me, a deep, possessive kiss. I respond, my tongue tangling with his, my body coming alive again under his touch.
I can feel the hard length of him against my thigh, a promise of what's to come, and I realize with a jolt that he’s not done with me.