Chapter 22 #2
I do, my heart beating hard as he lowers over me, his body so big and warm, his dick feeling huge as it presses between us.
He kisses me again, a fierce, hungry kiss, as he reaches down to feel me one more time.
What he finds must satisfy him—gratify him—because he reaches down to adjust himself, his mouth still pressed to mine.
He thrusts in slightly, the pressure and feeling of him a delicious tease, then pulls back from our kiss.
Looking me in the eyes, he says, “I don’t want to hurt you. Tell me if it hurts.”
“It won’t,” I say.
Holding my gaze, he pushes in deeper. There’s a slight resistance, and he hesitates, but I wrap my hand around his butt and push.
So he lowers his forehead to mine and drives in deeper, moving slowly so my body can adjust to him.
There’s a quick burst of pain and a slightly uncomfortable and entirely foreign feeling of fullness.
But it’s accompanied by a dizzying pleasure, because he’s really inside of me. All of him. He’s inside of me.
And the guttural sound he makes feels delicious.
It’s so different from using a toy—he’s so big and thick, so warm, and his scent is all over me now. You’d think the shower would have washed it away, but it’s stronger than ever, so maybe it’s his pheromones I’m breathing in.
“Are you okay?” he asks, pressing a kiss beneath my ear. “Did it hurt?”
“Only a little.”
“You feel so unbelievably good, Lucia,” he says into my ear. “So tight and wet and—”
“Pin my hands over my head like you did in the shower,” I say, my voice trembling. “I liked that.”
He makes another almost pained sound as he captures my wrists with one hand, the other holding him up.
“Can I move?” he asks.
“If you don’t, this will be a pretty disappointing experience for both of us.”
He gives one of his oh, Lucia smiles and pulls out before thrusting in again, his hand tightening around my wrists.
I feel a little sore, but I’m fascinated by the feeling of him inside of me, hot and pulsing.
There’s a dragging sensation as he pulls out, followed by the pleasure of him thrusting back in.
The third time he does it, he nearly pulls all the way out, his tip teasing me, before he thrusts in harder.
A surprised gasp gusts from me, and a look of panic flashes in his eyes as he says, “Are you okay? Was that…?”
I kiss him to shut him up, and he moans into my mouth, losing some of his caution as he moves faster.
Pulling his mouth from mine, he kisses down to my neck and then my breast. He sucks me in as he thrusts in again, and pleasure starts to build—a different kind of pleasure than before, because he’s experiencing it with me.
He said he didn’t kneel for anyone, but it doesn’t escape me that Enzo has knelt for me twice, and now he’s staring at me like I’m the most important woman in the world.
His lips, his hands, and his cock are all attending to my needs.
It’s intoxicating, and it’s dangerous, because I can’t let myself believe this is about anything other than winning to him.
I shouldn’t let it be about anything more than that for me either. I can’t.
“Sei belissima,” he says as he thrusts again, lowering his lips to my jaw while he holds my hands up high over my head.
“Bella ragazza.” I’m positive he only learned those phrases to impress women in the bedroom, but right now I don’t care.
I want all of him—his words, his clever hands, his lips, the brush of his stubble, and his beautiful, hard dick—making me feel things I didn’t know my body was capable of feeling.
“Wrap your legs around me,” he says.
He sucks in a ragged breath as I cinch my legs around him, taking him in deeper. The pressure is so profound, I feel it everywhere.
“You feel so good,” I breathe out.
“You,” he pants as he thrusts in faster, again and then again, “are a wonder.”
I feel like one. I feel beautiful and desirable and wanted.
I don’t feel like Lucy, who’s too serious, with her dying mother and her depressing job.
Or Lucy, the oldest student in her classes because everyone else figured out what they wanted to do with their lives ages ago.
None of that matters right now, with him.
All that matters is that we want each other. Need each other.
He releases my hands and surprises me by rolling onto his back, bringing me with him. “Ride me, Lucy,” he says, his fiery eyes meeting mine. “Take your pleasure from me.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say I don’t know how, that I’ve never done this before. But he knows that, and I don’t want to admit to any weakness with him, any more than he’d want to do so with me.
So I decide to embrace this for what it is—practice. Practice with a delicious man.
I rise up tentatively, and his hands grip my thighs, just this side of painful, as I sink down on him.
I don’t get the angle right the first time, but I still feel so full.
So strange with him inside of me. Good but foreign.
So I try again, and this time he lowers his hand down to just above where we’re joined, rubbing me there as I move over him, and the combination of feelings makes pleasure spiral through me.
I move faster, feeling myself clenching around him.
He makes a sound deep in his throat as his hand keeps working me, his other hand reaching around to grip my butt as he thrusts upward, and then it happens—
The pleasure bursts, pushing me over the edge, and I cry out as it pulses through me, again and again.
I feel him tumble over the edge with me, whispering my name. Calling me Lucia.
I lie down on top of him, wanting to feel him against me for another few seconds, because it’s done now. And maybe that means we’re done with each other too.
We should be, anyway, because I can already feel it happening. My heart is starting to reach for this arrogant, funny, controlling jerk.
That means one thing: he has to go.