Chapter 17 #2
My back arches as pleasure builds, winding tighter and tighter in my belly. The friction from him, the pressure from my own fingers, the sight of him watching me—it’s all too much.
"You want to come, Doctor?"
"Yes," I whimper. "God, yes."
"I told you I wanted you to come on my face. That I wanted to lick it all up." His thrusts against me get a little harder. "I'm a man of my word."
He pulls away from me abruptly, and a cry of protest escapes me at the loss.
Before I can fully register what's happening, he hooks his arms under my thighs and lifts me up to his waiting mouth.
Then he is on me again.
His tongue, hot and wet, lashing against my clit. His fingers, thrusting deep inside me. He's not holding back now. He's taking me with an urgency that matches the fire roaring through my own veins.
I cry out, my hands flying back to his hair, holding him to me, grinding against him as I chase my release. The pleasure is a wildfire, consuming everything in its path.
"I want you to scream my name when you come, Teresa," he says before going back for more.
He sucks my clit into his mouth again, hard, flicking it with his tongue over and over while his fingers curl inside me, hitting that perfect, magical spot.
My entire body goes rigid.
And then I shatter.
My back bows off the bed. His name tears from my throat in a scream as the orgasm rips through me, violent and all-consuming. I pulse against his tongue, my body trembling uncontrollably.
True to his word, he drinks it all in, his mouth is relentless as he works me through the storm, his tongue stroking and tasting, wringing every last drop of pleasure from my shuddering body.
A tidal wave of pure sensation crashes over me, again and again, obliterating everything but the feeling of his mouth on me.
When the waves finally recede, I’m a boneless, panting mess, limp against the pillows. My entire body is tingling, humming with a pleasure so intense it borders on pain.
Vito gives me one last, thorough lick before pulling away and climbing to his feet. He stands over me, his chest heaving, his face slick, and God, the sight of him, looking like that, does something to me.
His dick is still hard, thick, weeping with need. Standing at attention as he towers over me.
I can do nothing but lie there, legs spread in abandon, and watch as he gives me a slow, predatory smile. A smile that says he's not nearly done with me yet.
He leans over me and slides one hand under my head to hold tight to my hair, pulling slightly to tilt my head back, holding me right where he wants me. His dick is hot and heavy against my stomach.
He lowers his head, his mouth just inches from mine. I can smell myself on him, and it’s intoxicating. I attempt to reach up and close the gap, but the hold he has on my hair prevents me.
He slides his tongue over my lips. "You taste even better when you come."
Then he slides that wicked tongue between my lips to share that taste with me. The slide of his tongue against mine is overwhelming as he devours me, taking what he wants.
And I let him.
I moan into his mouth, my hands sliding up his sweat-slicked back, my nails scraping lightly against his skin.
I can feel the hard length of him against my belly as he grinds lightly into me, and I shift my hips, widening my thighs, inviting him.
He breaks the kiss, his breathing ragged. His eyes burn into mine, a dark, possessive fire.
I expect him to take me. To finally, finally bury himself inside me and end this exquisite torture.
But he doesn't.
Instead, he wraps one arm around my waist and flips me over, moving me as if I weigh nothing. Suddenly, I'm on my stomach, my face buried in the soft pillows, my ass in the air.
A surprised gasp escapes me.
His hands are on my ass, kneading the soft flesh, his thumbs spreading my cheeks, exposing me to his gaze in a way that is shockingly, thrillingly intimate. I can feel myself blush, a fresh wave of heat washing over me.
"God, look at you," he murmurs, his voice a low, rough rumble. "Fucking perfect."
He leans down and bites my ass, a sharp, playful nip that makes me yelp. He soothes the sting with a soft kiss, then licks a path from the base of my spine to the sensitive skin behind my knee.
I shudder, my whole body trembling with renewed need. I’m already slick again, my body responding to him with an eagerness that is both shocking and undeniable.
He stands between my spread legs, his hands gripping my hips, holding me in place. I can feel the broad head of his cock probing at my entrance, but he doesn't push in. He just teases, sliding the head up and down through my slick folds, coating himself in my arousal.
I make a desperate, needy sound, pushing back against him, trying to take him in.
One hand goes to my lower back, holding me still.
"Impatient, Doctor?" he taunts, his voice a low, dark chuckle that makes my core clench.
"Vito," I whimper, my hands fisting in the pillows. I'm so empty. I need him inside me. Now.
He pulls back a little more, and I hear a slick, wet sound behind me. I glance over my shoulder to see him gripping his own dick, watching me. He slowly pumps it a couple of times, spreading my wetness from my entrance all the way down.
"Hm," he says, "you do seem a little worked up."
Impatient, my ass. I'm going to have to have a word with whoever accused him of that, because the sheer control this man is exhibiting is nothing short of maddening.
The man is a monster.
His fingers slide between my legs, finding my clit. He starts to rub it in slow, maddening circles.
"Let's see if we can't do something about that."
I lift my ass instinctively, arching my back, offering myself to him. All my training, all my control, my carefully constructed professional persona has dissolved into a puddle of want.
This isn't about psychology anymore.
This isn't a chess match. This is pure need.
This is my body and his, a dance as old as time.
I am just… need.
And I am not the only one.
As he continues to work my clit, I can feel a tension radiating from him. The rhythm of his breath, the taut muscles in his thighs. He is as caught up in this as I am.
So much so that he suddenly stops rubbing me, and before I can make a sound of protest, he grips my hips and pushes me forward, sending me bodily to the center of the daybed.
The mattress dips as he climbs on behind me. He covers my body with his, trapping my thighs between his. His chest is against my back, hot and hard, and I can feel the rapid, heavy thud of his heartbeat. I am completely surrounded by him. Overwhelmed by him.
I push up onto my hands, trying to get some leverage, to press back against him, but he's just too big, too strong. He's a living, breathing wall of muscle, and he's holding me right where he wants me.
His cock is nestled between my ass cheeks. He moves against me, a slow, deliberate thrust, and the friction sends a bolt of pure lust straight to my core.
I feel one big hand on each cheek as he separates them so his dick can sink farther between them. Then, he rocks forward again. His dick slides over my puckered hole and my entrance. The deep rumble of my helpless groan fills the cabana.
He does it again, and my toes curl. I can't do anything but take it. Take this agonizingly slow torture.
"You have no idea what you do to me, Teresa," he whispers, then licks a stripe up the back of my neck. I shiver, my head dropping forward as I lose the battle against him. I am completely and utterly at his mercy.
He’s thrusting against me, again and again, a rhythm that is driving me insane. He’s not entering me, but the constant pressure, the friction against my most sensitive places is building a tension inside me that is almost unbearable.
Those large hands press my ass cheeks together as he thrusts harder between them. He groans loud and long.
"This ass is fucking perfect," he says, squeezing one of them a little too hard, making me gasp. "Look at the way it just swallows me up."
My mind goes completely blank at that. All I can process is the feel of him, the raw, masculine power of him, the dark, dirty words he’s whispering in my ear.
He’s not the quiet, reserved man I thought he was.
There’s a wildness in him, a darkness that calls to something equally wild and dark in me. Something I never knew existed.
He thrusts again, harder this time, and a choked sob escapes me. I’m so close. I can feel another orgasm building, a slow, heavy tide that is threatening to pull me under, and he's not even inside me. He's not even touching my clit.
"You want to come for me like this, don't you, Doctor?" he growls. "From my cock between your cheeks, rubbing against your tight little hole."
His words are obscene. Depraved.
And they are exactly what I need to hear.
"Yes," I gasp, the word torn from my throat. "God, Vito, yes."
He lets out a dark, triumphant chuckle. He continues to move against me, his thrusts becoming more powerful, more erratic.
The pressure on my clit is indirect, but it's enough.
The friction from his cock sliding against my entrance, the feel of him against my ass, the sheer dominance of the position—it's all coalescing into a perfect storm of pleasure.
He’s breathing hard against my neck, his control finally starting to fray. He’s as lost in this as I am.
"I'll give you a choice then, Teresa," he manages to grind out. "I keep going, and you come like this, right now. Or I stop and I fuck you properly." He punctuates the last three words with a hard thrust. "Your choice."
A choice?
He offers a choice as if I'm capable of rational thought. As if every nerve ending in my body isn't screaming, take me, take me, take me.
"Vito," I cry out.
"What's it going to be, Doctor?" he demands, his voice a harsh, ragged breath. "You get one or the other. Not both." He continues sliding against me, the pressure in me growing.