Chapter 25 #2
"You're doing such a good job." He takes my mouth, his tongue delving between my lips, tasting me, devouring me, and it sends my already soaring arousal into the stratosphere.
My hands slide up his back, my fingers tangling in his hair, holding him to me. I'm lost in a haze of pleasure as he picks up the pace a little, moving faster but not harder. Each slide of his cock in me sends pleasure searing through me and makes me want more.
So much more.
He shifts his angle slightly, and the next thrust makes me cry out, a pleasure so intense it borders on pain. It's a different sensation than anything I've ever felt, a deep, internal pleasure that seems to come from my very soul.
He does it again, and I can't stop the moan that escapes my lips.
"Right there," I pant. "Oh, God, right there."
He chuckles, a rumbling laugh that goes straight to my clit. "Found it, didn't I?"
He hits that spot again, and again, and again, a slow rhythm that's driving me insane.
My inner walls start to flutter, my body tensing, the tell-tale signs of an approaching orgasm.
But I'm not ready. I want this to last forever. I want to stay in this perfect, agonizing state of arousal for as long as I can.
"Vito," I plead, my hips bucking when his fingers press harder on my clit.
"I can feel how close you are," he says. "Don't fight it. Just let go."
"No," I protest. "Not yet." The protest is weak, and I know it.
"Why not?" he asks, but he's not just asking. He's also driving into me a little faster, hitting that spot with every stroke.
"I want... I want..." I don't know what I want. More of this. Less of this. I'm so confused, so overwhelmed.
He must see the conflict in my face, because he slows down, going back to those slow, shallow thrusts.
The relief is so profound that I sag against the bed, my body limp.
"Tell me what you want, Teresa," he says, his voice gentle. "I can't read your mind."
I look up at him, at the concern in his eyes, the raw desire, and I'm struck by the sheer absurdity of this situation.
I'm telling the man who kidnapped me, the man who has already subjected me to multiple brutal fuckings at this point, who I apparently trusted to take my ass for the very first time, that I'm not ready for it to be over, that I want him to stay there longer, draw it out.
The thought is so ridiculous, so contrary to everything I thought I knew about myself, that a laugh bubbles up, escaping my lips.
His eyes widen in surprise, then amusement crosses his face.
"What's so funny?" he asks.
"I don't know," I gasp, the laughter shaking my body. "Everything. This. You. Me."
My laughter turns to a moan as he circles my clit again, making my hips jerk.
"I'm not laughing at you," I add quickly.
"I'm glad to hear it," he says. "Because I don't think I could take it."
"Just a little longer," I plead.
"Unfortunately, sweetheart, this is as long as it gets," he jokes. "I am what I am."
I punch his arm playfully, but the movement sends a jolt of pleasure through me, and I moan again.
"I'm not talking about your dick, you arrogant bastard," I say. Then I think about it. "Well, I guess technically I am. But that's not what I meant."
He laughs, a real, actual laugh right in the middle of the most intense sex of my life, and it makes my heart do a funny little flip. This has definitely been a unique experience.
"I know what you meant," he says, still grinning. "Normally, that would be fine, but it's your first time. I don't want to do too much.”
But I'm not a normal girl. And this is not a normal situation.
"I can take it," I say, my voice firm with a sudden, surprising resolve.
He searches my face, his eyes probing, looking for any sign of doubt. He doesn't find any.
"I'm sure you can," he says. "But I'm not going to hurt you. Not like that." I can see the sincerity in his eyes. He's being honest.
And I trust him. I really do.
But I also want more. I want to see how far I can go. I want to see how much I can take.
"I don't think you will," I say. "I want to see what it feels like." I hesitate, then add, "Please."
"What? You think this is going to be the last time? You think you're getting away from me now?" he says, almost like a warning. "We've got weeks left on this island. You and I are going to do this again. And again. And again. By the end, you'll be taking me like a pro."
He leans down and whispers against my lips: "In all your holes."
He thrusts his tongue into my mouth, then drags it down my chin, all the way to the base of my throat.
I swallow, hard.
Is he saying what I think he's saying? That he wants me to take him... all the way down my throat? I've never done that either. I've always been a bit of a gagger. And honestly, the few times I've tried, it hasn't been that great for me.
But with him the thought is... intensely arousing.
"I felt that," he murmurs, his finger dipping into my pussy. "You liked that idea, didn't you? The idea of me filling your throat?”
I can only nod, my throat too tight to speak. My brain short-circuits at the thought of him in my throat and in my ass, and my body clenches down on him, my inner walls gripping him like a vise.
"Jesus, Teresa," he groans. "You're going to make me come."
I moan, my hips rocking against his hand. “Come,” I pant.
"You really are a bad, bad girl, Doctor,” he says. "And I'm going to have so much fun showing you just how dirty you can be."
"Promise?" I ask, my voice a little shaky.
He pulls back, and a slow, devious grin spreads.
As an answer, he straightens up and puts my legs on his shoulders, then starts to move. Slowly at first, then a little faster, a little harder.
I'm so open, so vulnerable, so completely and utterly at his mercy. And I love it.
The pain is a distant memory, replaced by a deep pleasure that builds with every thrust.
The new angle lets him go deeper, and I cry out, a pleasure so intense it borders on pain. He's hitting that spot again.
"Vito," I pant, my hands clutching at the sheets. "Oh, God, Vito."
"Say my name again," he demands, his fingers digging into my hips. "Let me hear who's fucking you."
"Vito," I cry out, my back arching off the bed. "Vito, Vito, Vito." His name becomes a desperate, prayerful chant on my lips.
He picks up the pace, but keeps the light pressure, careful not to hurt me. Every thrust sends a fresh wave of pleasure through me, and my toes curl.
His fingers find my clit again, and he rubs it.
"Don't stop," I plead, thrashing my head side to side. "Please don't stop."
"I won't," he promises, his thrusts becoming faster, but still gentle. "I'm going to make you come so hard you forget everything but my name."
My inner walls start to flutter, my body tenses, the pleasure knotted deep in my belly about to snap.
Vito holds my hips steady and presses deep into me, and I know that's it. For that one moment, I took him all.
Even though he said I wouldn't this first time, that was obviously just a reassurance, so I didn't freak out at the thought of it.
The thought of him being fully inside me, plus his relentless finger on my clit is what sends me flying over the edge.
A scream rips from my throat, raw and primal. My back arches off the bed, a bow pulled taut, and I'm lost in a blinding, shattering wave of pleasure that rips through me, stealing my breath, my sight, my very sanity.
My body convulses, my ass clenching around his thick cock. My world narrows to the feeling of him inside me, to the pleasure that's consuming me from the inside out.
It's endless, a pleasure so intense it's almost agony, and I never want it to stop.
I feel him follow me over the edge, his body tensing, a low groan tearing from his throat as he presses deep and spills himself inside me, a hot, wet flood that seems to go on forever.
And then, it's over.
I collapse onto the bed, my body spent, my mind numb. Vito collapses on top of me, his weight welcome and comforting.
We lie there for a long time, our bodies slick with sweat and oil, our breathing ragged, our hearts pounding a frantic, wild rhythm.
I've never felt so connected to another person in my entire life.
It's a terrifying thought.
He shifts slightly, then slowly, gently, he pulls out of me. I wince at the sudden emptiness.
He rolls off me, then pulls me into his arms, tucking my head under his chin. I'm exhausted, my body pleasantly well-used and aching. I'm sticky and sweaty and utterly sated.
And I've never felt better in my entire life.
"You okay?" he murmurs against my hair.
I nod, my throat too tight to speak. I'm not okay. I'm so much more than okay. I'm ruined for any other man. I'm ruined for myself. I don't know how I'm ever going to go back to my old life after this. After him.
"Say something," he says, a hint of concern in his voice. "You're scaring me."
I take a deep breath, then let it out in a slow, shaky sigh. "I'm fine," I whisper. "I'm just... processing."
"Processing what?" he asks. "The fact that you loved getting your ass fucked?"
My cheeks heat, and I try to pull away, but he holds me tight.
"Don't be shy," he says, his lips brushing against my forehead. "It was hot as hell. You were hot as hell."
I hold tense for a second. "Really?"
"Are you kidding me?" he says. "Seeing you like that... taking me... letting go... it was the hottest fucking thing I've ever seen."
A fresh wave of heat washes over me, and I bury my face in his chest. I'm not used to this kind of praise, this kind of raw, unfiltered honesty. It's intoxicating.
"You're a mess," he says, his hand stroking my back.
"So are you," I mumble against his damp chest.
He chuckles. "Yeah, but pretty mild compared to you. You're sticky, sweaty, well-fucked, and coated in my come. Inside and out."
My blush deepens. He's right. I am a mess. But I don't care. I feel... liberated. Free.
I give a small shrug. "Maybe I like it," I whisper.
His hold on me tightens, and I can feel his cock, already starting to harden against my stomach. "Jesus, Teresa," he groans. "Don't say shit like that unless you're ready to go again."
I'm exhausted. Every muscle in my body aches, and it’s full dark outside now.
But the thought of doing it again... of him inside me... sends a fresh jolt of lust through my body.
I push myself up, my hair falling in a tangled mess around my face. I look down at him, at the dark, burning desire in his eyes, and I know, with a certainty that scares the hell out of me, that we're not done.
Not even close.
I lean down and take his mouth in a deep kiss that’s a promise of things to come.
His hands slide down my back, cupping my ass, pulling me closer. I can feel the hard length of him pressed against my stomach, a potent, powerful reminder of what he's capable of.
I want him. Again. I want all of him. In every way possible.
I pull away from the kiss, a little breathless. "Promise?" I say again, my voice husky.