Chapter 18 Evi
EVI
Sweet electricity zings between my thighs, and at first, I think I’m dreaming about the way Sandro went down on me last night.
The sinful pleasure of his tongue stroking my seam, teasing my entrance.
The delicious graze of his teeth across my clit.
The world looks dark beneath my blindfold.
My body strains for more delicious pleasure—only my hands meet no resistance when I try to bring them down to his thick locks that lightly brush my abdomen, tickling the sensitive skin.
I gasp as my eyes fly open.
I’m awake.
And Sandro’s face is actually buried between my thighs, his strong arms wrapped around them, his hands spreading me wide. He’s hidden beneath the sheets, but I’m dying to see him in the bright light of day, and I throw back the covers.
Thick muscles ripple along his spine, his arms and shoulders thick and bulging as he casts a lazy glance up the length of my body to meet my eyes. And smiles.
The groan that wrenches from me is deep and filled with need, and I drop my head back onto my pillow as a wave of pleasure washes through me. The spine-tingling sensation makes my head spin, and my clit throbs against his lips as Sandro coaxes another whimper from me.
It’s shockingly exciting to have his face somewhere so intimate, and while he tempted me with it last night as well, I was so anxious about the impending punishment, I didn’t have the ability to fully appreciate just how good it feels.
But God, his lips are shockingly soft and inviting, his tongue warm and soothing as he laps my throbbing flesh.
I might be sore from all the sex we’ve had, but that doesn’t seem to be an issue with the gentle attention he’s lavishing me with now.
“Sandro,” I moan, my fingers curling in his hair, and I want to pull him closer but don’t know if I should.
As if sensing my desire, he presses forward, his tongue laving my folds with renewed vigor, his teeth nipping lightly at my clit and sending a zing of punishing pleasure crackling up my spine.
My brain is still foggy with sleep, but that only seems to intensify the giddy relief of having his warmth nestled between my thighs.
Sandro hums softly, the sound somewhere between approval and appreciation—as if I taste as wonderful as a Michelin-star meal. My walls clench, eager to have him inside me, and my breath catches, my back arching as the tension inside my core snaps taut.
“Oh God, Sandro!” I cry, my thighs quivering as I climb toward that precipice of oblivion my husband can bring me to so easily it makes my head spin.
“Come for me, Sunshine,” he commands, his lips brushing across my clit, his hot breath washing over my skin. And I’m helpless to disobey him.
My fingers fist in his hair as my muscles clench, and a burst of euphoria blasts through me like the aftershock of an atom bomb.
I cry out, twitching uncontrollably in his powerful grasp as my clit throbs, my channel spasming despite its emptiness.
I pant and moan, riding the waves of pleasure that leave me a breathless puddle in the bed.
And as they slowly subside, I open my eyes only to be rewarded with Sandro’s wicked smile.
“Good morning,” he rasps, releasing my thighs to crawl between them and brush a soft, tangy kiss across my lips.
“Morning,” I murmur, heat flooding my cheeks at the bold way he claimed my pleasure.
I think that might be my new favorite way of waking up.
And even though I’ve only just come, I’m greedy for more of Sandro’s attention.
But rather than take things to the next step, he rolls off of me, seeming ready to be done with the fun as he rises from the bed and pulls on a pair of joggers.
My heart sinks, the disappointment instantaneous and overwhelming, and I pull the sheets up around my breasts, covering my body as I sit up in bed.
“Don’t you… want to come?” I ask, trying not to sound like I’m pouting.
Sandro turns, his hematite eyes inscrutable as he studies my expression.
Then a soft twitch lifts one side of his mouth into a subtle smirk.
Leaning back over the bed, one palm braced on the mattress so he’s hovering above me, Sandro slides his other hand beneath the sheets to find the slick wetness coating the insides of my thighs.
He presses one thick, calloused finger inside of me, and I gasp as the throbbing ache intensifies, sending a shiver up my spine.
He must catch the subtle flinch that flickers across my face as a twinge accompanies the pleasure, because just as gently, he slides his finger back out of me and leans in to press another kiss to my lips.
“You need to take a break. We’ve been going at it a lot, and even if you haven’t complained, I know you must be sore. I don’t want to hurt you. That’d ruin all the fun…”
It’s far more considerate—compassionate, even—than I had expected, and the fact that he could know I’m sore tells me he’s far more in tune with my needs than I realized or could ever have imagined.
Still, I’m sad I can’t return the favor after he woke me so incredibly.
“Okay,” I concede, failing miserably to hide the disappointment in my tone.
Eyes dancing, Sandro chuckles as he straightens, and the deep, gravely sound makes my core melt. I don’t get to hear it often, but the sound seems to be hardwired directly to my libido, because it only makes me want him more.
“Well, if you want to give me a hand job in the shower… I wouldn’t say no,” he says, his voice playful.
But the thought of it makes my stomach clench with excitement. I’ve never given a hand job before, but one of the things I love about Sandro is his willingness to teach me. And my heart flutters at the idea of being able to watch him come without the distraction of my own release.
Jumping out of bed faster than my feet are prepared for, I trip excitedly to his side, ready for my next lesson in pleasure. Sandro’s crooked grin appears in full force, the sight of it shattering my composure, and I stumble into him, my body melting as his arm wraps around my waist to catch me.
Then he pulls me close, leaning in until his lips are a hair’s breadth from mine. “So eager,” he breathes, unleashing goosebumps all along my arms and back before he kisses me breathless.
He slowly walks me backward, his fingers gathering the fabric of my black slip to pull it up over my head.
I’m naked in an instant, my skin alive with sensation as my feet find the cool tiles of the bathroom floor.
I catch the sound of water hitting the shower walls, but Sandro doesn’t break the kiss for an instant as he prepares it.
His joggers brush my thighs as he strips them last, then guides me into the steam with his hands on my hips.
“I don’t… I’ve never done this before,” I admit, peering up at Sandro shyly when he pulls me close.
The fire in his gaze makes my stomach quiver.
“How are you so innocent?” he murmurs, and I can’t tell from his tone if he thinks it’s a good thing or bad.
Is he getting tired of teaching me everything? “I’m sorry.”
Sandro releases an almost pained groan as he cups my chin, tilting it up to brush my lips with his. “Never. Apologize,” he commands between kisses.
Then he releases me, his hands falling to my shoulders and sliding down my arms to take my wrists.
“Hold it. Like this,” he explains, molding my fingers around the base of his cock so I’m gripping it. “You’ll need to use both hands,” he adds, placing my second hand above my first.
Even with both my hands stacked, I don’t cover the full length of him, and I watch in fascination as his thick erection twitches against my palms. Sandro’s hands cover mine, enveloping them completely as he shows me the amount of pressure he likes.
“Then you stroke, like this,” he instructs, moving my hands up and down with his.
My pulse skyrockets, a deep throb returning between my thighs as I watch what we’re doing.
It so hot, seeing the way his cock thickens at my touch.
A pearly drop of liquid beads at the tip, and I swallow hard, my tongue darting out to wet my dry lips.
I want to touch it, but I hesitate, unsure if he would like that.
“Yeah, just like that,” Sandro groans, releasing my hands to give me full control.
He steps closer, his arms crowding me as he backs me against the slick shower wall, and he braces against it with his palms as he watches what I’m doing.
“Like this?” I whisper, finding a rhythm and gripping him with more confidence. Then, before I can chicken out, I roll my thumb over the tip of his cock, spreading the pearly liquid.
It’s slick and soft and makes his skin shockingly silky—and it makes the pulsing heat between my thighs almost unbearable. A sharp hiss rushes between Sandro’s lips, and his neck bows, his forehead finding my shoulder.
“God, yes,” he growls.
The need in his voice is like a lightning bolt straight to my core, and even though he hasn’t laid a finger on me, I can feel the familiar snap of tension deep in my core, warning me that I’m nearing climax.
I can’t make myself come just from Sandro’s pleasure, can I?
That seems unlikely, but the sense of empowerment it gives me to know I alone am responsible for Sandro’s this time makes the blood pump hot and thick through my veins.
If this is what he feels like when he goes down on me, I suddenly don’t feel so bad anymore.
Because I can almost feel the pleasure building within him, and it thrills me—no, more than that, it turns me on.
Sandro’s arms flex, his pecs and abs bulging as the muscles strain beneath his inked skin. I can hear the grind of his teeth as he clenches his jaw so close to my ear, and I wonder if it’s hard for him to give up control like this, to let me be in charge of his pleasure.
His breaths come faster, more ragged, and mine increase with his as my arm muscles start to burn—and the anticipation of his release threatens to consume me.
He drops one hand from the wall, his fingers finding my hip and pressing into the skin. Then his hand slides lower, following the curve of my butt.
“Let go, Evi,” he rasps, and I do, unsure of what to expect but so caught up in the moment, I don’t even think to question him.
Then Sandro’s hand finds the back of my knee and he hikes it up, hooking my thigh over his hip as he guides his swollen tip forward to find my throbbing entrance. I gasp as the thrusts inside me, the penetration sudden and spine-tinglingly deep.
I can feel the hot seed he spills inside me, the way his cock throbs and pulses as he stays buried in my depths, and the erotic sensation launches me right over the edge into oblivion.