42. Andrea
CHAPTER 42
Andrea
FIVE YEARS LATER
W hen I wake up with his fingers buried inside me, I moan.
“Savio,” I keen.
“Be quiet,” he croons. “Your parents will hear.”
Dazedly, I blink as he rolls me onto my front, hitches me higher on the camp bed, then feasts on my pussy. All these years later, he still has a God-tier level oral fixation.
That is not a complaint.
My eyes close as he sucks on my clit, dragging a soft grunt from me before I bury my teeth in my forearm.
I bite down harder when he runs his tongue through my folds, lapping up my juices and humming in delight as he does.
My hips rock as I ride his face, my inner thighs tightening around his head as I take my pleasure.
I already know he was stroking me while I slept because I’m soaking and so close to coming, his mouth is more of a tease than anything else.
When two fingers thrust into me, I bite the flesh between my teeth harder. I’ve come to associate the pain with pleasure— if you can’t beat them, join them—so it has every muscle in my body clenching as I ride the bubble of release when he pops it.
The next thing I know, his cock tunnels into my pussy. He pushes past the tensing muscles that are still twitching from an orgasm and doesn’t stop until he’s deep inside me.
When his body comes to rest on my back, both hands shift beneath me. One heads to my stomach, the other to my clit. When he rubs my clit, I gasp around my forearm, especially as he keeps his thrusts shallow.
Blindly, I stare at the canvas in front of me. The light from the campfire has flickered out, but the reminder that we’re not alone, that the whole family is here is no deterrent from the feelings he’s dragging out of me.
With a garbled murmur, I bite down harder, unsurprised when the tang of blood hits my tongue.
I try to hide my moan, but ultimately, I fail. He pinches my clit in punishment and the harsh pain triggers another climax.
As my body jerks in time to the pulses of agonizing release, he pulls a trick from his repertoire where he palpates my stomach, something that he only does after a nightmare.
I can feel the pressure building, know that my body is responding to his touch how he’s trained it to, and as he fucks me through first one peak, and then a second, I release my hold on my forearm.
“Savio,” I gasp. “I can’t stay q-quiet?—”
“You have to,” he growls, the words almost noiseless, his voice so deep.
Sometimes, I wish sex could be noisy. Wish I could scream. But then the intensity of being with him takes over any desire I have for that because the silence supercharges everything.
Our smell.
The taste.
The sounds of our breathing.
For all that, a soft whimper escapes me. When his mouth finds the curve of my throat, I’m not surprised when he bites down—it’s a punishment, but it’s too good to feel bad.
My pussy clamps around him, tightening to the point where I know I’ll be sore tomorrow as another orgasm ricochets around my nervous system.
I gulp down air in an effort to remain silent when, with one final palpation, the pressurized burst of liquid squirts from me. I sag into the sleeping bag, muscles like goo, the ones in my stomach and thighs even twitching as my nerves go into rebellion.
When he pumps his cum into me, his panting breath the only noise he makes, another softer whimper drifts from my lips.
He doesn’t tense, lost to his own release, but I do. That tiny sound triggers a shockwave. Mostly because I know it’s forbidden.
Limp as spaghetti, I lie sprawled out with him above me, uncaring that I’m in the wet spot, just boneless.
Then, he laps at my forearm, his tongue swirling over the teeth marks where I burrowed them deep to stay silent.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers between licks, making me shiver.
“No need,” I mumble, flopping my free arm on the squelchy sleeping bag as that’s all I’m capable of. “You’kay?”
“Bad dream.”
I sigh. “Dad?”
“He saw my back earlier.”
Why I agreed to go camping with my parents and his in Yellowstone when we have our own goddamn forest is beyond me. I knew I shouldn’t have. The only perk is that they’re dealing with the kids tonight.
“How?” He always covers up.
“Lifted my shirt to wipe sweat off my face.”
“He confronted you about it?” I’ll kill him.
“It’s fine.”
“It gave you a nightmare,” I growl, outrage giving my muscles enough strength to twist onto my side.
“I promise, I’m okay. It was unexpected, that’s all.”
I cup his chin. “You used the lash before we left.”
“Yeah, he freaked out. How do you always know when I do it in the barn?—”
“You carry yourself differently afterward.”
And I’m not talking about hobbling to shield the pain—he bounces around like he has helium in his feet.
He sighs. “I wish I didn’t need to do it still.”
I don’t say that I agree. Even though I wish for the same thing. “Give it time, my darling.”
He rubs his nose over mine. “You taste like paradise.”
A smile curves my lips. “I enjoy being woken up like that.”
“I’m glad,” he says simply, though I know he’s uncomfortable despite me giving him explicit consent to find solace in me after a night terror. I’m only shocked I didn’t wake up sooner, but after a long day of hiking, I’m beat. “I love you.”
“I love you too. Three more days.”
He snorts. “Your family isn’t that bad.”
I’m lucky he thinks so.
“They’re a nightmare,” I grouse. “Dad treats you like you’re a bum. It pisses me off.”
By contrast, Giuseppe and Lilith are absolute sweethearts! How he puts up with my folks is anyone’s guess.
“I am one.”
“No. You’re not. You work on the farm. You help me. You raise the kids. You make dinner?—”
“Your father’s traditional,” he appeases. “I don’t contribute financially to our household.”
“I don’t need you to. I just. Need. You .”
His lips brush over mine. “You have me.”
“Your mother thanked me today.”
“What for?”
“Bringing her baby boy back to her.”
“I stopped being her baby a long time ago.”
“Will Roman, Arabella, or Thiya ever stop being our babies?”
“No,” he grumbles.
“Well then, shut your face.” When he snorts, I grin.
“I’ll shut my face if you kiss me. How about that?”
“I love you,” I say once he lets me up for air, wishing I could ink the words onto his bones.
“I love you too.” Another kiss. “Now, go to sleep.”
“Sir, yes, sir.”
He snickers. “Smart ass.”
I wiggle said smart ass against him.
“Don’t tempt me,” he rumbles.
“I was born to tempt you, darling,” I whisper in return, smiling smugly when his dick hardens and he sighs.
“I’m too fucking old for this.”