Chapter 12 #3
He kicks off his trousers, and his length springs free, so thick, so heavy, veins pulsing. The tip glistens. My breath catches. I lick my lips, my core tightening at the sight of him. He's all strength and raw need.
I reach for him, but he’s faster, grabbing my wrists and pinning them above my head as he pushes me against the wall. My back hits the wall with a soft thud. The plaster is cool against my back, his body hot and hard against mine. The contact sends a jolt through me.
His length brushes my thigh. It's warm and firm, and I moan brokenly, my hips arching toward him. His lips graze my ear, breath hot. He thrusts his tongue into the inner part of my ear where the aid doesn't touch, and I shudder against the onslaught of pleasure.
He releases my wrists, and I’m on him, fingers clutching his shoulders as I kiss him again, wildly, desperately.
I taste the salt of his skin. His hands grip my hips, lifting me, and I wrap my legs around his waist. My panties rub against his bare length.
The lace is soaked. I push into him, sliding against him to feel the sensation again.
He groans, his fingers digging into my skin, leaving marks I’ll feel tomorrow.
He carries me to the bed, and drops me onto the sheets.
It's cool against my heated skin. He grabs a pillow, and tucks it under my hips.
My body trembles. I spread my thighs, bold and wanting.
He kneels between them, eyes locked on my core as he hooks his fingers into my panties and tears them off, the fabric splitting with a soft rip.
I’m exposed, my core wet and glistening. He stares, and then puts his face near it. I squirm. “Liliana,” he murmurs, his voice vibrating against the pulsating heating. I shudder.
Before I can catch my breath, he puts his mouth on me. It's hot and urgent, his tongue licking a slow, deliberate path up my center.
I gasp, my hips bucking, hands fisting the sheets as pleasure sparks through me. He sucks gently, lips teasing the sensitive bud, and my vision blurs, a soft moan escaping me.
His hands pin my thighs wide, his fingers pressing into my skin.
He tastes me deeply, tongue swirling, the wet sounds loud and intimate.
I’m trembling, my hips moving against his mouth, chasing the warmth building inside me.
It's overwhelming and new. My fingers find his hair, yanking, desperate for something to ground me.
He pulls back, lips shining with my essence. I whimper, missing his touch. He climbs over me, his length dragging along my thigh, leaving a warm trail. I reach for him, fingers wrapping around his shaft, feeling its weight, its heat. His breath snags.
He’s firm, pulsing in my hand. I stroke him, my hand slow and tentative. I watch the way his jaw tightens. His eyes flutter shut. “Liliana,” he groans.
It fills me with a sense of awe, that I'm the one who gets him this way. For now, forever, he's mine. Mine alone.
I adjust slightly, guiding his shaft to my entrance.
My legs open wider, inviting him. He strokes himself once, twice, then lines up at my entrance.
He doesn’t pause. There is none of the hesitation of that first time.
He pushes into me in one deep, slow thrust. There's no barrier whatsoever, just his warmth filling me, stretching me.
I gasp, the fullness intense, my walls fluttering around him, adjusting to his size. My body is still so new to this.
He moves slowly at first, each thrust deep and deliberate. The bed creaks softly. My breasts sway, nipples aching, and he cups one, thumb brushing the peak. It sends a jolt through me.
I moan softly, my core clenching around him, wet and warm. His thrusts quicken, harder now, each one sending pleasure rippling through me, my body rocking with his rhythm. I wrap my legs around his hips, pulling him closer.
He groans, leaning down to kiss my neck, lips hot and sucking, leaving marks that burn in the best way. My hands clutch his back, my nails scraping across the skin. He moves faster, deeper, hitting a spot inside me that makes me cry jerk, my vision sparking.
Giovanni, I sign, hands trembling. He watches me, his eyes fierce, as I touch his chest, feeling his heartbeat race.
My core is slick, gripping him. He growls, his thrusts growing feral.
I’m so full, his length stretching me, and I’m lost in it.
My body moves with his, chasing the heat building inside.
He grabs my thighs, lifting them higher, and the angle shifts.
His thrusts become deeper, more intense, each one a shock of pleasure that makes me gasp.
I twist my face into the sheets, my fingers finding the material and squeezing it.
He grabs my face, turning it to his. Look at me, he signs passionately. It's the most sexy thing I've ever seen. My eyes water.
I look at him, through the haze. And what I see there—possession, hunger, devotion—makes me feel undone.
I lift my hands to roam his back. I trace the raven tattoo, my fingers lingering on the inked wings. He shudders, his breath hot against my throat.
I slide a hand between us, finding the sensitive bud at my center, rubbing it softly. The sensation is overwhelming, my fingers slipping in my own wetness. I moan, and twist under him, my body tightening.
His eyes follow my hand, darkening, and he thrusts harder, the bed shaking, his length driving into me with a force that steals my breath. “That’s it, cara,” he murmurs, voice rough.
I rub faster, my core clenching, the pressure building like a tight coil ready to snap. My moans turn to whimpers, soft and desperate. My body trembles, the edge so close I can taste it.