Chapter 46
Daisy Peonia Mary Parker
La Sorgente Beach
Reggio Calabria, Calabria, Italy
It was wrong and cruel, yet it was all I wanted in that moment.
My mouth on his, my legs wrapped around his waist, his erection pressing between my legs, and the heat of his bare torso against my skin.
I wanted that. I needed that. To feel him close to me, to absorb him as if my life depended on it.
Afterward, he could despise me again. Shatter my heart once more.
“Camillo…” I gasped against his lips. “Please…” I begged, grinding my hips against the bulge in his swim trunks.
He understood my plea immediately.
With a quick movement, he pushed the fabric of my bikini bottom aside. I felt the tip of his penis pressing against my opening. My body ached, craving his touch. He pushed inside, and I buried my face in his neck to stifle a moan.
It took my walls a few moments to accommodate him. He was big, stretching every part of me in width and length. When he began to move, the waves rocked us, and I dug my nails into the skin of his back, holding on and moaning softly.
The thrusts were deep, slow, a rhythm that increased the pressure in my lower abdomen. Desperate to feel more of him, I cast caution aside and shed my bikini top, brushing my bare chest against his.
I didn’t care if anyone saw us. I didn’t care about what people thought anymore. If someone showed up and caught us, I didn’t think I’d even feel ashamed.
Camillo picked up the pace and his arms held me tight. His breath was ragged against my ear. His penis stretched my entrance, mixing pleasure with heat.
The pressure built, and in that moment he bit my ear, making me curl my toes and whimper against the skin of his neck. I was almost there.
Sensing the shift, his hands slid down to my buttocks, lifting me before each thrust, making the strokes long and deep. “Come for me, Piccola Furetta.”
I moaned and arched my body, exposing my bare breasts to his eyes, clinging to his neck with my hands so I wouldn’t fall.
He took one of my nipples between his teeth and thrust deep, making me throw my head back.
With my hair submerged in the water and his penis buried deep inside me, spasms of pleasure shook me, and my walls tightened around him, claiming him.
“Perfetta.” He purred and began moving again, deep thrusts that made me whimper with pleasure, until with a grunt, he buried himself all at once—deep, abrupt, delicious—and came inside me, filling me with his heat.
When he was done, he pulled me up toward him, holding me in an embrace. We stayed like that for a long time, alone on that beach. Rocked by the waves and in each other’s arms.
And I believed that there was an ‘us’ there that could last forever. That could change everything.