One of his hands lingered on my thighs, drawing soft circles higher and higher. The other reached up and dragged across my bottom lip, demanding entrance. He tilted my head back and pressed his thumb past my lips. I closed my mouth, swirling my tongue around his thumb until his hand gripped my thigh so hard I knew I was getting to him. I dragged my teeth along his knuckle and then bit down gently. He smirked and I shivered.
My senses were heightened, anxious about the unknown objects that lurked in the dark. I’d never seen Gianluca’s room in the light of day and now, lit only by fire and lightning, it was too dark to see anything beyond him. I trembled as he pulled his thumb out of my mouth and finished pulling my sopping dress off overhead.
Chilled air hit my skin and goosebumps bloomed as I stood there in nothing but my panties, wet from the rain.
His eyes dragged down my full breasts and tight stomach. I nearly closed the gap between us, but there was power in seduction, in loving my body enough to confidently show it off. His hands hit my waist and I let out a sigh. I’d wanted him to touch me higher, to palm my breasts and tease them in his palm, but he ignored them—on purpose.
He was on a different mission, slowly dropping to his knees before me.
“What—”
His hands gripped the back of my knees and I let my mouth hang open, my question forgotten. He blew warm air against the inside of my thigh and then pressed his lips there, repeating the gesture up the inside of my legs, higher and higher until I could reach down and grip his hair without much effort at all. At some point I’d squeezed my eyes closed, but I forced them open and looked down the slope of my body to where he knelt before me. The candle hardly reached him at that angle; I couldn’t see anything beyond my fingers strung through this thick strands. In the shadows, I had no way to prepare myself for the path he traced with his mouth. He moved up, kissing right below my navel, at the top of my wet panties. Then he slowly made his way down to one thigh, and then the other, tightening his circle with each round.
His mouth hit the groove of my inner thigh and then with one hand, he spread my legs apart another few inches, just enough space for him to lean up and press a kiss to the outside of my underwear. I was so thankful for the darkness; I didn’t want him to see how easily he’d stolen my composure.
I kept waiting for him to drag my panties down to the floor, but he used the silky material to his advantage, exhaling a warmth breath there and pushing the soft, wet material against me. My head fell back with the weight of his seduction. I’d barely processed another kiss when his finger hooked into my panties and he brushed them aside, baring me to him. There was no buffer, no way to steel myself against his kisses. His lips pressed against me and then his tongue dragged back and forth so…utterly…slowly. He used the tip to swirl soft circles, dragging me down, down, down, and then he backed off, lapping me up and down. The rhythm was deliberate and maddening. He swirled his tongue until I felt the waves of my orgasm start to crest, and then he squeezed the back of my thigh and moved away.
“Gianluca! You can’t… I have to…”
I felt his smirk against my hip and then his finger brushed up, replacing his tongue. It was such a sharp change. His tongue had been silky and soft. His finger was stiff and the pressure he applied was just what I needed. I rolled my hips forward to meet him, and he rewarded me by slipping his finger inside just enough to hit my most sensitive spot. He pressed in deeper and I tightened my grip on his hair, showing him that I needed more.
He added a second finger, delicately teasing them both into me as I exhaled a shaky breath. My stomach quivered. By then I was so turned on, he could have leaned forward and breathed on me and I would have come apart on his lips.
He knew it too. There was no end to the torture I endured before he let me come. He dragged his fingers in and out and swirled his tongue around me. He used his other hand to keep my hips still so I couldn’t rock against his mouth, not until he’d turned me absolutely mental, not until my pleas were slipping out, over and over. I begged him to give in and let me come and then when the fireworks trickled down my body from head to toe, and his mouth was on me and his fingers were fucking me, I shook like my life was ending, like that orgasm was the last thing I’d ever experience on Earth.
There was no more waiting.
I was done.
I told him to get a condom, ignoring the shaking in my voice, the way I was covered in sweat and rain and lust as he opened his bedside drawer and tore open the wrapper.
I didn’t let him lead us onto the bed. My appetite had turned carnal. I wanted to push and shove him, make him pay for torturing me like that, but any punishment for him would be worse for me. I gripped his shoulder, dug my nails into his skin, and pushed him to the floor. He was confused. Why would we fuck on the floor when the bed was right there, within reach?
Why?
Because I couldn’t stand it for one…more…second.
Because I needed him inside me and he’d oblige me because I deserved it after what I’d just endured, because he was about to come apart the way I had, and I wanted to straddle him on the hardwood floor with the rain pouring down until our tea candle burned out.
I tugged down his jeans, heavy and wet. When he was naked in the dark, splayed out on the floor, I brushed my palms from his ankles up to his chest, careful to avoid his hardness. I wanted him to experience the pain of anticipation, as I had. I kissed his chest and dragged my teeth down his abs. His muscles tightened and his hand reached up to grip my bicep. It was a warning to proceed cautiously and it lit a fire inside me.