I unrolled the condom and slid it on. He inhaled through his teeth when my small hand wrapped around him, stroking up and down, ensuring he was more than ready for me. I moved up onto my knees and hovered over him. I held him there beneath me, so close I could have slid down onto him, pushing him inside.
But I held off, tempting him through my panties. He was so hard, unmistakably long and thick. He let out a hoarse moan and I smirked, feeling powerful as I took more control, rolling my hips in a soft circle as I continued my little lap dance. I used the silky material I wore to slide back and forth along his length. His hands found my hips and squeezed, trying to still me. He stayed silent, but I heard every word he didn’t say in those heavy breaths, in his soft moans, in the deep growl as I finally brushed my underwear aside and positioned him at my entrance. I’d come to know his body these past few weeks and he knew mine, but this, him slowly sliding his length into me was wholly earth-shattering.
It was then that he stole the reins from me once again. I’d have pushed down onto him completely, felt him stretch me until I broke, but he teased me with shallow, deepening thrusts. I stayed sitting up, propping my hands on his chest as he lifted his hips off the ground. Each time he pulled back, he sank in another inch deeper, until finally our hip bones met and I felt him inside of me, every delicious inch. He let out a pained sigh and we fell into an erotic rhythm.
My second orgasm came quicker than its predecessor. The fire had already been set, and with him inside me, there was no shortage of fuel. Slow thrusts turned quicker. Hands dug into flesh. Moans turned hurried and wild. With me on top, I should have been in control, but he stole the show. I collapsed on top of him, breathing heavily against his neck as he held my hips and thrust into me, faster and harder than before. I could only grip his shoulders and cling on. He moved too fast for me to keep up and then he made it all but impossible when he started to whisper delicious things against the shell of my ear, moaning about how tight and warm I felt around him, how good I made him feel. He wanted me to come again like that, with him rocking up into me, and when he let go of my hip with one hand and dropped it between my legs, I knew I would. It only took a few brushes of his thumb against me, hardly half a dozen circles and I shattered on top of him.
To come against Gianluca’s mouth was amazing, but with him unraveling inside me, there was no going back. I’d never stop chasing that high.
We eventually moved to the bed. He tossed aside the used condom. We told each other we would lie still for a few minutes and rest, but those promises barely left our lips before Gianluca’s hand brushed up to cup my breast. He made it out to be romantic. He said he just wanted to feel me, but I couldn’t stop the wildfire from erupting once more.
It wasn’t long before he took me again, this time with my face turned down into the pillows so they could muffle my cries. Gianluca positioned himself behind me and reshaped a position of one-sided dominance into an intimate act of lovemaking. He took his time spreading my legs, dragging his hands up over my hips and down the curve of my bottom. He caressed every inch of my skin until he hovered right over the center of me. He leaned back and I knew he was just looking at me. I was glad for the pillow so he couldn’t see how red my cheeks had gone. It was such a personal gift to let someone see every inch of you. Eventually he moved closer, teasing me with his fingertips, spreading my thighs just enough for him to position himself between them. His chest pressed against my back and his fingers laced through mine beside my ribs. He propped himself up on his knees and gently fucked me like that until I was writhing beneath him.
It was the most delicious night of my life and though I was sad when exhaustion started to overpower my desire to have him for a fourth time, he didn’t let me wallow. I was lying flat on top of him with my eyes closed, half-asleep with a pleasant little smile lingering on my lips.
Gianluca was drawing circles on my back when he asked if I was still awake.
“Barely,” I whispered. “Don’t even think about moving those hands lower though.”
I could feel his smile against my shoulder.
“I won’t, for now…”
I let out a greedy sigh and settled back into him, glad for the extra warmth. Even though my body was ready for sleep, my mind needed a few minutes to wind down. I listened to the rain clattering on the tile roof, Gianluca’s steady breathing behind me. I thought he’d already drifted off when he spoke again, his voice hardly more than a whisper.
“Do you remember me telling you about the winds when we were out on the boat?”
I hummed, sure that I was asleep, in a dream. “The ones from Africa that bring the rain.”
“And the ones from the north? They clear the skies. Do you remember that?”
“Tramontana,” I replied, quite proud of myself for remembering the name.
He squeezed me tighter and pressed a kiss to my neck.
THE NEXT MORNING, I awoke alone in Gianluca’s bed to the sound of chatter downstairs. I recalled him kissing me earlier, trying to draw me out of sleep. I’d groaned and pulled the covers up over my head, begging for a few more minutes. He’d obliged, and I had no clue how much longer I’d slept after that. The level of noise downstairs made me think it’d been a few hours.
I stretched and pushed the covers down, turning to Gianluca’s bedside table to find a clock. There was a stack of books and a turned-down picture frame. I reached to flip it over and then jerked away as if it’d burned me. The frame clattered back down onto the bedside table and I bristled at the sound of glass cracking. I’d accidently split it down the middle.