32

MILLIE
As dawn began to cast a faint gray hue across New York’s cityscape, my awakening was met with the warmth of Gio’s body beneath me. The intimate contours of my bare chest pressed gently against his heated skin, the night having caused me to shift downwards, inadvertently bringing his rigid length into contact with my leg. A careful adjustment of my position allowed me to peer up at Gio’s visage. His features were peacefully tranquil in the embrace of slumber, a stark contrast to the turbulence and darkness that had emanated from him just the previous night.
Intrigue intertwined with a sense of apprehension gripped me. The male anatomy was an unfamiliar territory for me, and I harbored concerns about waking Gio from his restful state. Given his earlier admission, the last thing I desired was to provoke an unintended response. I attempted to cast a surreptitious glance over my shoulder, curious about his arousal, yet our alignment proved to be an impediment, demanding a neck-cracking effort to catch a glimpse.
Abruptly, the room was enlivened by the buzz of a device on the nightstand, causing Gio to jolt awake with surprising speed. In his swift motion, I let out a startled squeak, finding myself elevated alongside him. His arm found its place around my waist, steadying me, while his other hand reached for his mobile device. The new arrangement, however, had nudged me downward, aligning his aroused state with my own. It was as though his length nestled against my core, a sensation that triggered an odd amalgam of fluster and relief. The presence of my underwear was a small blessing, preserving a semblance of distance.
As tension coursed through me, I sensed Gio’s own stiffness, mirrored both in his body and his grasp on my waist. The mobile pressed to his ear, he engaged in a terse conversation, his tone raspily asserting his well-being and declining the need for medical intervention. With a decisive click, he ended the call, depositing the phone back onto the nightstand. His gaze, laden with intensity, fixed on me-an involuntary human ironing board in my state of stiffness.
A gradual, controlled descent saw Gio reclining once more. Straddling his hips, I sat upright, one arm discreetly veiling my breasts. The once-proximate erection was now avert, and I mustered the courage to reposition myself, swinging a leg over his hips. The motion, however, brushed his erection, eliciting a raw growl from Gio. Suppressed amusement danced within me as I observed his reaction, though I swiftly knelt beside him, the protective arm still draped across my chest.
Embarrassment warmed my cheeks as my gaze inevitably settled upon him, unveiling his arousal. The sheer size of him-long, substantial, and circumcised-left me without any frame of reference but surely surpassed my expectations. Harper’s gamble had indeed proven accurate.
A quiet confession erupted from Gio’s lips, his words carrying a mixture of playful exasperation and simmering desire. The exchange of gazes carried a hunger that lay dormant until that very moment. One of his hands traced the contours of his stomach while the other found respite above his head, highlighting the tautness of his physique. Overwhelmed by an unanticipated shyness, I dared another peek, an act met by Gio’s low rumble.
His subsequent words resonated with a deeper timbre, the tenor of his voice dipping as he sat up. The charged atmosphere brought our faces into close proximity, and his lips captured mine in a fervent kiss. My palm ventured hesitantly from his shoulder, descending a deliberate path across his chest to his abdomen. Gio’s touch paused against my lips, his desire evident in the tone that followed. The memory of the prior night’s conversation resurfaced, igniting a tantalizing undercurrent.
Recalling his earlier question, my voice wavered as I responded, my breath caught within the space between us. A simmering intensity colored his gaze, an intensity that beckoned my arm’s exposure. His fingers encircled my wrist, a tender yet commanding gesture that suspended time itself. In a deliberate motion, I lowered my arm, a shyness intertwining with vulnerability.
Gio’s eyes traced the contours of my form, caressing every curve with a gaze that radiated appreciation. A reassurance-simple and profound-found its voice through his words, bestowing upon me a rare moment of speechlessness. The tableau shifted, his hunger merging with the depths of his voice, while my own uncertainty lingered.
In a hushed cadence, he inquired about my readiness to reciprocate, his gaze an intoxicating blend of desire and tenderness. An affirmation danced through me, manifesting in a barely perceptible nod and a flicker of anticipation across my lips. The essence of empowerment was palpable as my fingertip ventured forth, making contact with his silken yet firm length. Gio’s breath hitched, the contours of his arms straining under the tension of his restraint. My exploratory touch brushed against the tip, marveling at its texture and the reactions it elicited.
An unfamiliar surge of control coursed through me as my fingers engaged in a deliberate dance of discovery. The hypnotic allure of his skin, the innate power to elicit such profound responses, resonated deeply.
A tremor coursed through Gio as my fingers made contact with his skin. His voice, low and tinged with desire, urged me on. “Take me in your hand,” he murmured, his words wrapping around the charged air.
Gingerly, I encircled his shaft with my fingers, apprehension shadowing my touch as I feared causing him pain. Slowly, I began a cautious motion, my hand descending and then ascending, each movement unraveling new sensations. Astonishment washed over me as his weight settled against my palm, an unexpected heaviness that spoke of an intimacy I was just beginning to explore.
Lounging back, Gio’s eyes remained on me, a silent spectator to my hesitance. My own gaze, however, shied away from his, an awkward vulnerability keeping me from meeting his intensity. The daring I had mustered moments ago seemed to dissolve, leaving only a blush of embarrassment in its wake.
“Go ahead, tighten your grip,” he urged softly after my tentative efforts had passed. Encouraged, I allowed my fingers to constrict.
“Firmer. Don’t worry, it’s not fragile,” he teased, his words a mix of reassurance and playfulness.
Heat rushed to my cheeks, and I averted my eyes, retracting my hand as if I’d somehow committed a blunder. “I didn’t want to cause you any discomfort,” I admitted, my mortification growing. It was a humiliating feeling, this uncertainty. Maybe Alyssa, his former lover, was better equipped for this task.
His voice, calm and grounding, broke through my self-consciousness. He drew me close, his touch a soothing balm for my shaken confidence. His lips found mine, a gentle pressure that held a promise of unwavering support. A trail of sensation followed his hand as it ventured from my arm to my hip and daringly lower, until his finger grazed the intimate contours beneath my underwear.
My breath hitched, stolen by the electric contact against my bare skin. His touch was a delicate dance, exploring and arousing in equal measure. He traced the outlines, dipped between moist folds, and caressed my most sensitive spot, igniting an involuntary moan that was muffled by his kiss. Pleasure surged within me as he circled my nub, each movement fanning the flames higher.
Breaking the kiss, he fixed his gaze upon me, his eyes a smoldering fire that matched the intensity building within. His voice, rough with desire, proposed a new challenge. “Ready to give it another try?” he rasped, a nod toward his hardened length indicating his intention.
His fingertip brushed over me again, sending waves of sensation that made coherent thought nearly impossible. Desire pulsed through me, a need that eclipsed any lingering embarrassment. With determination, I traced my hand along his muscular torso, my touch guided by a trail of dark hair that led to his arousal. My fingers curled around him, and his response was immediate-a twitch beneath my grasp.
Simultaneously, Gio’s fingers moved with an increasing urgency against my wetness. The rhythm he set left me breathless, though the fog of arousal muted my awareness of anything beyond the sensations coursing through me. He guided my grip, showing me the strength he desired, and together, our hands began a synchronized dance upon his shaft.