[Dawn]
The kiss is tantalizingly delicate.
Slow.
Heartfelt.
Our lips move in sync, tracing emotions too deep for words. Every kiss is deliberate, every brush of his lips against mine a promise. His hands explore the curve of my body, skimming the fabric of my dress in a way that makes me ache for more.
I can feel the tension in his touch-the restraint, the barely contained hunger. I want him to tear the dress from my body, just as I want to rip his suit off with the same fervor. But we hold out, the anticipation coiling tighter.
His lips trail from mine to my neck, tasting the line from my collarbone up to the sensitive skin behind my ear. When he nibbles at my earlobe, my knees nearly buckle. His hands find my zipper, teasing the line down my back with agonizing slowness.
I slip his jacket from his shoulders, and we both take our time undressing each other, savoring the unveiling. When I’m finally bare before him, his eyes darken, filled with something primal and reverent.
His erection points upward, unmistakable in its intent. The heat of his desire is palpable, radiating between us like a fire.
The lamp casts soft shadows along his sculpted body, each line and plane a testament to his strength. He steps forward and wraps me in his arms, pressing his rigid length against my stomach.
“Bambolina,” he breathes, the word like a caress.
As if we’re still on the dance floor, he spins me gently and lays me down on the bed.
The mattress is soft beneath me, but it’s nothing compared to the tenderness of his touch. His hands roam over my body, tracing my curves with a single finger.
He cups my breasts, his touch reverent, and lowers his head to take a nipple into his mouth. Heat flares through me, and a soft moan escapes my lips.
I reach for him, wrapping my hand around his cock, stroking him slowly. He groans softly, his breath hot against my skin.
Then he moves lower, his lips blazing a trail down my body, igniting every nerve ending. His mouth brushes over my thighs, the soft kisses driving me mad with anticipation.
When he finally reaches my heated center, his lips press against my pussy, and I gasp. His tongue flicks softly at my clit, teasing me with light, deliberate strokes.
“Bambolina,” he murmurs against me, his breath warm and tantalizing.
My hips buck, and he grips them firmly, holding me in place as his tongue begins to work its magic. The rhythm of his strokes-deliberate and unrelenting-has me spiraling.
He presses a finger inside me, curling it just so, while his tongue dances over my swollen bud. My breaths come faster, my body tightening as the waves of pleasure build.
“Aldo,” I whimper, clutching his hair and rocking against his face, unable to hold back.
His tongue moves faster, firmer, circling my clit with perfect precision. When he adds a second finger, stretching and stroking me, I cry out, my body trembling on the edge of release.
I’m so close I can taste it.
And then he stops.
A desperate whimper escapes me as he rises, his face hovering above mine. His cock teases my entrance, the head brushing against my slick folds.
“Tsk, tsk, Bambolina,” he says, his voice a deep, teasing rumble. “You can’t come until I say.”
“Please,” I beg, the sound of his nickname for me sending a thrill straight to my core.
He smirks, positioning himself. “You want to come on my cock, Bambolina?”
“Yes,” I plead, breathless. “I need it, Aldo. Please.”
With one powerful thrust, he’s inside me, and the moan that escapes me is pure, unfiltered ecstasy.
His cock fills me perfectly, every inch igniting sparks of pleasure. He grips my hips and adjusts the angle, his movements deliberate and unrelenting as he hits my g-spot.
He begins rubbing my clit with his thumb, and the combination is overwhelming. My body bucks, my nails digging into his shoulders.
“God, you’re so tight,” he growls, his voice rough with need.
I shatter beneath him, my orgasm crashing through me in waves that leave me breathless. My walls clamp down around him, and he groans, his movements growing erratic as he reaches his peak.
He thrusts deep, spilling inside me as our bodies move in perfect harmony.
Finally, he collapses onto me, our bodies slick with sweat, our breaths mingling in the charged air.
It’s only after I’ve milked him dry that he collapses down onto me. We lay tangled together, the scent of sex and the promise of more lingering around us. His arms tighten around me, and as we drift in the afterglow, I know this is only the beginning.
“Bambolina,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to my temple.
And in his arms, I feel utterly and completely claimed.
By the time we shower and towel off, we’re both completely and utterly spent.
The first round was complete passion.
The second was animalistic.
The visions of it wash through my mind. Could I go another round? Probably not.
We’re cuddled up in bed, Aldo tracing circles on my rib cage while I recline into him.
“You want to know when I realized I had a crush on you?”