He slipped one hand between my thighs, rubbing me slowly but firmly over my black satin panties. My hips rocked over his hand instinctively, my underwear growing damp. I widened my knees slightly, hoping he’d understand the invitation—and he did.
His fingers worked beneath the satin, and my breath caught as he teased me open, gently sliding one of those talented fingers inside me. My hands fisted in his hair as the tension in my body pulled tighter. “Yes,” I whispered against his lips. “Yes.”
Wrapping one arm around my shoulders and the other circling my knees, he tipped me onto my back and pulled my panties down my legs. After tossing them to the floor, he stood up to remove the rest of his clothes, hopping on one foot when his jeans stubbornly clung to his legs. I laughed when he finally wrested them from his body and pounced on me, covering my body with his and burying his face in my neck.
“Wait, turn off the lights,” I said, giggling as his tongue tickled my throat.
“No fucking way.” He picked up his head and looked down at me. “If I’m never going to have this chance again, I’m not about to fumble around in the dark. I’m going to see every inch of your body so I can live on this memory forever.”
I laughed. “Stop it. Don’t make jokes.”
“I’m serious.”
“Then how come you’re smiling?”
“Oh come on.” His grin was playful. “You can’t blame me for that. I’ve got a former Cherry Princess naked in my bed at the Pineview Motel. Fucking pinch me.”
I reached down and pinched his butt. “How’s that?”
“It’s good,” he said, moving his mouth down my chest. “It’s so fucking good.”
“Can we at least get under the covers? It’s still chilly in here.”
“I promise I will keep you warm tonight,” he said, but he worked the sheets and blankets down and slipped in beside me, pulling them to our shoulders.
“I believe you.” I rolled to my back and cradled his head in my arms as he lowered his mouth to my breasts, sucking one swollen pink tip and then the other, sending delicious little darts of lust straight between my legs. On his side next to me, he slid one hand up my inner thigh. Anxious to feel his fingers inside me again, I opened my legs wider, but his palm moved up past my hip, across my stomach—making it quiver—and down the other leg.
“Don’t tease me,” I whispered, lifting my hips.
“I’m just trying to go slow.” He circled my nipple with the tip of his tongue. “The way you like it.” But he dipped one finger inside me, then slowly stroked my clit with his warm, wet fingertip.
I moaned as the sensations swept through my body, liquid and luscious. I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt anything as good as Gianni’s mouth on my breasts while his hand worked magic between my thighs.
And then he moved on top of me, sliding down my body, kissing his way down my belly until his tongue replaced his fingers on my clit. For a moment, I couldn’t breathe as he stroked me, gently at first, then building the intensity with soft little flicks and artful swirls and clever tricks that had me clawing at the sheets in delightful agony. Then he slipped his fingers inside me—two this time—and the tension in my body ratcheted up with an intensity that nearly made me scream. Something inside me was closing around his fingers as he nibbled and sucked and pushed in deeper.
“Gianni,” I whimpered. At least, I tried to say his name. I wanted to. But my mind was a jumble of crisscrossed wires and the signals were flying too fast for me to think straight. My body took over, my hips flexing, my insides tightening, my breath caught, my skin on fire, my vision going black, until everything burst wide open in wondrous pulses of pleasure and light, my core muscles clenching around Gianni’s fingers. I cried out with every beat of pleasure.
I felt and heard his moan as he delivered and devoured my orgasm at the same time. His breathing was ragged as he tore his mouth off me and moved up my body. “Did you fake that?”
“Are you kidding?”
He gave me his cocky grin. “Don’t move.”
I stared at him in disbelief as he got off the bed and went over to his bag. Move? I wasn’t even sure my legs would hold me up.
He rummaged around in his duffel bag, found what he was looking for, and returned to bed. Kneeling on the mattress, he tore the condom wrapper open with his teeth and rolled it on while I watched, breathless with desire and anticipation. He was so fucking gorgeous—from his messy hair to those blue eyes, to the broad chest to the six-pack stomach to the tall, thick cock that was hard for me.