My Big Fat Fake Honeymoon - Lauren Landish Page 0,104

both legs, and I’m faced with the toughest decision of all.

If she turns over and I see those soft, pillowy breasts, I’m not going to be able to resist devouring them. But to be able to knead that ass . . .

I reach for the sheet and slide it off to leave her fully bared, Abi humming happily when I do so. I reach out, starting with my thumbs at the dimples on either side of her spine, and work my way down, promising myself that I’m going to actually work her muscles.

That lasts until the second tight squeeze I give her ass muscles because Abigail shudders and spreads her legs invitingly.

Fuck.

No, Lorenzo . . . control. I work my hands lower, smirking when my oily hand brushes over her pussy lips and her hips jerk off the table and into my touch. “Fuck, Lorenzo . . . yes,” she hisses even as I continue to massage her ass while brushing my thumbs over her lips. She’s wet even without my oil, and soon, her pussy’s open, gleaming and begging for more.

Abigail moans deeply, lifting her ass to meet my strokes, and I prop her up with a rolled towel before sliding two fingers deep inside her.

“Mmm . . . more, please,” Abi begs as I curl my fingers inside her, stroking her inner walls and finding every little spot that gives her pleasure. As my thumb brushes over her clit, I explore her ass with my other hand and she pushes against my fingers encouragingly. “Yes.”

I’m tempted to take her sweet ass, but instead, I just massage her while pumping my fingers in and out of her tight, perfect pussy. “That’s it, mia rosa,” I whisper to her as I add a third finger. “Take it. Come on my hand, and then I’m going to fuck you as deep as you can take it. Give my fingers a taste.”

Am I speaking English or Italian? I don’t even know. My brain is short circuiting, but she must understand because she grips the edge of the table, pushing back into my plunging digits. She arches her back, her body trembling on the edge, her breath coming in deep gasps. “Lorenzo . . . fuck me, please. Fuck, I need you.”

“Come for me,” I demand, thrusting my three fingers deep as my thumb finds her clit. She explodes, clenching around my fingers and crying out softly. Her body’s as tense as a drawn bow, the wave pulling her tighter and tighter until she totally releases, her body sagging to the table in a boneless heap as she pants jaggedly.

Even as her legs and arms relax, I can feel her pussy squeezing my fingers and hear the whimper in her voice when I pull out. “Lorenzo.”

“Me too,” I promise her, giving myself a firm squeeze to stave off my pending orgasm as I climb up on the table on top of her. Her ass is oily and slick, nestling my cock and slipping around it to wrap it in her soft warmth.

I know what she said, but I can feel not only her breath catch but the tension in her shoulders when the head of my now oily cock rubs over her ass, and she isn’t ready for that. Instead, I slide back and forth, feeling my balls brush against her pussy.

“Tell me what you want?” I whisper in her ear. “I want to hear you say it.”

“I . . .” Abigail says, swallowing as she takes a moment to look over her shoulder. “I want to feel you fill me. I want you to come inside me. I want to remember this forever.”

This woman . . .

I nearly come right here at her words, but then my breath is stolen from my lungs with her brutal honesty. Maybe that’s what we both need—something to remember.

So I worship her, leaning in to sample her mouth as I move my cock down and then up and into her warm wetness. Both of us moan into the other’s mouth as her body gives way to my invasion.

I give her everything, gripping the table with my toes and hands so I can fuck her, not just with my hard cock but with my whole body as I rub and slide over hers.

We move together until she pushes back, and I understand, getting to my knees as I pull her up by her waist, staying buried balls deep inside her. She wants it hard and fast, and