up the hem of my dress and ducking his head under it. So when I said I’d submit to wherever this man takes me, I didn’t think he’d immediately put his head between my legs.
But I’m not complaining.
I gasp, his hands running up the insides of my thighs, spreading them with a firm grasp. He pauses, his stubble tickling my sensitive skin, inches away from where I’m bare and most certainly wet.
Next thing I know, his hands are gathering the hem and pushing it up and around my waist. Now I’m really exposed.
I grip the edge of the stool with one hand, shocked by the intimacy, the sight of his dark hair between my legs. Rarely did my boyfriends go down on me in the past, mainly because they never seemed into it, and I was always self-conscious of myself.
Looking at Claudio now, I’m in a state of shock, but it’s a state that dissolves into want. It’s like I never even knew what I wanted until I had it.
And I have it.
His fingers dig into the tender flesh of my hips, while his thumbs keep my legs open for him. I’m breathless in anticipation, the waiting turning into yearning, turning into dying for his contact.
When it comes, all the air leaves my lungs.
His mouth is soft and wet over my clit, tentative, taking his time. My back arches, pushing myself into his mouth, like I have no control over my body anymore. The only thing I can do is grip the edge of the stool with my own hand until my knuckles turn white.
Then…
Fuck.
He takes me into his mouth and sucks me gently and I’m crying out, “Oh my god,” and I drop the roses. I absently watch as they tumble over his head and spill onto the floor, and then I’m gripping the edge of my seat with my other hand, like I’m afraid I might float right up to the ceiling.
He pulls back enough, his eyes piercing as they meet mine. “Does that feel okay?”
There isn’t even a hint of irony in his voice.
Does it feel okay?
I can’t talk. I just nod.
Then the sly grin appears on his lips. “Just checking.”
His grip gets tighter, and this time he sucks me harder, causing me to moan. Loud. My hands go to his hair, holding him tight.
“Is this to go harder? Slower?” he murmurs against me, the vibrations spreading through me.
“Just … keep going,” I whisper harshly, my neck going back, my eyes falling closed.
Dear. God.
He alternates between kisses and licks, his tongue swirling until the pressure is at capacity and I can’t hold back anymore.
“Oh god, yes,” I cry out, my words sounding feverish and foreign, like someone else is speaking through me. I’ve never been someone who vocalizes during sex, and now, from him going down on me, I want to tell him all the dirty things I want done to me.
But my mind can’t even form sentences. Not when his licking intensifies, when he starts sucking me harder, and harder and then … then…
I’m coming.
The orgasm tears through me, making my limbs shake, my body on the verge of completely letting go and falling onto the floor. It’s all too much, my thoughts and feelings are scrambled, and every physical part of me feels like it’s been shot into space and back.
“You taste like sin,” Claudio says to me as he gets up. He leans in, putting his hand at the back of my neck and kisses me, until I taste myself too, the salty and sweet. “Except I know your sin is heaven sent.”
He steps back, and I sit there, trying to catch my breath, half off the stool, the roses at my feet.
He starts to unbutton his shirt, eyes locked on mine, brimming with raw lust. His shirt sticks to him with sweat, and he pulls it off, throwing it on the ground. He then unzips the fly of his jeans, slowly. Too slowly. And even though my body still feels raw from the orgasm, I’m getting turned on all over again, like the desire inside me is a switch that’s never fully off.
“Are you on the pill?” he asks, voice low and husky.
I swallow. Nod. “Yes.”
I’m actually on it for my skin, mostly, though I figured it would never hurt if I got involved with someone. Of course that opportunity never came. Until now.
“Good,” he says.
Slides his jeans down until he’s in his briefs.
My eyes are glued to his hands as they slowly