I feel myself flush in anticipation. There’s a scary thrill to this, but scary in a delicious way. With my hands tied and my sight blocked, I feel like every inch of my skin is hypersensitive and alive.
I’m a feast, a succulent dish, offered up on a platter to a god.
I hear him removing his clothing, and I suddenly wish I could see, because I can never pass up a chance to ogle his body. But then as he gets closer to the bed, I suck in my breath and hold it until my lungs grow tight, not knowing what he’s going to do.
I feel the heat of his face as it comes over my chest, and then hot air blows against my breasts.
“Fuck,” I cry out through a rough gasp, my back arching up, my wrists fighting against the string for a moment.
Claudio continues to blow, concentrating on one nipple, then the other, before heading down over my sides, toward my belly.
I feel his hands grip my upper thighs, thumbs digging in, and he spreads my legs again and starts blowing down, down, down, the stubble on his cheeks scratching against my skin, the air blowing on my clit.
Sweet Jesus!
“Claudio!” I cry out harshly, my hips bucking up toward his face, wanting so badly for this teasing to stop, to feel the soft purchase of his mouth. This is already driving me crazy.
He pulls back just a bit, enough for me to hold my breath again, waiting, waiting … where is he going to go next?
God, he was right when he said this would help me focus. I’ve never been so attuned to my body before, to every single need and craving it has. And it wants him to eat me out, lick every crevice, until his cock is crammed inside me.
“What are you thinking now?” he murmurs, still between my legs, his breath hot as he speaks just inches from where I am so very wet and desperate.
“I want to grab your hair and shove your face between my legs, make you devour me.”
A pause. Then his warm chuckle.
“Very well.”
His lips meet my clit in a second, a burst of pleasure shooting through me like lightning bolts, and my hips are rising off the bed and I am so fucking done for, I feel like I’ve been turned inside out.
Meanwhile, he shows no signs of slowing. He licks at me, tongue strong and hot, and I’m growing slicker and slicker, the sound getting messier and messier.
I don’t even have time to prepare until I’m coming, my body shaking with tiny explosions.
“Holy fuck,” I cry out softly, stifling my words into a whimper, and I’m coming in his mouth harder than I’ve ever come before. If Vanni wasn’t across the hall, I think I would have screamed.
I’m still being torn by my release, still pulsing and sensitive, and totally wired, when I feel him shift onto the bed, grabbing my left leg and raising it up so it’s straight and lying against his chest, then he’s slamming his cock into me.
I barely have time to breathe. He slides into me with such slick, delicious ease that it makes my mouth water.
“Oh, Grace,” he says through a tight moan as he pushes himself in and out, the rhythm quick but controlled. “What are you doing to me?”
What are you doing to me? I want to ask, since I’ve barely calmed down from my orgasm and he’s already fucking me.
And the man knows how to fuck. His hips grind into me in small, quick circles, his cock hitting each sensitive nerve, and with my senses putting all the focus on us, on our bodies, on our pleasure, I can feel another orgasm building within me.
“Touch me,” I whisper, no longer too sensitive.
I tense in anticipation, and then his thumb rubs against my clit, creating friction that will carry me through again. Pleasure overwhelms my senses, while my senses add to the pleasure.
The sound of his raspy breath and the gentle creak of the bed.
The feel of his cock as it rams inside me, the rough side of his thumb sliding over my sensitive flesh.
The smell of our sex, mixed with almonds and sunshine.
The taste of my own sweat on my upper lip.
I am so fucking alive.
And then … then it’s too much.
I silently beg for him to keep going. I’m so close, so close.
And then I’m there.
A mess of nonsense words choke inside my throat, and then my