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His entire body stiffens. His hand presses against my hair, not pushing me, but I can feel the control it takes for him not to do it. I feel a surge of desire through my own body, the devilish desire once again to find out what would break his control, what would make him snap and push me down onto his cock, fucking my face. I’m half disappointed that he doesn’t, and half grateful—his cock is thick and long and impossibly hard, and I’m not sure how much of it I can take.
We don’t really have time to go slow. Someone could come by the office, unused as it often is, at any moment. Plenty of people here have the keys. But I can’t make myself rush. Instead, I lean forward, my lips wrapped around just the tip as I flick my tongue over it, tasting the salt of his pre-cum. Gently, I tease the soft flesh beneath, and Lorenzo sucks in a harsh gasp of air, his hand curling against the back of my head.
“Fuck,” he breathes, leaning back against the wall. “God, your mouth already feels so fucking good?—”
He says it in a hushed whisper, but it’s somehow more erotic than if he’d groaned the words aloud. I never thought I was an exhibitionist, but something about the possibility of getting caught makes my heart beat faster, my blood rushing hot as I tease the tip of his cock again with my tongue. The idea of someone catching us, me, on my knees with Lorenzo’s cock in my mouth makes my body go tight, and I can feel how wet I am. I haven’t touched myself at all, but I can feel the damp fabric of my panties clinging to my skin beneath my tights.
Slowly, I slide my lips down his length, inch by inch. I haven’t enjoyed doing this in so long. I can’t remember ever having enjoyed it this much. He tastes clean and faintly salty, and my lips strain to accommodate him all in my mouth, the thick veins throbbing against my tongue. I slide the tip of it over every vein and inch of his flesh, feeling him stiffen and gasp as I work my way down, his cockhead sliding to the back of my tongue. When I glance up, Lorenzo’s eyes are closed, his jaw tight as he swallows hard.
Every inch of his body screams pleasure, that he’s caught in the grip of an exquisite sensation, and desire pulses through me steadily at the sight of it. There’s a feeling of power, too—this man, this dangerous, powerful man, is at my mercy for this moment. There’s nothing he wants right now more than for me to make him come.
Slowly, I struggle to take him deeper. I choke as his cockhead pushes into my throat, and I slide off of him in a hurry, gasping for a breath. The glazed expression on Lorenzo’s face when he looks down at me makes me feel dizzy with desire.
I understand what he meant, when he looked at me and said he liked the sight of me disheveled. It’s the best word for what he looks like right now—his clothing rumpled, his hair fallen into a face gone tight with arousal, his trousers undone, and his damp, swollen cock jutting out eagerly, desperate for my mouth again.
“God, Mila—” He groans my name, and I lean in, wrapping my lips around him again the moment I’ve had a chance to take a breath. “Fuck, you’re going to make me come?—”
His cock throbs against my tongue, and I feel his hips twitch, his body stiffening with the effort not to thrust too deeply. I slide downwards again, slowly, wrapping my tongue around his shaft as I try to take him further, and his fingers curl into my hair.
“You look so fucking beautiful like this.” His hand trails down, his fingers brushing along my jaw. His thumb presses at the corner of my lips, where they’re stretched around him, and he groans with a low, almost desperate sound. “God, I can’t?—”
When the tip of his cock slips into my throat, my muscles convulsing around him as I struggle to take him deeper, Lorenzo makes a choked sound that mirrors mine. “Fuck, Mila—I’m?—”
He starts to try to pull back, but I reach up, my hand gripping his hip to try and hold him in place. I tighten my lips around his cock, sucking harder as I feel him stiffen and throb, and I catch one brief glimpse of Lorenzo pressing his fist against his mouth before the sudden hot rush of his cum fills mine.
It’s so sudden, and so much, that it’s hard not to choke. I swallow convulsively, still rubbing my tongue beneath his cockhead as I do, moving my lips against his throbbing length as Lorenzo gasps and shudders against the wall. I can hear him cursing beneath his breath, a muffled sound behind his fist as he tries to stay quiet. Somewhere in the midst of all of it, I feel sure that I hear him groan my name.
Slowly, when every last drop has coated my tongue, I let him slip out of my mouth. I look up at him as I wrap my hand around his still-hard cock, flicking my tongue against the tip to lick off every last bit, and Lorenzo lets out a sharp breath as he shudders.
“Mila—fuck, that’s too much.” He twitches in my grasp, and the hand that was resting against my hair reaches for my arm, tugging me up to my feet.
A sudden, odd shyness sweeps over me. “Was that good?” I whisper, and Lorenzo looks at me as if I’ve just spoken in a foreign language.
“Christ, Mila.” He turns me suddenly, switching our positions so that it’s my back against the wall, his hand stroking my hair as he reaches to tip my chin up to look at him with the other. “I’ve never had my cock sucked like that in my entire life.”
“Good.” I give him a small, tremulous smile. My body feels shaky, still awash with heat and desire, and Lorenzo’s gaze darkens as he looks at me.
“There’s only one way I can feel right about this, after what you just did,” he murmurs. His hand drops from my hair, thumb pressing against my lower lip softly, leaving a brief indent in the flesh there.
Another shiver ripples through me. “What’s that?”
Lorenzo reaches for my waist, lifting me as if I weigh nothing at all. My legs go around his hips without meaning to, and for one brief moment, he has me pinned to the wall like that, his damp, half-hard cock trapped between us. I feel him tense, feel his hips rock against me once, as if everything in him is screaming for him to fuck me, to make me entirely his.
But instead, he turns around, carrying me to an unused desk at the back of the room, and sits me on the edge of it.
Carefully, he spreads my legs, stepping between them. I’m trembling with desire, unable to look him in the eye, and Lorenzo lifts my face to meet his gaze again.
The desire I see in his eyes makes me feel as if my every nerve is on fire. Liquid heat pools between my legs, an ache spreading through me that feels as if we could spend hours here, and I still wouldn’t be satisfied. I want to pull every inch of clothing off of him, see him bare and stripped down in front of me, feel that bare skin against mine. My heart pounds in my chest, and the look on his face is so much softer than anything I’ve ever seen that I don’t know whether to be aroused or terrified.
“When I imagined doing this,” he murmurs, his thumb still brushing against my lower lip, “it was somewhere that I could hear you scream my name. But after what you just did, principessa, I can’t go any longer without tasting you.”’
And then his hand curls around the back of my head, his other at my waist, tipping me back as his mouth presses hard against mine.
It’s as if he doesn’t care that a moment ago, he came in my mouth. His tongue licks along the seam of my lips, seeking entrance, and I open for him. At that moment, I can’t imagine any part of me not being his.
I’ve forgotten everything except how good this feels. All the reasons why we shouldn’t be doing this, his and mine, vanish. All I can think about is how warm his mouth feels, how soft, how good the ferocity of this kiss feels. He was gentle before, outside in the hall, but now Lorenzo is kissing me as if he wants to eat me from the mouth down, his tongue tangling with mine as his other hand drops to my hip and pulls me closer.
I feel him, hard and thick, pressed against me. His naked cock grinds against the outside of my ballerina’s leotard and tights, the heat of the straining flesh sinking through the fabric, and I moan helplessly into the kiss.
