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“No,” I gasp. I reach down, wrapping my fingers in Salvatore’s dark hair, riding the stunning pleasure of his tongue. “No, he hasn’t—hasn’t hurt me.”
He drags his teeth roughly against my over-sensitive clit, as if asking—do you want me to? I’ve never felt anything like this before. I see stars, toes curling, mouth open in a silent cry I absolutely can’t utter.
“Where is he? Let me talk to him. We can settle this, negotiate like men.”
I glance down between my legs. Salvatore meets my gaze for a moment, his eyes burning, his lips wet. He bends down and licks straight up my clit with his broad, flat tongue. If his hand wasn’t holding down my hips, I think I would fly right off the bed.
“He’s—busy.”
I can’t do this. I’m going to break.
“Has he said what he wants?”
He’s already got it.
My breath hitches. My legs open further for him, and he peppers kisses against my inner thigh, encouraging me to open myself up beneath him. My knees fall apart, my hips rolling up slowly into his tongue.
“Papa, I have to go...”
“Tessa, wait—”
I can’t wait.
I end the call.
A sob of pleasure finally breaks from my lips. I can’t fight it anymore. The phone buzzes angrily against the mattress, vibrating again and again as my father tries and fails to reach me.
Salvatore takes the phone and presses it low against my pelvis, sending the vibration rocketing through my pussy.
I buck like an animal against the buzz, begging for more.
“Aah!” I bite into the back of my hand to muffle the sounds spilling freely from my lips, but Salvatore doesn’t allow it.
“Let me hear you,” he demands, his growl dark and deep with wanting. He pulls my hand away and roughly circles his fingers on my clit again. My hands pull at his bed sheets, one leg twitching into the air.
I cry out for him, rocking against those blunt fingers.
“Please,” I hear myself say, the desperate a word senseless, meaningless cry.
“Please what?” he demands. “Say it, princess.”
“Please—”
I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m begging for, only that I want it. Want him. I sob and tremble on the edge of something wild and nameless—something you don’t come back from.
“Salvatore—”
“That’s my girl.”
Salvatore lifts my legs over his shoulders, buries his mouth against my pussy, using his tongue and fingers in tandem until the pleasure hammers straight up into my belly.
The pleasure breaks like the cresting of a tidal wave—it tears through me, bringing me to a trembling brink.
Within two hours of knowing him, with my legs spread and my mascara running, Salvatore shatters me with my first orgasm.
5
Salvatore
