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“Who’s fucking you?”
I panted, confused by his question.
“Who?” he growled, accentuating the word with a hard thrust that hit a delicious spot deep inside of me.
My eyes almost rolled back at the sensation. “You,” I said. “You, Cassio.”
“Yes.” He thrust harder, and then he tensed with a sharp exhale. I, too, froze at the feeling of utter fullness, not sure if I was going to come apart at the seams or have another orgasm. I felt his release deep inside of me and moaned. This felt so good. Cassio kissed my mouth, then my throat, panting. “Yes, you are mine, honey. Your body but most importantly that pretty head.” He pressed a kiss to my temple then rolled off me and onto his back.
I tried to catch my breath and make sense of his words. Tilting my head to the side, I watched him. His body glistened with sweat, and the hairs on his strong thighs were smeared with sweat and our releases. He stared up at the ceiling, chest heaving.
We weren’t touching anymore and slowly a wall came up—we became strangers once more. I touched my abdomen, relishing in the afterglow of his presence.
“Did I go too hard? I didn’t mean to take you like this so shortly after your first night.”
I looked at him. The hint of concern in his gruff voice warmed my heart in a way I couldn’t explain. “No. I’m fine.” I smiled. “I really enjoyed it.”
Cassio let out a short laugh. “I could tell.” He shook his head as if this was an impossibility. He shifted to his side and ran his palm along my side then swiped his thumb over my nipple. “Why would such a lovely girl want to have an old cruel man?” He’d said it sarcastically, but I caught the underlying truth.
I huffed. “You aren’t an old man.” I didn’t mention his cruelness. I didn’t know him well enough to give a testament to that. “And you are sexy.”
He chuckled, his eyes taking in my face. Slowly the smile disappeared, and he pulled his hand away. I didn’t want us to become strangers again. Why could strangers be close during sex, feel connected, even cared for, when right after nothing was between them? I wanted that feeling of connection all the time. I rolled over, closer to Cassio and pressed my palm to his chest then slowly let it glide lower, down his ripped stomach, following the trail of hair to his pelvis until my fingertips brushed his base.
Cassio let out a low groan that might have been on the verge of laughter. “I don’t have the virility of a teenage boy, Giulia.”
I looked up. His expression contradicted his words, and so did his half-erect cock. “To me, it looks like you’re virile enough,” I said teasingly. That barrier that he’d begun building between us mere seconds ago, I could feel it crumpling again. Emboldened, I touched him. His stomach hollowed with a deep breath, those delicious abs becoming more prominent.
He regarded me, one arm behind his head, with an expression as if he couldn’t make sense of me. I pushed up and straddled his thigh, delirious with the way he admired my body. His strong hairy thigh pressed up to my still sensitive center, and I ground myself against him, biting my lip at the sensation.
Cassio shook his head slowly, disbelievingly, but the look in his eyes spurred me on. I curled my fingers around his base, feeling him fill with blood under my touch.
Cassio didn’t want to relinquish control, but I wanted him to, wanted to see him give it up and hand it over to me, at least for a moment. I bent down and took his tip into my mouth. He hissed through his teeth and cupped the back of my head, his fingers raking through my hair. As with everything else, I’d done my research on this matter. The internet offered endless possibilities for the curious mind. I hollowed my cheeks as I sucked him lightly, trying to accommodate his girth in my mouth as my hand worked his base. It was still more fumbling than practiced moves, but it got the desired results. Cassio panted, his hips shifting, his fingers flexing against my scalp. I cast my eyes up, finding him watching, his expression gloriously unguarded. Yes.
Something shifted. His fingers tightened in my hair, not tugging but close to it, as he guided my head down. His hips thrust up. He was taking his control back. I yielded to his pumps, taking as much of him as he demanded, his hand firm on my head. He didn’t go deep, never once hitting my throat, perfectly controlled. At every upward thrust, I ground myself against his thigh, seeking my own satisfaction. I wasn’t sure why I didn’t feel self-conscious. There wasn’t room for it. I was too aroused, too drunk on Cassio’s hungry expression. “Enough,” he growled. He grabbed my hips and hoisted me on top of him. I didn’t have time to get my bearings before he pulled me down onto his length.
