And like the needy whore she was, she batted his hand away, gripped his base, and wrapped her lips around the head of him. She needed himnow.To show him what his words did to her. She flicked her tongue over him, a burst of salty flavor overwhelming her senses. The overwhelming flavor of lust. Her eyes closed, and she hummed, flattening her tongue and sliding down his length. She worked over him, the slickness from her mouth sliding him deeper with each pass.
His low groan filled the room, and she glanced up. Head tilted back, eyes shut tight, neck stretched and taut; he was the picture of pleasure. She slid up so just the head of him rested in her mouth and gave a strong suck. His breath hitched, and so did his hips. She took that cue, and with a slow breath, relaxed her jaw, and sank down on him, taking him almost to the back of her throat. His gaze flew to hers, a rough grunt rumbling from deep in his chest.
And then his hips gave an especially forceful jerk. His cock hit the back of her throat, and she gagged. An array of curses, some English, some Italian, flew from Fitz’s mouth; then his hand shot to her hair, pulling her off him. His face contorted as though in pain. And then he relaxed and let out a breath, slowly opening his eyes.
His lips curved, sheepish, bashful. And her heart fluttered like a leaf in the wind. The things this man did to her.
“You almost unmanned me with that one, micetta.”
She wanted to unman him. She wanted him mindless, out-of-his-head with lust because of her. Her fingertips dug into his thighs, her gaze darting between his eyes and his cock.
He released her, chuckling. “So needy for my cock. What a good little wife.”
She moaned, rubbing her wet lips over the head of him, but not taking him back inside. Instead, she traced down him, the tip of her tongue trailing down the underside and then back up. His entire body trembled, his breaths shuddering and jagged. God, the sound of him, the feel of him, the taste of him. She knew she was wanton because she loved the taste of man. It lit her core on fire, the taste of Fitz, the taste of sex.
Heaven, help her, she wanted everything he had to give her. She wanted to be covered in him—
She stilled.That thought has merit.
“Come on me,” she rushed out breathlessly.
“P-Pardon,” he squeaked.
Georgiana smiled softly. She’d shocked the stuttering right back into her husband. She sat back on her knees and shrugged out of her robe, the silk cascading over her skin like the softest of caresses. Her husband’s gaze shot to her breasts, and his chest heaved. She bit her lip. Perhaps she would have a bit of fun with this. She trailed the back of her fingers over her thighs and up her stomach until she reached her breasts. She cupped them, her thumbs sliding over her nipples, sending a spark straight to her core. A soft moan fled her lips.
“Cazzo,”he swore.Breaths exploded from Fitz, his entire body rigid, as rigid as certain delicious parts of him.
His eyes locked on her hands. She squeezed harder. She liked a rough hand.
“Touch yourself, Fitz.” She pinched her nipples and gasped. “P-please,”she begged.
His hand flew to his cock. “Fuck, cazzo,fuck.” He groaned.“What am I to do with you, Gigi?” His breath stuttered, his hand stroking faster over his erection.
“Come on my tits, hopefully,” she managed between pants.
He huffed out a laugh that ended on a strangled groan.
God, she ached between her thighs. This was pure torture. Her eyes locked on his cock, glistening from the mettle that had leaked from him, because of how badly he wanted her. She wanted—needed—him inside her. Her core clenched, and she rolled her nipples in her fingers. Heat coiled tight, the pulsing growing to dangerous heights. She squeezed her thighs, and her body shuddered. Bloody hell, she thought she might be able to come like this.
“Fuck, Gigi. I can’t—” With a guttural moan, Fitz curled over her, his free hand landing on her shoulder, gripping her nape in a hold so tight she felt it like a shock to her core.
Her skin was met with the warmth of his release, coating her breasts, her fingers. She let out a soft cry, her body trembling at the feel of him on her skin. At the feel of being marked by him. Claimed.
He dropped to his knees in front of her, chest heaving, and buried his face in her neck. After a few struggling breaths, he pulled back, his gaze scouring over her. His lids, already heavy and languid, lowered further.
“Exquisite,” he whispered, his voice nothing but an out-of-breath rasp. “Look at you dripping in my cum.”
She whimpered. Blast and damn, was it possible for this anxious, awkward man to be any more of a surprise?
He slid his fingers through his seed, gathering it and swirling it around the pebbled peak of her nipple. She inhaled sharply, arching into his touch, a sharp pang arcing to her core with every pass of slick fingertips.
“You love it, don’t you? Love being covered in me. Being well-used by me.” He coated more cum on his fingers. “Show me how much.”
Oh, God. Yes, apparently, he could be more of a surprise.
He brought his fingers to her mouth and slowly spread himself over her lips.
“Assaggiami,” he commanded.
