“Like champagne bubbles,” I say.
Antonio stays there for a moment, breathing me in. He presses a slow, lingering kiss to my lips before shifting his weight, his hands sliding from my stomach to the outsides of my thighs.
He nips at the sensitive skin of my hips as he settles between my legs. He’s on his knees now, one hand lifting my thigh while the other spreads me open with a tenderness that borders on torment.
“Deus, you’re beautiful,” he groans, his gaze fixed on my swollen, glistening sex and the dark curls framing it. “So wet for me already. Tão pronta.”
Before I can apologize for the lack of grooming, I feel the warm, wet drag of his tongue from my ass to my clit. The sensation is electric, sending shockwaves through my body.
I cry out, my hips bucking, but he holds me steady. He does it again, flatter this time, lapping at me like he’s savoring every drop. My slickness coats his tongue, and he hums in approval.
“Oh fuck,” I gasp, my good hand clutching the sheets, the other hovering uselessly in its brace.
The pregnancy has made everything more intense. My clit throbs with every flick, like one wrong move could shatter me.
Antonio doesn’t rush. He explores me with his mouth, tracing circles around my clit before sucking it between his lips.
His tongue dips inside me, thrusting shallowly, and I feel myself clench around nothing, desperate for more. He adds a finger, then two, curling them upward to stroke that spot deep inside while his lips seal over my clit, sucking.
The pleasure builds like a storm. My skin prickles with heat, causing sweat to bead on my forehead while my breaths come in short, desperate pants.
“Antonio... please... don’t stop.” My voice breaks with need as I rock against his face, grinding into his mouth.
“That’s it, querida,” he murmurs. “Give it to me. Come for me—eu quero tudo.” I want it all. His tongue flattens, lashing faster now, relentless, while his fingers pump in and out, hitting that perfect angle every time.
It’s too much. The tension snaps, and I come undone, my body convulsing as the orgasm rips through me. I cream against his mouth and my juices flood his tongue.
He drinks me in greedily, licking and sucking through every tremor, prolonging the bliss until I’m shaking. My thighs loosen around his head, but he stays there, letting me ride out the aftershocks.
When I finally go limp, he crawls back up my body and his shorts disappear. I feel the hard length of him pressing against my thigh.
He kisses me deeply, letting me taste myself on his tongue.
Antonio
“I need you insideme,” she says. “Please.”
That word almost undoes me. Jasmine Haywood saying please with her body open beneath mine, wanting me. It’s enough to make a man lose his mind.
I position myself between her thighs, careful to brace my weight on my forearms. Her ribs are still healing. If I hurt her, I’ll never forgive myself.
“Look at me,” I say.
Her eyes flutter open. Dark and hazy with want. I hold her gaze as I push forward, watching her face as I fill her.
“Deus.” The word scrapes out of my throat. “You feel incredible.”
Incredible doesn’t cover it. Nothing covers it. She’s warm and tight and perfect, and I have to hold myself still before this ends embarrassingly fast.
Four months of celibacy will do that to a man. Four months of wanting only her.
Jasmine wraps her legs around my waist and pulls me deeper, and I take that as permission to move.
I keep my rotating thrusts slow. Every stroke draws a sound from her that I want to remember forever. She rocks her hips to meet me, finding a rhythm, and the tension builds in my spine.
I shift my angle, and she cries out. There. Right there. I do it again, watching her face shatter, watching her eyes lose focus.
“Fuck, you’re gripping me so tight,” I growl. “Come for me, querida.”
