“Don’t be sorry.” He scraped his teeth against the edge of her jaw. “But let me feel…” He groaned as his finger easily penetrated her slick, welcoming flesh.
She drew a breath of exquisite joy. Gasping. Twisting at the tendrils of need that swept through her.
“Don’t come until I tell you. Can you do that, bella?” He stroked slowly, provoking another flush of needy wetness.
“I don’t know. It feels so good,” she said on a sob. “I never want this to stop.”
“It will feel very good when I’m inside you. I promise. Can you take two?”
The fit was tight. Taut.
“I want…” She started to touch herself, needing stimulation on her clit.
“No, angelo. Not yet. I want my tongue there while I do this— Oh, that excites you, doesn’t it? I felt the way you clamped down on my fingers.” She felt his smile against her cheek. “I think you want more. Hmm?”
He eased his hand away and shifted. Now, a new pressure was demanding access, stimulating, stretching, stinging.
“Rocco,” she said with apprehension, fingernails cutting into his shoulders.
“I could come right now,” he told her. “With only my tip inside you. Does it hurt? I won’t move. Get used to it. Let me kiss you.”
His hand was on her throat, her pulse thudding against the weight of his hand. Her body felt impaled, yet unsatisfied. Ripe, yet needy.
They kissed deeply, tongues dueling while he stayed propped on one elbow and ran his free hand over her, soothing and petting, then splaying his palm on one breast to massage it. Somehow, that kneading sensation softened her loins. His thickness inched a little deeper into her. Made her want more.
“Rocco.”
“I know. It’s maddening, isn’t it?” He angled to suck at her nipple while his clever fingers traced the flesh that was growing damper and thinner, and more eager for his full penetration.
When his mouth came back to hers, his hand slid to her buttocks, angling her hips so he slid deep into her. All the way.
She fluttered her eyes open, wondering if this was a dream, finding herself here, under this man, body accepting his after all this time.
“Hold on to me,” he said.
She did, wrapping her arms and legs around him as he got his arm beneath her and brought his knees under her hips. He rose so he was on his knees, pulling her tight into his lap, holding her draped around him.
“Oh!” The position impaled her that little bit more upon him. It wasn’t painful, but it startled her. “Why did you do that?”
“Because all I want to do is thrust. You need a little more time to get used to this. How have you never done this before? You were made for this. For me.”
“I don’t…” She was in a daze of sensations, hair spilling around her, arms clinging to his shoulders, breasts abraded by the hair on his chest. Her thigh muscles were taut with nerves, bent legs held open by his splayed knees. Her loins were stretched and full.
It was intensely intimate, being in this position. She was trapped in an erotic vise and deeply vulnerable, but she didn’t want to get away.
He was taking full advantage of having both hands free, running them over her back and down to her buttocks, squeezing, nudging her that fraction deeper onto his turgid flesh.
She rubbed her face into his neck and tasted the skin against his throat. Her hands sifted through his hair, but… “It’s not enough.” The solid shape of him incited heat and wetness and such a yearning she thought she would die. She shifted as much as she could, seeking friction. “I want tomove.”
He reached out and swept the pillows away from the quilted headboard, then stood on his knees and pinned her against it.
Finally, finally, he withdrew and returned.
Glittering sensations rocketed through every nerve ending. Her scalp prickled, her nipples stung and her flesh burned where he moved.
She grappled to hold on to the top of the headboard and pressed the back of her head to the wall, arching to take him even deeper, welcoming the strength of his arms under her thighs, supporting her, and the bite of his hands into her hips as he moved with careful precision.
“Don’t be gentle,” she urged. “Take me the way you want me. I need to feel you—” His hips ground into hers, rougher than anything else he’d done. It was exactly the aggression she needed. “Yes! Like that. More—”
