“Easy,” he mutters. “I haven’t even begun.”
“Just get it over with,” I moan.
“You like a challenge, don’t you, princess?” he asks, looking at me. His eyes are so dark right now. My heart skips a beat.
“Don’t scream,” Matteo commands.
And then he dives in. His mouth lands on me, but he doesn’t nibble or suck—he straight out thrusts his tongue inside me. My whole body recoils, and I’d have fallen off of the couch if it weren’t for his hold on me. He fucks me with his tongue, tearing me apart with each in and out.
I gasp when he slaps me hard between my legs, the sound loud and lewdly wet. It stings, adding to my pleasure even more. Matteo nuzzles, nips, and sucks my pussy while executing a gentle tapping on my clit using just the stiffened tip of his tongue.
The buildup startles me. I start to spiral. I couldn’t keep up even if I wanted to, and he doesn’t give me any time to catch my breath.
His fingers dig into my thighs as he picks up the pace. My eyes go blurry, and I moan as I fall apart on his tongue. My legs shake; I tremble all over. I can’t help the scream that’s wrenched from my lips.
He doesn’t stop with my orgasm. He doesn’t take it slow, either. He licks every drop off my folds and my clit. He bites my inner thighs, leaving marks that I can already feel forming.
I’m suddenly hit with a stronger wave, my oversensitive nerve endings taking me to a second orgasm.
“I’m going to die,” I say mostly to myself as I come. “Fuck, Matteo!”
When I finally collapse back onto the couch, I’m boneless, lifeless, completely and utterly broken.
His head peeks from between my legs and he licks my glistening arousal off his lips. He’s more beautiful than anything in this moment, while he kneels before me.
Although he may be on his knees, he has all the power.
“You screamed,” he notes, an edge of darkness to his voice.
“You don’t fight fair,” I mutter.
He smiles, and it’s blinding and beautiful and I feel all my walls collapse at the sight.
“You have no idea how beautiful you look like this, princess. Like a goddess,” he tells me, reverence in his tone.
When he kisses me, I pull him toward me, uncaring about his weight. I can feel his cock beneath his pants, hard and prodding.
I hold onto him for dear life, thinking that I could gorge on his kisses and it still wouldn’t be enough.
I reach down to unbutton his shirt, but he wrenches away from me, taking with him all his heat and warmth. I feel the loss acutely. I sit up with a pout, looking at him.
“What are you doing?”
He runs a finger over the collar of his shirt, his gaze still on my naked body.
“I’m not fucking you, Lindsay.”
The words are delivered with a quiet intensity to show that he means business. But they’re also absolutely ridiculous.
“You’re joking, right?” I question, shooting a meaningful look at his cock.
“No. Remember what I said the last time. The next time I fuck you, you’ll be begging for it. Are you ready to beg, princess?” he purrs.
A chill slashes through me at the implication behind his words. He’s such a bastard. And I can’t believe I let myself get swept up in him. This is a punishment even if he doesn’t come out and say it. He’s punishing me and himself.
I could push him. I’m sure he would break with barely any effort. But I think about the respite I would gain from this as well.
Despite how much I want him inside of me, the truth is I also have to be smarter. I have to remember who he is.
