Page 77 of Falling for Mr. October

“Yes. Where⁠—”

He unfastens and removes my bra with a single hand, throws it as if it offended him, and lowers his mouth to my nipple, sucking me in, before shifting his attention to the other.

“Oh God,” I moan.

“The counter.”

He lifts me back onto it, the counter cold beneath my legs. “Spread your legs for me again, and let me feast on you, cara mia.”

I do as he demands, of course I do, and he gets down on his knees and practically hangs my legs over his shoulders. His whole face is pressed to me, his mouth moving, tasting, his tongue buried inside of me.

As he licks and tastes and savors me, he grips my thighs hard, almost enough for it to hurt, and somehow that makes it even better. It makes me surrender to the feelings demanding that I give myself completely over to this man.

Then all thoughts cease, and an almost inhuman sound escapes me as I lean back, my head pressed against the cabinets, my hand gripping his hair. I push my body up into him, trying to get closer, even though it would be impossible for me to be closer. For him to have more of me.

Pleasure ripples through me, hot and almost painful, and still he licks and sucks, his eyes rising to meet mine. I can tell he’s smiling even as he savors me. He’s enjoying this too. He likes being the man who makes me lose control, and I’m happy to give him that victory, because I have every intention of making him lose control too.

I grip him harder as everything inside of me tenses up and then releases gloriously, my whole body feeling sweet and liquid and good. But I know he could still make me feel better.

I felt how hard and big he was, and I need him inside of me. I need the second release I know his cock can give me, and I need it now.

“The condom,” I gasp, even as he continues sucking, as if he’s consuming the last of my orgasm. “Put it on.”

He finally pulls away, lowering my legs, and stands to his full height—his dick bulging in those sweatpants. His mouth is glistening, and even though it’s proof of what just happened, I’m not ashamed.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his eyes glimmering.

I know what he wants, and after what he’s so generously given me, I’m more than willing to give this to him.

“Please, Giovanni. Please give me that hard cock. I need you inside of me, now.”

His eyes turn molten, and he shoves down his sweatpants. He’s wearing no underwear beneath them.

The air is sucked out of my lungs at the sight of him. He’s beautiful with his clothes on, but even more so like this. He’s the kind of man who inspires statues and centuries of worship, but he’s warm and alive and in my kitchen, and today he’s mine.

“Please,” I say again as he grabs his dick in one hand and pumps it.

Too impatient to wait for him, I lean over and scrabble across the counter until I find the little foil packet. I rip it open, and he pulls away so I can smooth the condom over him, my hand eager, since it’s the first time I’ve touched him without his pants on.

He’s velvety smooth, but so, so hard underneath, and my body, which just experienced the most violent orgasm I’ve ever had, is already hungry for a second one—one that only this cock can bring me.

“You taste like salt and honey,” he says. “See how delicious you taste, Bianca.”

Then he kisses me deeply, and I nearly cry out in pure pleasure. In wonder at him. As he kisses me, he claims his place between my legs, spreading me wider.

He positions himself with one hand, and it nearly drives me mad to feel him there, his tip against me. I’m so close to having what I want, what I’ve needed since the night he kissed me in the dark.

A cry does escape me this time, swallowed by his mouth, as I wrap my legs around him, urging him along, my hands finding his butt. Then he grips my legs again like he owns them and thrusts inside.

He’s big, but I’m so wet he slides in easily, and for a moment, he goes still—buried fully inside of me, my legs wrapped around him.

I feel so beautifully overcome as he continues to kiss me, his throbbing, thick length trapped inside of me, and then he starts moving, and I almost want to cry.

It feels so beautiful. So good.

It’s been so long since I’ve experienced anything as good as this. Then again, he would be good in bed and out of it, wouldn’t he?

He’s gorgeous and now famous, and no doubt he’s slept with dozens and dozens of women.