Page 141 of Lorenzo

Her body goes taut, stiff as a board, and I know I've found it.

I press against it, rubbing it in a firm, circular motion as I copy the movement with my tongue on her clit.

Her toes curl, and a garble of unintelligible sounds escapes her.

Her pussy clamps down on my fingers hard, and her orgasm crashes through her with the force of a tidal wave.

Her body convulses, writhing and bucking against my face as I continue to work her through the intense pleasure. Her juices flow, soaking my fingers and flooding my mouth.

I don't stop. I keep up the pressure, the rhythm, drawing out her orgasm until one leads into another and all she can do is scream my name over and over, her cries echoing in the quiet room.

She loses all control of her body, her thighs tightening around my head, and her hands clawing desperately for purchase anywhere on the bed. She's lost in it, a slave to it, and I'm the one who put her there.

I've never seen anything more beautiful.

I lap at her greedily, savoring her taste, the feel of her, the sounds she's making.

It is the most erotic thing I have ever experienced.

I finally slow my movements, giving her a chance to come down from the high.

Her cries turn to whimpers, then to soft moans, until she is completely spent, her body limp and pliant beneath me. She's panting heavily, her chest rising and falling with each ragged breath.

I gently withdraw my fingers and give her one final, gentle lick. She cries out weakly and shudders, her entire body trembling in the aftermath.

I move back up her body, covering her with my own, and take her mouth in a deep kiss. I know she can taste herself on my tongue, and she doesn't seem to mind. In fact, she kisses me back with a surprising amount of fervor, her arms coming around my neck, holding me to her.

We kiss for a long time, neither of us in a hurry to end it, as our tongues tangle and dance.

My cock is rock hard, pressing insistently against her thigh, but I ignore it for the moment.

I want to savor this. To savor her.

She breaks the kiss, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

“You are a menace,” she says, her voice raspy.

“And you, Donatella, are magnificent.”

A slow, tired smile spreads across her face.

I rest my forehead against hers, both of us catching our breath.

"Are you trying to kill me?" she asks, her voice hoarse and raspy.

I chuckle. "There are worse ways to go."

She lets out a weak laugh that ends in a moan.

"I need a minute," she says. "Or ten. Or maybe a week."

I smile against her skin. "We have all the time in the world."

And then, she does something that surprises me.

She rolls us over until she's on top of me.

Her blonde hair cascades around us, forming a golden curtain. She looks down at me, her blue eyes hazy with satisfaction.