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He groans from the friction.

So I do it again.

He brings one hand to my cheek and whispers in my ear. “You can do that until I come in my pants. I’m still not going to fuck you,” he growls in my ear.

His defiance shouldn’t be so sexy.

But it is.

I kiss him hard and roll my body against his and bring my hands to his ass, to hold him all the way against me.

So close to everything I want.

And so far away from it too.

He lets me toy with him for a long, long time, then he breaks our kiss.

For a long moment, he holds my gaze. Daring me to ask for more. To tempt him. To confess my undying love.

I won’t do that.

But I will do this.

“Please, Matteo.” I let my ego slip away. Find every ounce of vulnerability I have. “I need you.”

His pupils dilate.

It’s exactly what he wants to hear.

He kisses me again, one more time, with all that love and attention and need.

Then it’s his lips on my chin, neck, chest, stomach.

The apex of my thigh.

He teases me with the soft strokes I like.

It’s a quick taste, but it’s still enough to wind me tight.

Pleasure vibrates through my body.

He explores me with his tongue, taking his time re-familiarizing himself with my folds.

He tests me with different pressures.

Spots.

Speeds.

I stay present, responding to every tease with exactly how much it pushes me closer.

Slowly, he works his way to where I need him.

Licks me exactly how I need him.

Those long, slow strokes.

Again.