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Domenico adds a third finger, and all three of them touch the spot that makes white-hot lightning crack behind my eyelids. His mouth is relentless, sucking and licking and driving me toward a second peak that’s already building, already cresting.

I’m making sounds I don’t recognize—desperate, pleading, half-formed words that dissolve into moans.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he growls against me. The vibration of his voice against my clit sends another shock through my core. “You’re taking Daddy’s fingers so good. My filthy girl.”

“Yes! Daddy! I’m so close again!”

The second orgasm breaks harder than the first. It rolls through me in waves, each one stronger than the last, and by the time it peaks, my whole body is shaking, my fingers twisted so tight in his hair I’m probably hurting him and I can’t make myself let go.

He works me through it with his mouth and his fingers, relentless, unhurried, like he has all the time in the world and he’s going to spend every second of it devouring me.

I come back to myself in pieces. My body is flushed, trembling, every nerve ending raw and oversensitive. My husband’s mouth is still on me, gentler now, lapping at me with a tenderness that feels almost cruel after what just happened.

When he lifts his head to look at me through my spread legs, I can’t help gaping at his wet mouth and chin. The sight of him like that makes something possessive and hungry coil tight in my belly.

I want more. I want everything.

“Take me.” The words come out ragged, stripped of whatever composure I had left. “Please, Domenico. I want you inside me. I’m ready.”

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before moving up my body. His cock drags against my inner thigh, leaving a wet trail, and when he positions himself between my legs, I can feel the head pressing against my entrance.

Not pushing in. Just resting there, hot and heavy and so close I could scream.

“Are you?” he asks, his voice rough but controlled.

“I am,” I argue.

His eyebrows rise.

My confidence lasts all of two seconds. My eyes drop between us, and seeing his cock resting against me brings back the thought I had when I first undressed him. How the hell is that supposed to fit?

So, okay, maybe ready was a bit too ambitious.

“Kira.”

“I’m thinking.” I glare at him when his mouth twitches. “Don’t,” I snip.

“Don’t what?”

“Look smug.”

“I haven’t said a fucking word.”

Which somehow makes it worse. A part of me wants to throw my arm over my face to avoid looking at his I-just-ate-the-canary expression. But I just know he’ll move it if I do, so I don’t even bother.

I glare at him before looking between us again. He’s huge. There’s no getting around that fact, and suddenly the idea of him pushing all of that inside me makes my stomach tighten for reasons that aren’t entirely sexual.

“Maybe…” I swallow. “Maybe I’m not ready for all of you.”

The teasing disappears from his expression.

“There you go.”

“But I still want you inside me,” I add quickly. “So, what do we do?”

Domenico lowers his head until his mouth brushes mine. “We compromise.”

“How?”