Page 60 of Diego

Her eyes widen. She doesn't try to hide her appreciation, and I can't help but preen a little. I'm a man. I'm proud of what I have to offer.

She reaches for me, her fingers wrapping around my length. A groan escapes my lips.

"You're... very sure of yourself," she says, her grip tightening, her strokes slow and torturous.

"A man's got to have something to be sure of," I manage to say.

I let her explore for a few more moments, enjoying the feel of her hands on me, the way she watches her own movements. Then I gently push her back onto the island, her legs still dangling off the edge.

"Last chance to change your mind," I say, my voice low. "To run away to Switzerland." I'm trying to tease her, to lighten the mood, to regain some semblance of control.

But my tone betrays me. There's nothing light about it. There's only need.

"I'm not going anywhere," she says, her voice husky. She spreads her legs wider, a blatant invitation.

That's all the encouragement I need.

I lean down and drag my tongue through her wet folds, and she cries out, her hips bucking. Her taste explodes in my mouth—sweet, musky, and uniquely Blair. It's better than I imagined, and I've been imagining this all day.

I spread her legs wide, practically pressing her knees against the counter, opening her to me completely.

Her pussy is wet and gleaming in the fading light. I see a drip of wetness trailing between her lips.

"Deliziosa," I whisper, my gaze fixated on her. "My delicious Blair."

I lean in and lick her, from her weeping entrance to her throbbing clit, and she gasps, her whole body tensing.

"Diego," she moans, her hands fisting in my hair. "Oh, God."

I smile against her. "Not quite, dolcezza. But you may see God before I'm done."

Her laugh turns into a choked gasp as I suck her clit into my mouth. I flick it with my tongue, once, twice, and her hips start to move against my mouth.

I put my hands to her hips and press her down to the counter, holding her in place.

A whining sound escapes her.

"I need to..." she pants.

"Easy," I say, my lips brushing against her. "Let me take care of you."

I settle in for a feast. I explore every inch of her, learning her, memorizing her. I find the spot that makes her gasp, the one that makes her hips buck, the one that makes her cry out.

I press a finger into her, then another. She clenches around me, her body drawing me in. I curl my fingers, and watch as her eyes roll back in her head.

I'll save that one for a little later.

For now, I work her with my tongue and fingers, pushing her higher and higher...

Then gently bringing her back down.

She's so responsive. So beautifully responsive. She's not shy about her pleasure, not holding back her sounds. Every gasp, every moan, every whimper is music to my ears.

After yet another time of not letting her come, she looks down at me, her eyes glazed with need. "You're a monster," she pants.

I chuckle, my tongue still stroking her. "No," I say. "Just a man who appreciates a fine meal. And I'm not done eating yet. I prefer to savor. "

I nibble gently on her clit, and she cries out, her whole body tensing.