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It’s almost fucking impossible to stay still when he’s looking at me like that, staring at me like he wants to worship me and devour me all at once.
He touches my breasts again, seeming even more fascinated and turned on now that he can see what he’s doing. He rolls one nipple lightly between his thumb and forefinger, and I clench my thighs as slick arousal seeps from my pussy.
All he’s done is look at me and play with my boobs, and I’m fucking dripping for him.
He’s hard as a rock for me too. I can see his cock straining against his pants as he drags his large hands down the curve of my waist. When he hits the waistband of my pants, he pauses again.
His gaze darts back up to mine, his brows pulling together. Not like he’s asking permission, exactly, but like he’s looking for something in my expression.
I stare at him, taking in every bit of his face in the dim light. There’s so much I want to say, but he’s been utterly quiet this whole time, and I feel like I should be too. If I speak, I’m pretty sure I’ll end up begging him to touch me, and that’s not how I want this to happen.
I want him to decide. Every step of the way.
So once again, I just wait, keeping my body as soft and relaxed as possible beneath his touch.
When he hooks his fingers in the waistband of my pants, I release the breath I didn’t realize I was holding, shifting my hips to let him pull them down my legs. He snags my panties too, and when cool air hits my heated pussy, I let out a low gasp.
His gaze shoots back up to mine, and I nod slightly, letting him know it’s okay. More than okay. It’s good.
Seeming satisfied that I’m all right, he turns his attention back to my pants, dragging them all the way off. He tosses them to the floor, seeming to forget about them entirely as he takes in the naked expanse of my body. He ended up kneeling between my legs as he pulled my sleep pants off, and I know he can see the arousal that glistens on my pussy lips. I can fucking feel it, so I don’t see how he could miss it.
His hands rest on my knees, which are lightly splayed open, his fingers digging into my skin just a little. He seems frozen in place, almost, his gaze riveted to that spot at the apex of my thighs.
I want… more.
His hands on my legs are driving me crazy, his touch a promise of everything else he could do if he’d just allow himself. I have to force myself not to hook my ankles behind his ass and pull him closer—but in the end, I don’t need to anyway.
With a jerk, he suddenly moves, both of his palms sliding up my thighs. Goose bumps spring up in the wake of his touch, and as his fingers drag over my hipbones, I sigh.
I think he’s going to explore this part of me just like he did my breasts, and I’m bracing myself to try to withstand the exquisite torture when he surprises me by shifting backward and dropping his head, pressing my legs wider apart with his broad shoulders.
Hot breath hits my pussy, and I whimper, my stomach muscles contracting as my inner walls tighten.
“You’re so…”
Ciro’s voice is a hoarse whisper, and he never finishes the sentence. I’m not sure if he can. But when he leans down a little more and drags his nose through my neatly trimmed curls, I don’t give a shit what he would’ve said.
I don’t need to hear it.
I can feel everything I need to know in the way a quiet groan of satisfaction vibrates against my skin.
The tip of his nose brushes my clit, and I gasp, gripping the headboard so hard it makes my fingers ache.
Please, Ciro. Please, please, fucking please.
He gives me what I need. But honestly, I don’t think it’s because of my desperate internal plea. I think it’s because he needs this as badly as I do.
With his hands resting on the dip of my waist, he drags his tongue through my folds. Again. And again. And again.
There’s nothing hurried in his movements, nothing rushed or desperate. He’s slow and steady and thorough. So fucking thorough that my head starts to spin from the pleasure of feeling his tongue on me. It feels like it’s everywhere at once, lapping at me like a cat bingeing on milk.
“So sweet.”
This time, he finds the word he’s looking for, and as if the words themselves are a reminder of how much he needs this, how much he’s been craving it, he attacks my pussy with even more hunger.
I don’t even think he’s trying to make me come right now. He’s just trying to devour me. To sate something inside of himself that demands more and more.
But it also doesn’t really matter what he’s trying to do. The sight of his head buried between my legs, the sound of the little grunts and growls he makes, and the feeling of his smooth tongue sliding over my clit is more than I can take.
