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36
Karma
"Dessert?" I blink rapidly. "Is Paolo going to serve us dessert?"
"He offered to make dolce for us, but I told him to wait. We’ll have it after."
"After?" My cheeks heat, "After what?"
"After..." He lifts me up onto the table, then pushes my legs apart. The dress I’m wearing is pushed up to above my knees. He slides his fingers up my thighs, and I try to squeeze them together.
"Relax," he murmurs, "I am going to make this so good for you."
That’s what I am afraid of.
I peer at him from between my eyelashes. "I thought you weren’t going to shag me?"
"Doesn’t mean I can’t pleasure you," his eyes gleam, "while I feast on you."
A pulse flares to life between my legs. It mirrors the beat of my heart, the thud-thud-thud of the blood roaring in my ears as he rises to his feet. Without taking his gaze off of mine, he leans over and shoves the rest of the crockery aside. The dishes and remaining cutlery hit the ground with a crash that sweeps through me. I shudder, partly from lust, partly from the adrenaline that sweeps through me. Jesus, is that hot or what? And so damn erotic.
He eases me onto my back, then peers into my eyes as he slides his hand up my thigh. When he reaches my panties, he brushes my core through the drenched fabric and flickers of heat ladder up my spine. Oh, my god, he is going to torture me with his touch, his kisses, the way he cups my pussy as he brushes his lips over mine.
"Who does this belong to?" he whispers against my mouth. "Tell me, Beauty, who do you spread your legs for?"
"You, Capo," I murmur and he draws in a breath. He hooks his fingers in the delicate lace of the panties and tugs. The material snaps. Goosebumps pop on my skin. I gasp as cool air assails my heated core. He pulls off my panties, pockets them, then places his fingers on the pulse that gallops at the base of my throat.
"You’re turned on,amore mio," he says in a low voice. "You like it when I surprise you like this?"
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. My ability to formulate sentences flees as he pulls his knife from where he carries it tucked into the waistband at the small of his back. He holds it up. The blade gleams and I gulp. He slides it under the the neckline of my dress. I gulp. He tugs, the fabric tears down the center and I yelp.
The front falls open, exposing me to him. He sticks the blade of the knife into the wood of the table, then cups my breast. "Who does this belong to,amore mio?" he asks. "Tell me."
"You, Michael," I whisper. "It belongs to you."
He brushes his finger across my nipple, and my breast trembles. He brings his mouth down, sucks on my nipple, and a groan spills from my lips. I writhe under him as he curls his tongue around the pebbled bud, as he brings his other hand up to cup my other breast, as he bites down on the nipple gently, and oh, with so much care that my entire body seems to catch fire. I push my breast up and into his mouth. "Please, suck harder,” I beg. ”Please, Michael, please."
"I don’t want to hurt you," he murmurs. "Your breasts feel heavier and your nipples are swollen. I want to make sure you enjoy this as much as possible."
"Oh." I blink as he tugs on my nipple, then blows on it. I shiver, arch my spine, chasing the suction I so crave, even as he drags his finger across my other nipple. I moan as he turns his attention to my other breast. He bites gently on the nipple, then lathes it with his tongue, before blowing on it. And my breasts are so tender that even that slight breeze sends ripples of sensations crawling down my spine. My core clenches and my toes curl as I raise my arms and throw them about his shoulders as he kisses his way down to my stomach.
He presses his lips to my belly as he grips my hips, then glances up at me, "Who does the child you carry in your womb belong to,Tesoro Mio?" He curls his tongue inside my belly button and I groan. "Tell me."
"You, Mi-kah," I gasp, "the child belongs to you."
He rewards me with a kiss, as he cups my swollen pussy. "Who does your cunt belong to,Contessa?" He whispers against my throbbing flesh, "Tell me."
"You, Mika." I push my hips forward, aching to feel him inside of me. "It belongs to you, only you."
He slips his finger inside my aching channel and I groan.
"More," I pant, "please, I want more."
I sense him smirk as he adds a second finger, then begins to work his fingers in and out of me, gently, oh so gently.
"Oh, my god," I moan. "Mika, please, fuck me with your tongue, please."
He pulls out his fingers, only to replace them with his tongue.
