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"Massimo," he growls.
"Eh?" I blink rapidly, not sure what he means.
"That’s. My. Name. Now say it."
When I hesitate, he releases my breast, only to shove his hand under the waistband of my panties. He stabs two thick fingers inside me, and I gasp. My gaze widens. I open and shut my mouth, unable to articulate the sensations that scream up my spine. He circles my clit with his thumb, and oh, my god, that’s too much. I dig my nails into his shoulders, and a growl rumbles up his throat.
“Do you know how much it turns me on when you do that?”
He adds a third finger inside me and I gasp.
"Oh, god, it’s too much. Please, please, please," I pant, mewl, and arch against him. I try to squeeze my thighs together to stop him, but he’s relentless.
“My name. Say it.” He works his fingers in and out of me, then squeezes my clit and kneads my nipples at the same time, and my entire body trembles. "Oh, my god, Massimo," I cry out.
"Good girl." He releases me, only to turn me around.
"Wait, what?" He tugs on my half-undone corset and pushes it down past my waist, along with my panties. The clothes fall around my ankles, and I kick them aside. He sinks down on the bed and stares at my pussy for so long, I shuffle my feet. He grips my hips to hold me in place, then buries his nose in my center and draws in a long breath.
A tremor grips me. It’s so hot, so carnal that my knees give out from under me. I sway, then grasp his hair to hold on. He makes a pleased sound at the back of his throat.
"You smell so fucking good," he says in a low, throaty voice that is a kind of sex in itself.
He glances up at me and his eyes gleam. "I’m going to eat you now."
4
Olivia
"Wait, can we—"
He drags his tongue up my pussy lips, and oh, my fucking god, all thoughts drain from my head. He flattens his tongue and swipes it across my slit again and again. My eyes roll back in my head.What was I going to say? Doesn’t matter; not important.He takes big handfuls of my ass cheeks and squeezes so hard, I yelp. He softens his touch by curling his tongue around my clit. He sucks on it, and I mewl, hold onto his hair, and tug him even closer. He slurps on my pussy, strumming my pussy lips with his tongue, then stabs it inside my channel. He sinks his tongue inside me over and over again. Each time he mimics how he’ll fuck me with his cock, my entire body trembles. My back curves. A trembling grips me.
"I’m going to—"
He pulls his tongue out of my channel and leans back.
I sway a little, then glance down at him. "What, what are you—?"
He grips the backs of my thighs, rises to his feet, and hauls me up with him like I weigh nothing. I’m not light. At five-foot-seven, with curves that I’ve never managed to control, I weigh more than I should. But he lifts me like it’s nothing.
"Hey—" I grab hold of his shoulders. "What are you—"
He merely turns, then throws me down on the bed. I bounce twice, then shove the hair back from my face. When I look up at him, he’s staring at me with a fierce hunger on his face. He looks like he hasn’t eaten for weeks, and I’m the first morsel he’s come across and can’t wait to consume. The protest I was going to voice dies in my throat. I gulp; and watch as he wipes the back of his hand across his glistening mouth. He’s wearing me on his lips, and oh, God, that’s so freakin’ hot.
He reaches behind him, and his biceps flex as he grabs the back of his T-shirt and pulls it off. He flings it aside, yanks off his boots and socks, then shucks his pants. When he straightens, my breath catches.
I was wrong. Ripped is an understatement to describe his body. Eight-pack chest and corrugated abs, with the picture of an eagle in mid-flight inked diagonally across his pecs. The beak touches the base of his throat, one of the wings wrap around the front of his chest, and the other folds around his back, embracing him.
The claws of the bird curl down as if pointing to the magnificent shaft that points upward between his thighs. And what thighs they are—corded with muscles and lightly dusted with hair, they frame his thick, pulsing cock. I certainly chose the right man to break my dry spell.
My heart seems to have become a hummingbird, with the way it flaps in my chest. My pulse skitters against my wrists and at the base of my throat. I push up on my elbows and watch as he approaches the bed. Without taking his gaze off of my face, he bends, curls his fingers around my ankles, and tugs me forward until I am poised with my ass on the edge of the bed. One side of his lips twist. He reaches over and pulls out a package from the nightstand. I hear the crinkle of the wrapper then watch as he slides it over his cock, sheathing himself. He locks his gaze with mine, then grabs my thighs and pries them apart, so I am spread wide for him. He leans down just enough for the crown of his cock to nudge my opening.
A moan bleeds from my lips.
"Tell me your name," he growls.
I shake my head. "No names."
