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Without a word, I slowly rise up from my seat, lifting the edges of my skirt and dropping my panties to the floor.
ChapterTwenty-Seven
JUNE
“You’re really just going to stand there, aren’t you? You’re going to make me work for it?” he says as he gazes at me, his eyes unable to hide his undeniable lust.
“Maybe I want to see how badly you really want it,” I tease, kicking my panties into the corner of the room and lifting my skirt even higher.
He deliberates, sitting back again and staring me up and down. Feeling his predatory, hungry gaze on me is such a unique rush, something no man back home could ever come close to replicating.
Motioning for me to come forward, he bites his lip in fevered anticipation of my wet, slick pussy. “Come over here.”
I’ve been horny since the moment I walked in here, and it’s gotten so much harder to hide. I’m nearly dripping onto the floor, and I’m uncertain that I’ll have the restraint to draw this out in a slow and sweet act of worship.
His cock throbs in his pants, and he adjusts it a bit as I step over to him with deliberate, delicate steps. He wants to be whipped up into madness by the denial of my touch, only to be released as soon as I give myself to him.
My only choice is to give him exactly what he wants.
As I draw nearer, he wraps his hands around the backs of my thighs, feeling up and down my ass and legs as he pulls me closer to his face. I tremble as my craving for his touch grows beyond my control. I’m too far gone now. My body belongs to him.
Out of petty spite, he traces along the outline of my labia to torment me. The warmth of his tongue against my skin sends chills up my spine, and I’m tempted to press my pussy closer to his mouth in a desperate attempt to feel the full length of his tongue.
“Don’t get greedy. You’re going to let me take my time with you. Do you understand?” he growls with a sinister grin.
My breath shudders as my vulva throbs for him. “I don’t think you’ll be able to last too much longer with my pussy in your face, so I’m not worried.”
Perhaps I have no idea what I’ve tempted from him. Will he edge me over and over, refusing to allow my release just for denying his power over me? What would he do if I couldn’t control myself? I’m dying to find out, but I fear that I don’t have the fortitude to fight my orgasm when it starts to build.
As if to confirm my fear, he presses his tongue along the slit of my pussy, teasing the tip of my clit as his tongue slips between the soft, fleshy lips.
“Oh, fuck,” I moan, unable to hold back.
I place my hands on the back of his head, playing with his hair as he begins to work his tongue between my labia. His movements are so intentional, and it’s still uncanny to me that he’s so good at pleasuring me without having studied my body for years on end.
Fighting for control over myself, I try to relax my legs, which only makes it more difficult. If he’s going to make me cum, I at least want to draw out the process. I can’t give him all of the satisfaction right away.
“You’re going to cum for me whether you want to or not, so you’d better just relax and let it happen,” he warns as he slides two fingers inside of me.
A whimper escapes me as he pulls his fingers slightly forward, pressing on my g-spot and increasing the sensitivity in my clit. I’ve always heard that men were terrible at eating pussy, that they’re all selfish lovers who won’t even do so little as to find their woman’s clit. Marcello must have set out to defy such a harsh judgment, and he’s certainly proven himself.
He opens my legs a bit with his other hand, and I’m forced to stand on my toes to give him better access. After running his tongue up the length of my pussy, he begins to kiss and suck on my clit. He alternates between the two sensations, keeping me on edge as I crave one after the next.
As he brings me closer still, I can feel an orgasm building under my hot, wet skin. I’m not ready yet – I need to let this last as long as possible. I want it to go on forever, but I’ll take whatever I can get to prolong this ecstasy. It’s a fantasy I’ve held of Marcello for so long that I need to see it through to the very end.
“I can tell that you’re close already. Damn, you’re so easy,” he teases, resuming the act without missing a beat.
“Fuck you,” I say as my breath escapes me.
My arousal begins to drip down my leg, and all I can do is succumb to his will by letting go, allowing myself to cum in his mouth just as he wants.
He senses this shift in my demeanor, sucking harder and kissing faster until I begin to moan out loud.
The orgasm takes over, and I’m sent over the edge in a matter of minutes. I cry out, entirely unbothered by the potential presence of others who might be in the house. My mind is blank, and behind my eyelids is nothing but the sweet vermilion blankness of pure euphoria.
My legs begin to tremble again, and I’m lucky that Marcello has the presence of mind to catch me before my knees fall weak and fail me. He continues to finger me as I ride out the last remnants of my climax, but now all I want is to feel his cock deep inside of me.
I reach down and begin to unzip his pants, rubbing his huge bulge before I pull it out and rub it on my soaking wet lips. He gasps quietly, and the thrill of his momentary loss of control increases my desperation to inhuman levels. How is it possible to want someone so terribly? How does the human race get anything done when we could be doing this?
