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His other hand grasps my hip, and I moan softly at the pleasurable bite of his thick fingers. My hand encircles his wrist, reluctantly removing his hold as I walk around his body to see the art permanently etched into his olive skin.
A massive lion roars silently at me from between his solid arms. Only the face is depicted, but it covers his back completely, the flowing mane curling around his biceps and shoulder muscles.
He breathes deep when my fingers trace the thick whorls and expert shading that brings the piece to life. I know without a doubt this artist did the slithering snake around his arm.
“It’s perfect,” I whisper.
Leo pulls me around. “You’re perfect.” His eyes shine. “Now lie down for me, Kyra. I want your stunning body spread out on that bed as I devour you.”
I do what he says, inching backward until my butt meets the bed. I climb up, shuffling onto the silky sheets until I get to the middle. I prop myself up on my elbows and a flush races over my chest as his eyes feast on the sight in front of him.
“Open your legs, little girl,” he says coolly, fetching the wine from the table.
I part them slowly as he climbs onto the bed with me. His hard cock bobs as he makes his way to me on his knees, spreading me wider as his knees meet my thighs and he forces them up the bed. The stretch is a delicious ache, and the movement exposes all of my soaking pussy to his gaze.
His eyes are fixed firmly on mine as he braces himself over me, though.
“Color?” he asks, lifting the carafe threateningly above my chest.
“Green,” I nod, eying the wine he’s about to pour over me.
My hands grip the light sheets at my sides and I peer nervously up at him as he tips the jug that last inch, the first splash of dark liquid a sinful shock to my system.
I struggle to reconcile the spark of pleasure with the blessed blood of Christ that trickles over the cross above my heart and the swell of my naked breasts, soaking the space at my sides.
The turbulent thoughts are wiped from my mind when he sucks my wet nipple into his hot mouth. His tongue laves the hard peak, and he moves in wider circles, drinking up every drop of wine he spilled. The other breast gets the same attention and I watch intently, the blood rushing in my ears, as he traces the heavy cross, cleaning and dirtying it with each lap of his wicked tongue.
“Hands above your head,” he demands, slipping further down the bed until he’s face to face with my wet, swollen pussy.
I do as I’m told, stopping myself from closing my legs as he stares, bringing the jug over my hips. An evil grin lifts his lips as he tips the wine over me.
My legs snap up at the torturous lash against my most sensitive flesh. I whimper as he shoves my thigh into the bed, pouring more between my folds. He stretches over me to put the jug down, and his lips are on me a second later, his firm hands steadying my legs as they try to close around his head.
His tongue circles my clit and I gasp as he sucks the bud hard, his teeth grazing me and wringing another powerful wave of arousal from me. He licks and sucks every last drop of wine from my skin, and when he’s done, his warm tongue dips shallowly into my center, tasting my wetness.
He returns to my clit, the lewd sucking sound sparking an answering moan from me. Pleasure ratchets higher and higher with every swipe of his tongue and his palms cover my breasts when he feels me getting close, my body growing tense beneath his mouth.
He pinches my nipples hard, nipping my clit and forcing all the air from my lungs. I’m boneless to his assault as his touch softens and he flattens his slippery tongue against me, the white-hot shocks morphing into warm burning waves that swell higher and race faster to the shore as I get closer to orgasm.
He groans as the waves start to break and I scream his name, coming hard against his tongue. His licks don’t stop, and my body quakes as he teases my clit, blissfully tormenting me through the end of my climax.
I’ve barely recovered when he reaches for the wine, settling himself between my thighs. He doesn’t hesitate before covering my oversensitive pussy again. I move slowly when he hands me the empty carafe to put back on the table, trying not to jostle the wine on and around me, and when I turn back, I immediately still, my eyes locked on the head of his cock poised at my entrance.
“Color,” he whispers, lowering himself over me, his forearms on either side of my head.
“Green,” I breathe against his lips, right before his mouth meets mine.
I melt into his kiss, my arms flying to his shoulders at the first slip of his hard length through my wine-stained folds. He slides himself up and down, his hips setting an agonizing pace as his tongue fucks my mouth and his chest grazes my pointed nipples. I taste my arousal mixed with the fruity wine and my inner muscles clench emptily, pleading for him to enter me.
I break away from his lips. “I need you,” I say.
“You have me, Kyra,” he responds. “Relax and breathe,” he instructs, aligning his dull tip with my wet center.
I brace myself with his shoulders, sucking in a deep breath as he pushes into me.
He doesn’t slow, thrusting right through the painful barrier. The movement forces a strangled whimper from me, but he continues on, stretching my channel with his thick cock and settling against a deep, unreached part of me as I try desperately to process it all.
“Fuck, you feel incredible.”
