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Before he can put that monster inside me, I say, "Wait."
He does and something inside me cracks. This man.
"What is your name?"
His smile is sexy as hell. "Atlas."
"I'm Lucia. When I say it's a pleasure to meet you, I mean it."
He's still smiling when he lifts my legs and pushes my thighs wide so he can press the head of his big dick against the entrance to my body.
"The pleasure is mine." He thrusts forward, hard.
A string of Italian curses explode out of my mouth.
Sliding into my wet heat, he stretches my vaginal walls until I'm sure I can't take another millimeter. But do I want him to stop?
No. And he does not.
He keeps thrusting in and out, going deeper with each thrust until he's hitting my cervix. A different kind of pleasure explodes in my core. Tinged with erotic pain, it's so intense it radiates outward, devastating every nerve ending in its path.
He pistons in my body, dragging his thick penis along the hypersensitive tissue of my inner walls.
And all I want is more.
Then he discovers my breasts. Or at least that's what it feels like. Because he stops moving to play with his new toys and as frustrated as I am, I'm also experiencing an overload of sensation. Every tweak of my nipples results in a burst of pleasure in the flesh clinging so tightly to his hardon.
It's a feedback loop that I never want to stop.
I cant my pelvis, taking him deeper and suddenly he's moving his hips again, but his hands are still on my fleshy mounds. His fingers playing a catch and release game with my nipples.
He grows impossibly big inside me and then he shouts his release so loud my ears ring. It takes me over the edge again and I scream too. His name.
"Atlas!"
When he comes back from taking care of the condom, he doesn't get dressed, but joins me again on the bed. His hands explore my body, running over already sensitive skin and dipping between my legs with intent.
"Again?" I ask.
"I am nowhere near done with this gorgeous body." Delivered in that deep, masculine tone, it is both a sensual promise and a threat.
At some point, I slip into exhausted slumber only to wake sometime later with his rock-hard erection rubbing up and down my labia. My overworked clit is swollen and super sensitive, and I can't help wanting him all over again.
"More?" I ask with sleepy disbelief.
Does this man ever go soft?
"As often as you'll let me."
My body thrills to his words and I say, "As often as you like."
He likes hearing that and shifts so his bulbous head is pressing against my entrance. "You might regret that offer," he warns.
"Never." I'll drown in the pleasure I find in his body tonight and do so willingly.
His growl is the only warning I get before he surges inside me and takes me on another wild ride that leads to yet another screaming orgasm.
It doesn't surprise me when he makes good on his promise and wakes me twice more in the night. The man is a machine.
