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A hiss came through his parted lips, followed by, “Fuck.”
Pre-come spurted in my hand and, wanting to get a taste, I bent over and took a lick.
Another choked growl emboldened me to circle the entire crown with my tongue. Salty and musky, it tasted as good as I’d expected. This was a radically different experience from last night. Here, I was in control. It was a heady experience, having this strong, bold man growling and snarling under my touch.
I got into the rhythm of stroking him with my hand while suctioning as much as I could with my mouth. My head bobbed up and down until his hands took hold of my hair. Held in the position he wanted, he began to use my mouth. Guess playtime’s over. Luca was taking over and it was just as thrilling. I jimmied my thighs open and teased my clit as he took me further down his cock.
“Relax your throat,” he rasped out.
I nodded in understanding and tried to follow his instruction, but it was harder than I thought.
“Breathe through your nose,” he instructed.
It took a few tries to get the hang of it. Eventually, I relaxed enough that he could work his way down my throat while I hollowed out my cheeks. My jaw ached, but the discomfort was worth it. Glancing up, I was shocked by the expression on his face. His eyes were at half-mast, and his teeth were clamped down on his bottom lip. He looked almost undone. Now this, I could get addicted to.
I swallowed, constricting my throat muscles around the crown of his swelling cock. He loosed his hold on my hair and dropped his head in surrender. Raw guttural sounds spilled from his mouth. Sheesh, my new goal in life was eliciting those little noises every chance I got.
“Fuck, those are savage moves you’ve got,” he confessed. “I’m going to be wrapped around your finger with that wet mouth and pussy.”
I preened with pride. Despite my inexperience, he was clearly enjoying himself. I hummed around his cock and he jerked in response. My chest expanded. The control my itty-bitty mouth had over him was empowering. I did it again. My hair was instantly curled around his fist. With a firm grip, he took over, thrusting in and out, taking what he wanted. Teeth back on his bottom lip, he made a keening sound as if begging himself to keep a hold on his control. I stretched my neck, opening up my throat. The crown hit the back. I heard a growl, followed by a curse and a choked, “It’s too good.” Luca’s big body shuddered once, and then he was climaxing. After that, everything happened fast. He was coming in my mouth, but then he abruptly pulled out. A spray of come spewed across my chin, throat, and breasts. My hands flew up in surprise.
Breathing hard, he fell back against the headboard. His hooded silver eyes took in his seed dripping off the pointed tips of my nipples. I was almost disappointed that I didn’t get a chance to swallow, so I slid a finger through his come and sucked it dry.
Enthralled, his jaw dropped open.
“Holy fuck,” he heaved out. “So dirty. How did I get so lucky?” After a moment to recuperate, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, got on his feet, and held out his hand. “Come on, let’s take a shower and clean you off.”
I scrambled off the bed, eager at the chance to shower with him, and stumbled when he next said, “And I want to lick that sugar pussy again.”
* * *
After the shower,where he’d done exactly what he’d promised, he wrapped me in a fluffy bathrobe. It fell midcalf on me, which told me that it was his. As he tied the belt around me, my stomach let out a growl. I pressed the heel of my hand over my tummy, staring up at him with bright pink cheeks.
Chuckling, he said, “I see I have to replenish your energy after last night and this morning.”
Padding back into his bedroom, he donned a pair of sweatpants that did nothing to hide his bulge. Knowing what I knew of his skills, his walking around shirtless was distracting as hell. Taking my hand, he led me into the kitchen, which continued the white-on-white theme of the foyer and living room.
Across the long counter, there was a small table beside a floor-to-ceiling window that looked out onto Columbus Circle below. Slipping into a seat, I gazed down at the cars and buses. They resembled miniature toys from this height, zipping around a granite and marble monument in the center of the congested traffic circle.
Assuming Luca couldn’t cook, I offered, “Would you like me to make something?”
He gave me a withering look. “I can cook. My bunica made sure to teach us how to fend for ourselves, so I will be doing the cooking. What would you like to eat?”
“Anything,” I replied simply to give him as many options as possible. I didn’t want to suggest something that he had no idea of how to cook. He might say he knew how to cook, but I knew Romanian men, and the chances of a mafie prince like him cooking anything beyond a boiled egg were slim to none.
He leaned his hip against the counter and crossed his arms over his bare chest, a peeved expression on his face. Even annoyed, he looked so hot. I just wanted to lick my way across his pecs and down his abs.
“What. Do. You. Want?” he emphasized slowly.
Figuring it was best to go with something simple, I suggested, “Eggs. Any way you like. I don’t have a preference.”
“Oh, ye of little faith. You don’t think I can cook. I can see it in your eyes,” he accused as he opened the fridge and bent over, giving me a prime view of his perfect ass. God, that was so unfair.
Pulling out a carton of eggs, milk, an onion, a bell pepper, ham, and sausage, he said, “I’m going to make omleta ?araneasca. You know what that is, I assume.”
“Of course, I know what that is. It’s a peasant omelet,” I replied with a touch of scorn. Who did he think he was talking to?
“Yeah, well, you need the calories after the workout I gave you…and for what’s coming later,” he replied with an arched brow.
