Page 73 of His Passerotta

“Say it.”

I close my eyes when he grinds the heel of his palm against my clit, again and again. “Say it, passerotta.”

“I want your mouth on my pussy,” I practically moan, my back arching.

“Yes ma’am.” He snickers before ripping off my panties, letting the air kiss my exposed sex before his face covers it.

“Ahh,” I groan when his tongue runs up my slit and stops on a bundle of nerves controlling my every thought. Sensation moves from that bundle outward, shooting into the tips of my curled toes and causing half my muscles to tense, the other half to loosen.

He slips a finger inside me, massaging my walls as he slides in and out, and all I can think about is his dick replacing that finger. What it would feel like. How it would be afterward. I’ve never felt out of control of myself with a man before, but right now, my body feels more like it belongs to him than it does to me.

He strokes and sucks and licks every piece of sensitive flesh, pulling moans from deep within my chest.

“God, you taste good,” he growls before shoving his tongue inside of me. He grinds his palm against my clit while fucking me with his tongue, moaning like a starved animal diving into a feast. Or hell, moaning like I did when I ate cake a while ago.

My palms slap against metal, sending a bang reverberating throughout the kitchen. Tension winds tighter and tighter until it’s damn near painful, but in the best way.

I slide my hands up above my head, gripping the edge of the counter while my hips arch. My legs spread wider until my sandals plant on the counter and I’m served up like a meal for Anthony. I can feel the vulnerability enveloping me, and normally, it’s an uncomfortable feeling. Too uncomfortable. This is the time when I’d pull the guy away and move on to sex.

But I don’t stop him. I can’t. It feels so goddamn good, my body would never allow my mind to push him away.

His mouth moves to my clit while two of his fingers take over fucking me. The tension in my core winds so tightly, it pulls my legs together until I’m nearly about to suffocate Anthony.

The release isn’t so much a snap as it is a squeeze, draining me of all stress and drowning me in ecstasy. I let out one last loud moan, my lips open wide, before my ass falls to the counter. Anthony keeps licking, his movements slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring it. Savoring me.

My cheeks heat with embarrassment, but I feel too good to let it take over.

When he’s done, he kisses my thigh and slowly lifts, his breaths coming out fast and heavy.

“Fuck, that was good.” He wipes his mouth on his shirt, making my cheeks heat even more.

“I’m glad you think so.”

His face flickers with disappointment, like he believes I’m serious, but when our eyes meet, he must know I’m teasing because he grins. “Not too bad for you, I hope?”

I brace myself on my elbows and shrug. “It was okay.”

He laughs. “Wow, now I regret not killing you.”

My jaw drops, and I nudge him with my leg. “Asshole.” I sit up straight and close my eyes as he kisses me, more passionately than I expect.

Both my hands move to his face as I match his intensity. When we pull away, I wrap my arms around him and lay my head against his chest.

“Seriously, that was… That was really fucking good.”

He kisses my head and hugs me back. “I’m glad you liked it, but I’m not done.”

“Hmm?” I pull away to look at him.

He smiles. “Let me take you home with me.”

A shiver slithers across my shoulders when he pushes my hair back, his fingertips grazing sensitive flesh. The mental image of us back in his apartment sends another shiver down my spine, and I think about him fucking me. Giving up my control to him yet again. I like it more than I ever thought I would.

“Okay.”

“Yeah?”

I nod.

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