Page 21 of And Back

His fingers thread through my hair as he angles his head to deepen the kiss further. The passion between us builds like an unstoppable wave, crashing over everything in its path. Every touch is electric; every movement is synchronized in a dance we've both longed for.

Our breathing becomes ragged as we lose ourselves in each other. There's no room for doubt or fear here—only pure emotion driving us forward.

Virgilio’s lips leave mine, and he gently leads me to the bed. The cool sheets send a shiver up my spine as he sits me down. My breath comes in shallow gasps, my body humming with anticipation. He kneels before me, his eyes dark with desire.

With hurried, almost frantic movements, he begins to remove my nightgown. The silk slides off my skin, leaving me bare before him. His eyes roam over my body, and I feel a flush spread across my cheeks, both from the chill of the room and the heat of his gaze.

"You’ve been a bad girl, Zoe," he whispers, his voice dripping with a mixture of reprimand and desire. "Putting yourself in danger like that."

His words send a thrill through me, a mix of fear and excitement. I open my mouth to respond, but he cuts me off with a sharp look.

"No, you’re not allowed to talk back on this matter," he commands.

I bite my lip, nodding, my body trembling with anticipation and need. He lifts my legs, placing them on his broad shoulders, positioning himself perfectly between my thighs. My heart races as I watch him lean in closer. The first touch of his tongue against my most intimate place sends a jolt through my body.

"Virgilio," I gasp, my hands flying to his head. One hand tangles in his short hair while the other grips the edge of the bed for support.

He doesn't respond with words; instead, he groans against me, the vibration adding another layer of sensation that makes me arch my back. His tongue is rough and insistent, probing deep inside me in a way that leaves me trembling.

"I can’t believe you thought you could get away with it," he murmurs against my skin, his breath hot and tantalizing. "You need to be taught a lesson."

I can't help but moan as he continues his assault on my senses. My hips start to move of their own accord, seeking more of the delicious friction he provides. His tongue fucks me with a relentless rhythm that has me seeing stars.

"Oh god," I whisper, feeling the pressure building within me. Each thrust of his tongue pushes me closer to the edge.

My grip on his head tightens as I feel myself teetering on the brink of release. My hips wiggle and buck against him uncontrollably, driven by an all-consuming need for more.

"Please," I beg, though I'm not sure what I'm asking for—more of this exquisite torture or release from it.

Just when I think I can't take it anymore, when I'm about to shatter into a million pieces, he pulls back abruptly. His mouth leaves me aching and empty.

I open my eyes and meet his intense gaze. His lips glisten with the evidence of his efforts, and there's a feral look in his eyes that makes my breath catch.

"Not yet," he says, a wicked smile playing on his lips. "You haven’t earned it."

He positions two fingers at my entrance, teasing me with just the tip. I bite my lip, trying to hold back the whimper threatening to escape. And then he slides them inside me, so slowly that it's almost torturous. The sensation sends a jolt through my body, and I can't help but moan.

"Virgilio," I gasp, needing more, needing him to fill me completely.

He doesn't respond, just continues to move his fingers in and out at that agonizingly slow pace. Each movement is deliberate, controlled. His eyes never leave mine, watching every reaction with an intensity that makes my skin prickle.

"Please," I beg, my voice breaking with desperation. "Faster."

But he refuses. A small, almost cruel smile plays on his lips as he keeps the same slow rhythm. It's driving me mad—the way he's taking his time, savoring every moment while I'm on the brink of losing control.

The pressure builds inside me again, a familiar tightening that promises release. My hips start to move of their own accord, seeking more friction, more speed. But he holds me steady with his other hand on my thigh, keeping me in place as he continues his slow torture.

"Virgilio," I whimper, feeling myself nearing the edge once more.

He stills his movements for a moment, and I think he's going to give in to my pleas. But then he resumes at that maddeningly slow pace, drawing out every sensation until I'm trembling with need.

"You think you can just do as you please?" he taunts, his voice a low growl. "That there won’t be consequences?"

"I'm sorry," I gasp, my voice barely a whisper.

"Sorry isn’t good enough," he replies, his tone firm. "You need to learn your place."

Just when I'm about to cum again—when I'm right there on the precipice—he pulls his fingers out completely. My eyes fly open in shock and frustration, a whimper escaping my lips.

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