Page 65 of Burn for You

Hearing him speak Italian while he’s eating me out is hotter than anything I could’ve ever imagined. “Say that again.”

“You’re just as sweet as I imagined,” he says before he rakes his teeth over my clit.

“Oh my god, Rafael,” I moan. My hips start to move of their own volition, grinding myself on his face as I feel myself getting closer to release. Then he’s pulling away. His chest heaving, and his stomach muscles flexing with every harsh breath. He never got dressed again after the waterfall. His clothes are still out thereat the water's edge. The only thing keeping me from seeing all of him right now is one pair of boxers.

“Turn around,” he growls. I do it without a second thought. “Where’s that resilience now, huh?”

“I hate you.”

He just chuckles. “How bad do you need it, May?” Every syllable of every word making me need it even more. He reaches between my legs, running a hand through my center. “You feel like you need it pretty bad.”

I just nod frantically before I feel his warm cock pressed against my ass.There goes that pair of boxers.

“Oh my god,” I moan. He’s right—I need it pretty bad.

He drags his cock through my slick core. “You’re fucking soaked.”

He teases my entrance, building me up and pissing me off every time he veers away. I look back over my shoulder. “Are you gonna keep teasing me, Rafael, or are you gonna fuck me?”

His dark eyes meet mine, that look in them that he reserves just for me. His grip tightens on my waist as he pushes into me in one thrust.

“Fuck!”

“That better?” he coos, and it just riles me up.

I push back as far as I can, the tip of him touching my innermost walls, and then I circle my hips, eliciting a guttural moan from him.

“Perfect,” I say.

“God, I wanted to take my time with you,” he says, his fingers digging into my hips. “But I don’t think I have the self-control.”

I moan at the feeling of being so full, but more so at his words. “Good.”

Rafael slowly pulls out before slamming back into me with so much force I couldn’t hold in my moan if I tried. I grab onto the metal headboard with both hands, steadying myself as he increases his pace, not allowing me any time to adjust to the size of him before he’s pounding into me with a punishing rhythm.

He runs a hand up my back, roughly dragging his palm from my ass all the way up my spine before grabbing a hold of my hair and tangling his fingers in the short strands.

“Come here,” he says, and yanks on my hair, forcing me up, my back to his front as he hits a new angle.

I lean my head back to rest on his chest. “Oh fuck, don’t stop.”

“Do you want to come, blondie?” I sigh and nod against his hard chest. “Open up then.” He closes one hand around my neck, keeping me steady, as he brings the other up to my face and stuffs two of his fingers into my open mouth. I don’t hesitate before sucking his fingers, running my tongue over them before he slowly pulls them out. “Who knew you knew how to take instructions?” he teases.

Before I can snap back, his wet fingers are trailing down my chest. He circles the moistness over my hard nipple and my body instinctively moves against him as his hand continues it’s journey down my stomach. Heat courses through my body with every inch closer to where I need them.

“Did all those Tinder dates fuck you like this?” he asks, his breath against my neck and his hand hovering against my lower stomach. “Hm, Whitley? Were you this needy for all of them?”

“Mm-mm,” I shake my head.

“Tell me I’m the only one that makes you feel like this, and you can come.”

My mind is fighting my body, not wanting to admit what is so painfully obvious. Not wanting to tell him what he wants to hear, but needing release more than anything.

“None of them made me feel like this. Just you,” I breathe.

“I’m the only one that’s made you this wet?” He drags his fingers up my pussy, bringing my moisture with him.

I nod, grinding against his hand. “Fuck, please Raf.”

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