Page 61 of Little Dove

Instead, I ease myself down, trailing my mouth and hands along the center of his stomach, tracing each ab with my tongue. Mmm, I’ve never cared about a man’s appearance, but I can definitely appreciate Lazaro’s and how well he takes care of himself.

I finally reach the band of his pants, but I’m not brave enough to do anything about them. Instead, I carefully ease back, feeling his erection pressing against the crack of my ass. I sit there, not moving, barely breathing. There’s only a thin barrier of fabric between us, and the heat and hardness of him is heady and terrifying all at the same time.

The train meme flashes through my head once again, and I barely manage to hold back hysterical laughter, even as fear fills me. I don’t know about length since he’s still constrained, but girth, the man has it in spades, there’s no mistaking that. There is no way it’s not going to hurt when I eventually try to take itinside me, and it’s a pain I know all too well. Memories try to flood back into my mind.

“Are you alright,colombina?” Lazaro asks, his voice tight.

I swallow, closing my eyes and breathing deeply. “I really don’t want it to hurt, Lazaro,” I whisper eventually, brokenly. “It’s always hurt.”

“Amara,” he says, and I feel him reach for me.

“No,” I say, resisting when he tries to pull me away from him. “I just…just give me a minute.” He hesitates, but he slowly lowers his hands from me, his entire body tense.

I sit there for a long time, just letting myself feel and process. I feel stupid, but Lazaro waits patiently, not saying anything, letting me take as long as I need. I carefully adjust myself against him, until I finally work up the courage to slowly reach behind me and brush the back of my fingers along the length of him. It’s an awkward angle, but it gives me the freedom to quickly pull away when I feel him move under my touch. Just the slightest movement, but enough that I wrench my hand away. Again, silence. The only thing filling the space is our breathing, mine slightly laboured, and his harsher than before.

I take another big breath and reach back around, forcing myself to touch him longer, firmer. I need to get past this. Lazaro lets out a choked sound when I awkwardly stroke my hand over him. He doesn’t say a word, though I swear I can feel the heat radiating off him increase with each stroke.

Finally, I feel bold enough to cup him, letting him fill my palm. “Fuck,” he hisses, and I swear I hear something tear, but I’m too focused on what I’m doing to care. Instead, I release him and quickly scoot down so that I’m sitting on his upper thighs, and he’s now between mine. “I swear this is going to be the sweetest death,colombina,” Lazaro gasps when I take him in hand again. “You keep that up and I’ll be embarrassing myself.”

That excites me. I don’t know why, but knowing that I’m having such an effect on him, even with how little I know about pleasing a man…this kind of power is addicting. “This excites you? Just me touching you this way?” I ask him, firming my touch just enough to have him groaning.

“You have no idea,” he grinds out. “Everything you do excites me. I want to show you everything, but a man can only take so much.” He lets out a low string of Italian when I rub him once more before I finally pull my hand away.

“It’s really annoying that I can’t understand you,” I tease him lightly, planting my hands flat on his stomach and scooting forward under he’s pressed against my mound, stilling at the fullness against me. It’s different, feeling him this way, knowing how close he is to the most intimate part of me.

Another quiet litany of Italian, before he rasps out, “I’ll teach you.”

“I’ve always wanted to learn another language,” I breathe as I brush myself against him, just a slow movement of my hips, feeling the way my lips part, how my body heats at the feel of him now pressing against my clit. A clit that is starting to feel more pressure and pleasure than ever before with each light brush. “I don’t remember anything ever feeling like this,” I whisper, moving a little faster, pressing a little harder, relishing the sensations spreading through me, building slowly, one at a time. “I-I tried once,” I gasp, my brain starting to short circuit a little, making it hard to think. “I read a book that talked about a woman learning to touch herself to see what she liked. I thought it would be a good way for me to start getting better, but it felt so wrong, so weird. Nothing like this. Nothing like this pressure that’s building. I stopped, but I don’t want to stop now.” I curl my fingers into his stomach as I start to grind against him.

Oh, yeah, right there.

Lazaro releases a guttural groan, one I feel all the way deep in my bones. “Then don’t stop,” he coaxes, and I feel his body curling forward under my hands as he grips my hips tight and encourages me to move faster and harder against him. “Make yourself feel so good, Amara,” he praises. “Use me until you’re satisfied. That’s it,dolcezza. Fuck, yes, that’s it.”

I keep moving, desperately chasing the pleasure blooming within every part of me. I spread my legs wider, needing more, needing the connection. The combination of the fabric and the hardness of him against my clit sends so much sensation through me that it’s almost too much, and I can’t hold back the gasps of pleasure that tear from me.

I shamelessly move over him, grinding and using him. He whispers encouragement, helping me and guiding my movements for maximum pleasure. If this is what actual sex is going to be like, fuck, I might not survive it. Suddenly, the pressure inside me builds to overwhelming heights, and my eyes fly open. “Lazaro,” I cry, desperate to understand and figure out how to handle it.

“It’s alright,colombina,” he praises, curling forward even more, his face close to mine. “Keep going, don’t be afraid or fight it. I have you. Keep holding on to me and I’ll help you. That’s my good girl.”

He keeps uttering words, but I’m long past hearing them. I’ve lost all sense as I keep moving over him, chasing the pressure, the need, inside me. My body jerks, feeling almost pained at the sensation prickling through me, until I can’t hold back anymore. I’m terrified as I feel it swamp me, a cry of alarm and relief filling the room as I feel it peak and start to ebb. I keep moving, chasing it, until I can’t anymore, pain beginning to dull the delicious sensation, and I finally go still, gasping for breath and shaking from it all.

“Fucking beautiful,colombina. Next time, I want to see it. Fuck, I almost came in my pants. So fucking perfect.” A different kind of pleasure sweeps through me. The kind that comes from his words, and a dopey smile slides across my face. God, I am definitely glad he can’t see me right now. “How do you feel?” he asks, a hand coming up and brushing along my sweat covered brow.

“I had no idea,” I admit. “Is it always like that?” I lean into his hand, nuzzling it and the languid satisfaction warming me.

“That was only the start,dolcezza,” he promises, his voice alight with amusement. “There is so much I can’t wait for you to feel and explore.”

“More than that? Show me.” I’ve had a taste, now I want more. I want the whole damn meal.

Lazaro groans. “Amara, I know you’re feeling good after that, but I don’t want to push you.”

“You’re not. I really am good, Lazaro. Better than good, actually. Now, when I think of the dark, I’ll think about this moment instead of all the bad ones. I want more. I want more memories to hold on to when just one won’t do. I need you to show me. Please.” I reach out a trembling hand to find his jaw, tracing it lightly. “I’ll tell you if it gets to be too much.”

He hesitates for another short moment, then he mutters, “Fuck it,” before his mouth is once again on mine. I groan into his mouth at the passion and fire that ignites. This, this is different, but a good different. The kind that has me pressing myself against him as he plunders my mouth. There is no other way to describe it. I have to hold on for the ride as curls himself up so that he’s sitting upright with me in his lap, but this time, the position puts me directly over his erection.

Before I can really register it, Lazaro pulls his mouth from mine and presses heated kisses along my neck, distracting me. One arm snakes around my waist, putting just enough pressureto arch my back as he moves his mouth down over my collarbone and the top of my breasts. The other hand comes up and cups my breast, rolling my nipple expertly. I shudder at the renewed heat that starts to build again deep inside me. He orders, “You’ll tell me to stop if you need it, Amara,” but I don’t quite process it before I feel his mouth, hot, warm, and wet, encase the hard peak of my breast.

I cry out in shock, but when I feel him start to pull back, I grip the back of his head and hold him in place. Holy shit, that feels good. Maybe it’s because my nerves are so overly sensitized from my orgasm, but I don’t want him to stop, especially when each pull of his mouth sends more heat and electric shocks down to my once again throbbing clit. I grind down into him, needing more friction, more pressure, more everything. Anything to get me closer to that precipice again.

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