"Ti ho cercato ovunque," I growl against her mouth, switching to Italian as my control slips. I searched everywhere for you."Sei mia. Solo mia." You're mine. Only mine.
My hands move to her waist, gripping her hard enough to leave marks. She whimpers, a sound that sends a jolt of heat straight to my cock, and her fingers fumble with the buttons of my shirt.
I don’t stop her. I let her undress me, let her touch me, because every brush of her skin against mine is a reminder of what I’ve been missing.
Her nails scrape against my chest as she pushes the fabric off my shoulders, and I groan, my lips trailing down her throat.
She’s wearing a ridiculous little dress that’s way too easy to peel off, and I make quick work of it, yanking the straps down her arms until it pools at her feet. She’s naked now, standing in front of me, and I can’t help but stare.
Ten years.Ten fucking years.And she’s still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
Her body is a map I’ve memorized, right down to every curve, every dip, and every scar. My hands move over her, possessive, demanding, and she shivers under my touch.
“Stefano,” she whispers, her voice trembling. I pick her up and press her against the window in my bedroom, my mouth capturing hers again. “Someone could see,” she gasps, but her hands are pulling me closer, her nails digging into my back.
I laugh against her skin, my lips moving to her ear. “Let them. Let them all see who you belong to.”
Her breath hitches as my teeth graze her earlobe, and I feel her thighs squeeze together, the scent of her arousal already thick in the air. I slide my hand between her legs, my fingers brushing against her wetness, and she moans, her head falling back against the glass.
“Fuck,” I whisper, my voice rough, as I slip a finger inside her. She’s so tight, so warm, and I can’t stop myself from adding a second one, stretching her, feeling her clench around me.
“Stefano,” she gasps, her hands gripping my shoulders, her nails sinking into my skin. I love the way she says my name, like it’s the only word she knows.
“Tell me you missed me,” I demand, my lips moving to her collarbone.
“I—I missed you,” she stammers, her hips rocking against my hand. “God, I missed you.”
She’s panting, her chest rising and falling rapidly as I pull back, my hands sliding down her body. Her skin is warm, flushed, and I can feel the tremble in her thighs as I kneel before her. I look up at her,hungry.
She says my name again, her hands gripping the edge of the window behind her for support.
“Open for me,” I command, my voice a growl that leaves no room for argument. Her breath hitches, but she obeys, her legs parting slowly, revealing the slick, glistening heat between her thighs.
I lean in, my breath hot against her skin. My lips trail up her thigh, slowly, deliberately, savoring the way her muscles tense under my touch.
When I reach the apex of her thighs, I pause, hovering just above her, teasing her,torturingher.
“Stefano, please,” she gasps, her hips arching toward me, desperate for contact.
I chuckle as she whimpers. “So eager,” I murmur, my lips brushing against her folds, and she moans, hips bucking. I grip her thighs, holding her still, and she cries out, her nails scratching at the surface behind her.
And then I dive in.
My tongue licks a slow, deliberate stripe up her slit, and she gasps. I savor the taste of her, the way she clenches around nothing, desperate for more. I lick her again, this time swirling my tongue around her clit, and she moans, her hips jerking against me.
“Stefano,please,” she begs, her voice desperate. My tongue flicks over her clit in quick, firm strokes. She cries out, her hands tangling in my hair, pulling me closer, and I groan, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through me.
“You taste so fucking good.” My tongue delves into her, laving her with long, slow strokes, and then I pull back slightly, blowing cool air against her wet, sensitive skin.
“Stefano,please,” she sobs again, her nails digging into my scalp, and I growl, my tongue returning to her clit, flicking it rapidly.
She cries out, her body arching, and I feel her tightening around my tongue, her orgasm building. I slide a finger into her, curling it against her inner walls, and she screams, her body shuddering as she comes hard, her juices spilling over my tongue.
I lick her through her orgasm, savoring her taste, her scent, her sounds. She’s panting, her body limp, but I’m not done. I pull back slightly, looking up at her—her gaze is hazy, her lips parted as she struggles to catch her breath.
“You’re not done yet.” I return to her, my tongue circling her clit, and she gasps, her hips jerking once more. I add a second finger, thrusting into her hard, and she cries out.
“Stefano, I can’t,” she gasps, her hands gripping my shoulders, but I ignore her, my tongue working her clit, my fingers thrusting into her. I can feel her tightening and I know she’s close again.