Page 14 of Sexted By a Stranger
His hand drifted lower, deftly tugging the hem of my shirt free. Long fingers slipped beneath, brushing the soft skin of my waist, sparking a tingling current that made my knees weak. His eyes darkened, a hungry edge to them. "Easy, now."
His hand moved upward, pausing at the buttons of my collar. Those brown eyes locked onto mine—part question, part certainty. I just stared back, my silence an invitation.
Pleased, he made quick work of my shirt, then stripped away every layer until my bare breasts, usually touched only by my own hands, were exposed to his gaze. His eyes burned hotter, and I turned my face away, feeling utterly vulnerable.
He didn't hesitate, unbuttoning his own shirt with casual ease, revealing a chiseled chest and taut abs, his skin glowing with a healthy tan. Before I could process, he pulled me back into his arms. The press of his bare skin against mine made his desire unmistakable, hard and urgent.
My legs gave out, and I sank onto the couch. He followed, one hand braced beside me, leaning in close. His lips found my neck, trailing downward, teeth grazing my collarbone. His tongue flicked out, tracing the curve of my chest, the wet heat making my scalp tingle.
A low moan escaped me, heat pooling in my core, my panties already soaked.
His hand found one stiff nipple, kneading and tugging like it was a toy he'd just discovered. Before I could react, his mouth claimed the other, sucking gently, his tongue circling in slow, deliberate swirls.
I bit back a moan, my hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging into his muscle for any kind of anchor. Under his touch, my mind blurred, lost in sensation. At some point, he'd stripped us both bare, and I found myself no longer beneath him but perched on his lap.
My back pressed against his chest, my hips flush against his throbbing desire, so hot it made me want to squirm away. But his strong arms held me fast. His fingers brushed my reddened nipple, and my body melted, pliant under his control.
He wasn't done. His other hand slid downward, reaching between my thighs. I instinctively clamped my legs shut.
"Sheila, open your legs," he commanded, his palm rubbing the sensitive skin at the root of my thighs, grazing my drenched core.
"So sensitive, huh?" he teased, chuckling low.
I shot him a glare, a soft huff escaping me, but he ignored my defiance, his fingers beginning a slow, deliberate exploration. He found my clit with unnerving precision, and my body tensed, a sharp gasp escaping.
"Ah-" A quick, high-pitched moan broke free. He'd found a switch and was determined to play with it, his fingers relentless.
"Luca…" His name slipped out, my control unraveling.
"Sheila, that's it. Say my name. I love hearing you," he coaxed, his fingers never pausing.
Sensing my overwhelming need, he finally eased up, giving me a moment to catch my breath. But then his fingers dipped lower, sliding into my slick folds, teasing them apart and back together, slipping in and out. Soon, his hand was slick with my arousal.
"Bed, let's go to bed," I gasped, my voice shaky but resolute, my cheeks burning. His eyes flashed with surprise, then curved into a pleased smile.
"Yes, ma'am."
He scooped me up effortlessly, carrying me toward the bedroom. My arms looped around his neck, my heart racing like it might explode, my body thrumming with anticipation for what was to come.
He kicked the door shut behind us, the sound sharp and final, and then I was lowered onto the bed with a gentleness that took me by surprise, the cool sheets brushing against my flushed skin. His gaze locked onto mine, a mix of raw desire and tenderness that stole my breath. "You're shaking," he murmured, his voice low, a rumble that sent shivers down my spine.
"I'm fine," I breathed, though my voice barely registered above a whisper. Fine? No, I wasn't fine. I was electrified, every nerve in my body alive with a hunger I hadn't known I was capable of feeling.
He leaned down, capturing my lips in a deep, consuming kiss. His tongue tangled with mine, exploring with a possessive edge. I tasted the faint mint of his breath, his cologne enveloping me, making my head spin. My hands roamed his back, feeling the flex and release of his muscles. I gripped him tightly, wanting to pull him closer. His hands traced from my shoulders, down my arms, and settled on my waist. His fingers pressed into my skin, like he could never get enough.
His kisses trailed lower, leaving a trail of heat across my skin. He lingered at my neck, nipping and sucking, drawing soft moans from me. Then my collarbone, his tongue tracing its delicate lines, making me arch into him without thinking.
When he reached my chest, he took his time, caressing slowly. His lips closed around one nipple, teasing and sucking,while his hand gently kneaded the other. The sensation was overwhelming, my breaths coming in gasps as my fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. But when he reached my waist, he paused, utterly focused. His hands gripped my sides, thumbs brushing my hipbones, lips kissing every inch, his tongue circling, even dipping into my navel, making me squirm and giggle. He moved lower, his hands gently parting my thighs. He looked up, silently asking for permission. A wave of shyness hit me, but his gaze was so reassuring it calmed my nerves. I nodded, my heart hammering so loud I thought it might burst.
He lowered his head, and the first touch of his tongue on my most intimate spot made me gasp, pleasure crashing over me like a wave. His movements were skilled, lips and tongue working in perfect sync, guiding me to heights I'd never known. He was slow, deliberate, like he was savoring me, cherishing me. My body responded on its own, back arching, hands clutching the sheets. It was all so new, so intense, almost too much to handle. He seemed to read my every reaction, adjusting his rhythm and pressure. When he found that perfect spot, I cried out, hips instinctively pressing toward him.
He didn't stop, guiding me relentlessly until I shattered. "Luca!"I called his name, my body trembling uncontrollably as pleasure consumed me. He held my hips steady, anchoring me through the overwhelming release. When he finally pulled back, his lips glistened, and his eyes were dark with hunger. He stood, his erection straining, and I couldn't help but stare, my mouth dry. He was… intimidatingly perfect.
He climbed onto the bed, settling between my legs, his hands framing my waist again, thumbs brushing the dip of my hips. "You okay?" he asked, his voice softer now, almost gentle.
I nodded, too breathless to speak. He leaned down, kissing me deeply, and I tasted myself on his lips—a strange, intimatethrill. His cock pressed against my entrance, and I tensed, my nerves flaring.
He paused, sensing my hesitation. "Sheila," he said, his voice low and steady, "if you're not ready, we can stop. "
