Page 40 of Giovanni
“Dinner, massage, and sex. That sounds perfect.”
“I like where this is going. Let’s enjoy this meal. I want to make sure you’re well-fed after your long day.” His tone is caring, and his wink is suggestive. “Plus, you’ll need a carb load for your cardio workout.”
I laugh. My priorities of working tonight fade as I push aside my caseload for another night of fun with him. A long, drawn-out night of fun, I hope. When I think dinner will be quick and easy, Giovanni turns dinner into another romantic affair. He picks up a fork, skewering a piece of grilled salmon and holding it to my lips. I open my mouth, letting him feed me, and savor the rich, flavorful taste of the fish.
There’s something deeply intimate about this gesture, and I relax further into the moment. We share the same fork, and between bites that he carefully feeds me, we engage in light conversation about his day and his clients while looking at theskyline surrounding us. He asks about my day, but I want to escape work and not think about it anymore. He gets the hint when I respectfully decline.
The dinner progresses slowly, with Giovanni taking his time to ensure I enjoy every bite. It’s not just about the food, but the experience—being cared for, the gentleness of the moment. It’s a side of him that I find both endearing and attractive.
A gentle giant, if I were to be honest, and yet something I might not ever voice to him. He might not like that since he’s more sensitive than I initially realized, and I’d never intentionally hurt his feelings.Once we finish our meal, he stands and offers his hand.
“Ready for that massage?”
“Shouldn’t we clean all this up first?”
“No. I’ve been very patient, but watching that sauce glisten on your lips has me wanting them to glisten with something else.”
“Oh.”
My eyebrows raise at his blatant intention. His usual gentleness, juxtaposed with this sudden boldness, catches me off guard. Not one for being very good at giving men oral sex, a sudden wave of nervousness runs through me.
“I mean, if you’re comfortable with that,” he quickly adds, noticing the change in my expression.
His tone is now softer, a reminder of his constant consideration for my feelings. He has always been respectful and understanding, creating a space where I feel safe and valued. This moment, while unexpected, doesn’t change that.
“Yes, I’m okay with it. Just . . . maybe guide me a bit on how you like it?”
I feel insecure about stating the obvious, but surely men can tell experience from inexperience. If I set the expectations low,he won’t be disappointed. Or we can move on to other things if he is.
“Of course,” he assures me with a look of relief and desire mingling in his eyes. “We’ll take it slow. I just want to be close to you, Kacie.”
I appreciate his honesty and his willingness to communicate openly. His sensitivity, far from being a weakness, is something I’ve come to admire deeply. He interweaves our fingers, sending a comforting squeeze through his into mine as we walk down the hall to his bedroom.
There is no music this time, only the soft light from the bathroom cascading across the bed as if my performance takes center stage. It’s a little daunting. Not even remembering the last time I gave a man oral sex, I release his hand to reach for his shirt.
He tsks before saying, “I promised you a massage.”
My mind is so preoccupied with the other thing that I forgot he’s working on my muscles first. My shoulders sag in relief and I cast him an easy smile.
“Of course. Where do you want me?”
“On the bed, face down.”
He throws back the bedding to the luxurious sheets and adjusts the pillows.
“First, you need to get naked.”
He raises a suggestive eyebrow before returning to me. His hands are eagerly raising my blouse above my head, groaning when he catches sight of my breasts and deposits kisses on the top of each one. His fingers quickly unfasten my bra, tossing it onto his dresser before dipping to catch a nipple in his mouth.
The heat from his mouth creates a tingling sensation in my core that wants so much more than a massage. His tongue flicks my nipple into a hard bud, then applies pressure, causing me to shrink against the forceful suction he’s administering. It’s toomuch attention to one area and not enough to another. I reach for the hem of his shirt, tugging at it to come off. He takes immediate action by whipping it over his head and onto the floor to return to suckle at my other breast.
My body arches toward his lips while he traces a trail of kisses between them. I moan and writhe as his tongue swirls my sensitive peaks. One hand holds onto his shoulder while the other grips his soft hair, urging him to go lower. I’m greedy, wanting oral from him without having given it yet. He’s been generous so far, and with how pleasing he’s been to me, I want to be equally pleasing to him.
His hands wander down to the waistband of my skirt. With one swift tug, he pulls it down, revealing my legs and the delicate lace panties I’m wearing. His gaze lingers on them for a moment before he reaches forward and slides them off, exposing my slick folds.
“Step out.”
His voice is raspy as I step out of the ring of my skirt, panties, and shoes with his assistance. Standing naked over him while he kneels is empowering and unsettling. But it’s all forgotten when he locks his eyes on my swollen lips, taking in the sight of me. Without hesitation, he leans forward and flicks his tongue against me, tasting me. His fingers separate my lips, exposing my sensitive bud to him, and I gasp in pleasure.
