Page 116 of 7+Us Makes Nine

I wanted her so badly that it hurt. I pulled her to my bedroom, managing to remove all her clothes before I pushed her to my bed. I gave myself several seconds to admire her body, drinking in every single detail.

Her big breasts were every man’s dream. Her shaved pussy was just the way I liked them the best—pink, small, and extremely sensitive. Then there was her hips and ass that taunted me whenever she wore clothes that fit her too tightly.

“Touch yourself,” I told her, starting to undress. “I need to see you pleasure yourself.”

A gasp left her lips followed by a slight blush. She separated her legs and supported herself with one hand while she let the other roam over her. I kicked my pants and boxers to the side when she rubbed her nipples, enjoying too much the way her pupils dilated when she saw me in all my naked glory.

I sat in the armchair across from her and stroked my cock, telling myself to be patient. Her hand landed on her sweet pussy, her fingers sliding through her puffy folds, and my heart beat faster. I wanted to devour her, touch her, own her. Her scent enveloped me, the sight of her bringing herself to orgasm urging me to slam into her and rip her apart.

Her movements quickened, her moans growing louder

as she thrashed on my bed. She was completely lost in her pleasure, and my cock was going to fucking explode from just watching her.

“Finger yourself.”

She moved to her knees without even breaking our eye contact and brought her other hand to her mound. Rubbing her clit fast, she thrust a finger inside of her.

“Add one more,” I ordered her, my mouth completely dry from desire. She pushed her index finger inside, fucking herself faster, and I saw she was close. “One more.” Her eyes were so dark now, slightly widening in surprise, but she didn’t hesitate to obey me. I jerked myself faster, my dick throbbing hard with the bursting pleasure.

Several moments later I repeated, “One more.”

“Ah! Giovanni!”

She added the fourth finger, the sounds of her moans ripping through the air, and I had to stop jerking if I didn’t want to come right away. She threw her head back and screamed, calling my name at the peak of her pleasure, and I couldn’t breathe. She was too fucking beautiful to watch.

I jumped from the armchair and snatched the condom from the nightstand. I was already on her, pinning her arms below her head with one hand while I guided my cock into her pussy.

“You’re mine, Arianna.” I thrust my cock to the brim, shuddering from the sudden shot of sizzling pleasure.

“Ah! Yes! Yours!”

She wrapped her legs around my waist, pulling me closer to her, which spurred me to move faster.

“Such a good, warm pussy. I can’t get enough of you.”

I covered her lips with mine and opened her mouth, forcing my tongue inside. Our tongues slid against each other, the raw intensity of our kiss matching the intensity of my cock in her tight warmth, and I knew I was going to come any second.

My balls tightened just as her walls squeezed me, and we both came together, shouting each other’s name in delirium. Once we were finished, I moved off of her and pulled her warm body close to mine.

I’m not sure if it was the wine or the natural attraction we felt toward each other, but once again, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other.

There was something different this time around—something far more intimate than the times we’d hooked up before.

Arianna had fallen asleep peacefully in my arms, her face looking so relaxed. I pressed my face to her hair, breathing in her fresh scent. Gently, I kissed the top of her head and wrapped my arms more securely around her.

“I’m not that kind of girl.”

I reflected on what she’d told me earlier. Deep down, I had already known there was something innocent and pure about her when we first met. I supposed that was partially what had brought forward my natural instinct to protect her in the first place. And even when she agreed to go with me to go to a private room, I’d had a feeling it wasn’t something she would normally do. Despite the fact that she looked like a living goddess, there had been and still remained something childlike about her. Back at the club, she had reminded me of a rebellious teenager, wanting to test the waters and just do something daring for the hell of it.

Now I understood why. She had been there for the same reason I had—commemorating her last moment of freedom.

I laughed to myself. How ironic was it that in attempts to seize our last opportunity for a carefree fling, we both had unknowingly given up our last chance to be with other people.

The final opportunity to be with other people?

Was that truly the case? I ran a hand through my hair, startled by the thought. As much as I loved women and had been a self-defined playboy since I was a teenager, never in a million years would I have anticipated being in this position just two weeks ago? When I’d made a deal with my father, I had been thoroughly convinced that this marriage would solely be on paper and hadn’t anticipated on any actual emotional investment.

Yet, as I glanced down at Arianna Marino sleeping peacefully on my chest, it was impossible to ignore or deny how right she felt in my arms.

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