Page 62 of Keeping My Bride

His thumb keeps the pressure on my tight puckered hole as his tongue finds my clit, licking me into oblivion. His tongue, mouth and lips feel so good against me that I turn into a boneless mess, gripping the linen tablecloth beneath me in a death grip. “Luca!” I cry out.

His thumb penetrates me, making the sensations tenfold, and I suck in a strangled breath. “Oh god, oh god!” I cry out.

“God can’t help you now,” he growls from behind me before his mouth returns to my clit.

Incoherent words tumble out of my mouth as the pleasure builds up inside of me until I finally reach the peak and drop over the edge. I shatter into a million pieces on his tongue as he fucks my tight hole with his thumb, dragging the pleasure out of me with every movement.

A loud moan rips from my throat as the pleasurable waves keep crashing through my body. “Please!” I beg, and I don’t even know what I’m asking for at this point.

But he makes the decision for me, pulling out his thumb and licking my clit slowly once…twice…three times before he finally stops.

My fingers grip the tablecloth, afraid to let go because my legs feel like jelly, and I don’t think they could support my weight right now.

“That was the best dessert I’ve ever had,” I hear Luca say from behind me. He wipes his mouth with his napkin and then gently pulls down my dress. He doesn’t put my thong back on me, so I have no idea where that went.

“Are you ready to leave?” he asks calmly like nothing even happened, like he didn’t just completely wreck me in the middle of the restaurant.

“I…I don’t think…I can walk,” I say between staggered breaths.

I see several hundred-dollar bills flutter to the table before he lifts me up and into his arms. My head rests against his chest as we leave the restaurant.

Benito is waiting at the car, and he flashes us a rare, shy smile as he opens the back door. “Dinner was good?” he asks.

“It was good. But the dessert was fucking delicious,” Luca says, making me blush.

Once we’re in the backseat, Luca pulls me to him, and I fall asleep in his lap on the ride home. My last coherent thought is that this man, my husband, is going to be the death of me.

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