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“No! I can’t take any more—” But now a warm wash of liquid waterfalls over me, bathing me in a new wave of glowing warmth. He licks and kisses, putting a finger back inside me. It feels so good, but then it’s gone.
But where’s his finger going? Lubed with my wetness, he’s pressing against my asshole. Shame fills me; it seems so taboo. A vibrator is one thing but to have his finger there... And then I can’t argue because his mouth is on me, working it, and it feels so good I can’t breathe.
His finger enters my ass, making me give a little squeal and his dark chuckle vibrates against my sex and I know he’s thinking of the night he put the vibrator inside me and told me he wanted to have his finger there one day, and now he’s getting what he wanted.
And—fuck—it feels so good.
He licks, he sucks, he fills the entrance of my ass with his finger. My pussy muscles tighten around him and I’m trying not to lock his head between my knees and crush his skull as I cry out. “Sav! Oh my God, Sav!”
Another intense orgasm tears through me, leaving me limp and breathless on Anni’s kitchen counter. My bare legs hang down, useless, my palms damp against the countertop. I’m curled over, panting. My entire body feels languid and loose like the warm waterfall was filled with euphoria. I’m feeling more relaxed than I’ve ever been before.
He rises from between my legs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. The gesture embarrasses me, the idea of being so wet he has it all over his face. The thought turns me on too, though, and already the satisfaction begins to leave my body.
He quickly leaves me to wash his hands.
I want more. I need more. He’s back, standing in front of me. He moves between my bare inner thighs. I can feel his heat through the clothing he wears. His hands go to my knees, resting on them. He smooths his open palms over the tops of my thighs.
He stares into my eyes. And I stare back. Dragging my tongue over my lips. Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me. I move my face toward him. Dangerously close to him. I feel my eyes closing, my lips pursing.
Kiss me. Please, Sav.
But I don’t say the words and the moment is gone. An innocent kiss on my cheek, but there’s nothing chaste about the way it feels to me. He holds my face in his big, warm hands, smelling of lemon soap, yet still the scent of my pussy lingers, filling me with shame as he kisses my forehead.
“Time for bed,” he says. He grabs my waist, lifting me from the counter, setting me on the floor. The moment is over but I’m standing here, silly, still exposed. Hurriedly I go to pull my jeans up. He pushes my hands away, doing it himself. Gently zipping them and buttoning them as well.
I stare down at him, watching as he does this sweet gesture for me. It only makes me want him more. My pussy is empty, wanting cock. I’ve felt it against my leg. Hard, demanding, wanting to fill me. I ache with need. I’m not done with him yet.
I cross my arms over my chest. “Bedtime, huh?”
“Yeah. Let’s stay away from doors and windows, shall we? The guys have it under control, but still.”
“All the guys but one lucky man,” I say, thinking of Anni and the overnight bag she had slung over her shoulder as she left.
“What are you talking about?”
“Anni. She’s going to get lucky tonight. Why can’t I?” I want to feel his need now. I take his hand in mine. He watches me, caution dancing in his eyes as I bring his hand closer to me. I lift it, placing it over my breast. He lets me. My nipple strains against my clothing. He holds my breast, cupping his fingers around me, dragging his fingertips over my soft curves. I exhale, leaning back against the countertop I’m now so familiar with.
“God. What you do to me.” He steps closer. Pressing against me. There it is, that warmth, that desire.
I tilt my chin up at him. “Kiss me.”
He rubs his hand over the back of his neck. “It’s not right. None of this is right.”
But all I want in this moment is his lips against mine. I grab his shirt, pulling him closer. “Then why does it feel right?”
“You’re engaged to be married.”
“But I’m not.”
“Yeah, but you might be.”
“But I’m not.”
“You won’t know how you feel when we get to Italy. When you see him. What if you regret everything we’ve done?”
“I won’t.”
“But you might. And I don’t want to be the cause of that regret.” He takes his hands away. Puts them on my shoulders. “You have an obligation to this family. We both do. And mine is to get you there in one piece. Not use you up before I do.”
