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I can't wait to taste her sweet release, and I don't have to wait long as it comes after dining on her for a few minutes. My tongue treats her pussy like another mouth to kiss, lapping over it, sliding my tongue in and out of her walls until I bring a hand up to help me release her climax again.
One finger, and then two, stroke in and out of Evelyn. Her hips writhe against my face. When I glance up, she's holding a pillow over her face to stop herself from making too much noise. My ego won't let that stand as I snatch the pillow away from her.
"Let me hear you come for me, mio dolce."
8
EVELYN
"Alessandro," I whimper his name as the firm softness of his tongue curls around my clit.
His fingers are pulling another orgasm out of me. The climax is powerful and long overdue. My eyes water, my core tightens, and my head slams onto the mattress with my back arching into the air. I have no idea where the blanket is or where Alessandro tossed that pillow.
All I know is I want to feel every inch of him fucking the shit out of me, but that's something I don't want to do. I can't. This is just a thank you for being compliant. So I take it. I take every flick of his tongue, every suckle of his lips, every drag and dip of his fingers inside my walls until I can't contain the sounds emerging from me.
Alessandro quickly moves his mouth off me and pulls himself on top of me. His fingers are still stroking me. I need to return the favor. The heaviness and warmth of his cock against the palm of my hand eases my lustful angst.
My sweet center thinks she's going to feel this, but I'll make sure it doesn't go beyond this mutual handful of pleasure. When his mouth crashes onto mine, I grip him tighter, eliciting a growl, but our passionate kiss continues. He fingers me feverishly as I stroke him faster and faster.
The kiss is the only thing keeping us silent until I come once more, and he holds me still as his climax spills into my hand.
For fuck's sake. If this is what getting each other off feels like, I can only imagine what it's like to actually come together, him inside me, claiming every inch of my body for himself.
We fall onto the bed, both staring up at the ceiling of the bedroom where he grew up. A twinge of embarrassment mixes with the air of satisfying relief.
"Wow," I huff.
"That was intense." His voice seems distant, and he doesn't stay beside me for long.
The bed dips as Alessandro pushes himself up and heads out of the room with a sheet draping around his body. He comes back with a warm cloth and a towel. After cleaning up and laying the towel on the wet spot of evidence that we enjoy one another as husband and wife, we fall asleep in each other's arms.
Sleep is welcome, falling over me as heavily as Alessandro's arm resting across my back. However, the soft murmurs coming from his side of the bed force me to stir. It sounds like I'm dreaming at first until his words come quicker, clearer, louder.
"Don't," he says, and his entire body clenches with his hand gripping the blankets. His words come in spurts. "Stop… I don't know… I can't?—"
The pain radiating through every syllable shakes me awake until I'm sitting up. My entire body feels like it's on pins and needles with fear and confusion. Sweat pours over his body. It would be incredibly sexy with the way water beads down his ripped abs, but the anguish etching onto his face has his hair clinging to his forehead.
"Alessandro." I whisper his name for the second time tonight. There's no seduction in my tone, only worry, as I want him to wake up from whatever nightmare has him grunting through imaginary pain.
"NO! I WON'T! ARGH!" Alessandro howls and shoots up. His beautiful blue eyes are wide, and he's out of breath, like he just finished running a marathon. He looks around frightfully until his eyes land on me. There's confusion, almost as if he's trying to remember who I am or why I'm here.
"Alessandro, it's Evelyn. Il tuo dolce." I'm desperate for him to recall the events of the last thirty-six hours. I have no idea what a man of his reputation does when he's scared out of his wits, let alone to the person beside him.
He pats the top of my hand silently, taking slow, deliberate breaths to bring his heart rate back down to earth.
"Shit, are you okay? You scared me."
"I'm sorry, Evelyn. I'm fine. I'll be fine," he assures me before pushing himself out of bed. It's a short walk to the dresser, where he glances at his phone. I can see the sun peeking through the blackout curtains, and when he motions to open them, I nod.
"What time is it?" I ask, shielding my eyes from the bright morning sun.
"A quarter after six. We should get ready to head out if you don't want to sit in rush hour. If you want to stop by your place to grab anything, we can do that too."
"Let's hang out for a bit, make sure your dad's okay and wait for Lara to get here before we do anything."
The best thing is to ignore the tension between us. The sexual release of last night coupled with his startling, self-induced wake-up call requires too much dissecting at this early hour. We need a good distraction.
"Okay, we have some time. I have a long day today and you have a doctor's appointment."
