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Oh my god, how do they manage to make simple touches feel so good?
“Mmm,” Nico says, withdrawing his hand. He moves to my feet and carefully unbuckles the straps on my shoes.
Enzo continues his delicious torment and I moan again.
“I love it when she makes that sound. Don’t stop.” Nico commands.
Enzo chuckles. “Always so eager,” he says.
I love the way his voice sounds, slow and deep.
“It feels so good,” I say.
Nico’s fingers make quick work of my shoes, undoing the clasp and tossing my heels to the side of the limo.
I’m too tired to tell him to be careful with the shoes. They’re Chanel and probably the most expensive shoes I’ve ever worn.
I feel too good to pull away and grab the shoes myself.
“Come on, Angel, make that noise again,” he says, his thumbs taking turns massaging my feet.
I give him what he wants. I can’t help it, moaning over and over again. Their touch feels too good.
“Angel,” he murmurs approvingly as his hand slips higher. He pushes apart my knees as he drops to his. Enzo holds me still, his arms wrapping around my waist.
Nico stares up at me, his dark eyes glistening with that smoldering desire. He takes a knife out of his pocket and flips open the blade.
My pulse races. “What are you doing?” I ask, shakily.
Nico smiles and slides the cold metal blade across my thigh, hooking it under my lacy underwear.
“Opening my present,” he growls, slicing through the delicate lace. The remains of my panties fall away, leaving me completely exposed to him. He must like what he sees because he licks his lips before looking up at me.
“Perfect,” he says, his voice breathy. He licks his lips again, placing his hands on my knees as he positions himself before me. His fingers dig into me as he spreads apart my thighs. “So, fucking perfect.”
“Oh my god, please,” I say, with a shaky moan.
I feel my chest rise and fall with effort, letting my head fall back slightly as the anticipation of pleasure sends my pulse racing.
“Can I taste you, Angel?” Nico asks, his face so close to where I’m desperate for him to touch.
I look down at him, on his knees before me, desperate need washing over his features as he waits for my answer.
“Let me taste you,” he says, commanding. There’s something behind his words. I can see it, on his face, the way that he needs this. He craves me too.
He kisses the inside of one thigh, and then the other.
“Angel.” He growls, growing impatient. He bites my skin, tugging gently. “This is the last time I’ll ask.” He nibbles my skin again. “Let me taste you.”
“Oh,” I groan.
Let me taste you. I repeat his words in my mind, the sound nearly enough to make me come.
Fuck me.
“P-please,” I beg. “Please.”
Enzo’s hand strokes my skin while Nico’s tongue laps at my clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through me.
