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Heat was building inside Skye. This was no rushed pretense of a massage to get to the sex part. It was elongated, incredible foreplay all on its own.
“Leandro,” she groaned, as he rubbed her cheeks with his thumbs. “Please.”
His hands stilled, then moved to her hips. “Turn over, Skye,” he commanded, and he lifted himself up just enough so she could roll onto her back. Looking up at him was like being blinded by the power of the sun. She hadn’t forgotten how beautiful he was but, in this moment, he looked even more so.
Her cheeks were flush from the way he’d already made her feel. She wasn’t even sure she could take much more of this…but then he turned those skillful fingers to her breasts, kneading her with just the right pressure to make her whole body sing.
His arousal was between her legs now, at her sex, and he moved his hips a little, pressing harder there, then softer, stimulating what it would be like when they came together. And oh, how she wanted that. The air in the room was cool, but that didn’t matter: her whole body was burning up.
“You’re so—this feels—,” she couldn’t finish the sentence. His cock was hitting her most sensitive nerve endings and the pleasure from that combined with the feeling of his hands on her breasts was tipping her towards a crescendo already. “Leandro,” she called out into the room as white hot pleasure exploded inside of her. “Oh, Leandro!”
He spoke in Italian, low and soft, then brought his mouth down to kiss her, drinking in her cries, her passion, her need and enthusiasm, removing his shorts at the same time, so now when his arousal connected with her body, it was just him and her and everything she wanted.
She was just about to cry out, to beg him to take her, when she remembered protection. But no sooner had the thought sliced through her than he pulled away, as if their minds were completely in sync, and reached for the bedside table. He removed a row of condoms, tore one open with his teeth and unfurled it over his—holy guacamole. He was huge.
Huge.
She stared at him, her heart in her throat, her whole body torn between excitement and concern. Because how could she possibly accommodate that?
But then he was kissing her again, and his kisses made everything feel so organic and natural, and made worrying seem totally irrelevant, so she wrapped her legs around his waist and drew him towards her, needing, more than anything, to feel him fill her.
He pressed his tip to her sex, but stayed just there, and said, “I’m going to go slowly, okay? You tell me if it hurts.”
So, he knew he was big. He’d obviously heard it before.
She nodded. “Uh huh.”
Of course she’d tell him if it hurt. But it wouldn’t. Somehow, she just knew that being with Leandro would feel as sublime as everything else they’d shared to this point.
Just like he’d promised, he entered her slowly, his breath held, his eyes on her face as he eased himself into her and Skye’s muscles tightened around him.
She moaned with ecstasy, and he kept going, until she felt so full, so stimulated in every cell, that she almost couldn’t breathe.
“Okay?” He asked, voice deep.
She nodded, groaned again. “Better than okay. You’re incredible.”
The look on his face melted her bones.
And then, he started to move, pulling out of her just as gently as he’d entered, thrusting slowly at first, to give her a chance to get used to him, and then faster, like she needed, fast, and huge, and so rock hard. She thrashed her head from one side to the other, her whole body exploding, everything changing shape in the world, so there was only this. Her and him, immense pleasure.
“God, Leandro,” she cried, as another orgasm built, and she felt herself tipping over the edge of an enormous chasm. “Please don’t stop.”
“I have no intention of it,” he said between breaths. He kissed her though, his tongue echoing his movements, and his hands returned to her breasts, feeling them in his palms almost as if he couldn’t believe they were natural.
“You are so beautiful,” he groaned against her lips. And she didn’t even mind hearing him say that, because it wasn’t just words from Leandro. He made her feel beautiful. He seemed to be worshipping her and she liked it.
The next time pleasure built, wave upon wave upon wave, Skye dug her fingernails into his shoulders, sweat beading her brow, and she felt him pulse inside of her, buried as deep as he could go, and he cried out just a second after she’d tumbled off the edge of the earth, so his own pleasure wracked his body as hers was being sobbed into the room. Their voices mingled, their bodies were entwined, everything about them was in lockstep.
He collapsed back onto the bed, his absence an immediate regret for Skye, because his possession of her had been so complete and absolute.
Euphoria and pleasure flooded her body.
He’d made her feel like the sexiest, most beautiful woman on earth. He’d made her feel confident and empowered. But he’d also given her the gift of being her first lover since Jay. Of showing her that there was life after her awful, controlling, manipulative ex.
“Thank you,” she said with sincerity, because this was about so much more than two people having sex. He’d helped her gain some of her freedom back. He’d never know it, but that didn’t matter. Skye was aware of what he’d done for her; she’d always remember him for that.
“The thanks are unnecessary,” he responded. “And mutual.”
