Page 25 of Fight Me Little Pearl
I cannot fully understand what he is doing with his tongue, because it appears to force its way inside me and then out with a violent motion, which strikes my clit rhythmically and relentlessly, each time with more force. All I know is my climax is already frothing in my loins, churning and rolling with each rotation of his clever tongue.
A whiff of a rich musky smell rises into the air. I realize with surprise that, that is me, my smell. That ‘a little too virginal’ smell he had alluded to on our first night in Paris.
My eyes drift shut as I bury my fingers into his thick hair and rock my sex into his face. He sucks my clit into his mouth, and I am sure I scream so loud birds nesting in the lemon trees flutter into the sky. Maybe it’s all in my head, but if it isn’t then I for sure do not give a damn about them. All I want is for Valentino to quench this fire inside me before it incinerates me from the inside out.
My legs quake as I wrap them around his shoulders and relentlessly and shamelessly grind my sex against his face, desperate for the pressure of his lips and tongue. Valentino sucks, nibbles, and licks, drawing out my juices and lapping them up like it’s his last meal on earth.
“Yes,” I whisper a moan straining my throat.
Dark excitement bolts through my body when his big hands spread my buttocks. Suddenly, I feel his tongue gently, but mischievously give oral stimulation to my perineum and the wrinkled crater of my ass. Oh my God! He’s going to eat my ass. As the tip of his tongue begins to scrape and try to find entry, I start to squirm.
“Valentino,” I whisper.
He laughs. A shadowy mocking sound. “My little virgin pearl. So much to learn.”
But he retracts his tongue and sweeps up to ferociously suck my clit. It feels as if my sex is melting into his mouth. My legs move of their own accord and wrap tightly around his head, bringing us closer in a violent grip of tongue and cunny.
My climax is violent and primal, the scream erupting from the core of my sex and spewing over his face and shoulder, drenching him. Masturbation has never given me this. Never. Raw feral pleasure makes me cry out again and again as the orgasm rips through me. As my senses come back, I unclasp his head from the tight grip of my legs and proudly display my satisfied sex, reddened, dripping and engorged. He must see what he has done to me. This man whose face has just marked me forever with my first climax from a blowjob.
But the orgasm fades away completely, and a part of me starts hating that I have reacted this way to him. I tell myself I couldn’t help it. No one could. Not in the face of that level of skill and technique.
But I hate it even more when I see how unaffected he is as he presses practiced, soft, feathery kisses to the insides of my thighs, then effortlessly hauls himself out of the pool. Without another word or even a backward glance, he strides purposefully away from me.
I look at the wet footprints he has left on the tiles with confusion.
I should be angry with myself. I am supposed to be in love with Thomas. I am supposed to keep my body preserved for him. But here I am, a dazed, shivering mess by the pool still barely coherent from what a man I claim to detest has just done to me. My clit still throbs from what Valentino’s tongue has done to it, and my body still stirs with a strange dissatisfaction. He didn’t finish the job. He didn’t fill me with his hard cock.
An image of Thomas and I sitting at the college cafeteria laughing comes into my mind.
Yes, I have betrayed him, but he came to my wedding and watched me marry another man. He cannot expect me not to share a bed with my husband. I tell myself what Thomas and I have is far more than just animal lust. Our relationship is based on mutual respect and admiration. One day, I will be free again and I will marry him then.
For now, I cannot bring myself to regret what has happened or hate Valentino for it. Something tells me that if he returns right now to take me completely, I will not stop him.
Chapter Thirteen
VALENTINO
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xggRxWXdTng
-I won’t back down-
“Fucking hell.”
I step underneath the cold shower, my cock throbbing painfully like there’s a bundle of live wire wrapped around it. I put my hands on the sleek walls and bow my head, struggling to regain my composure and senses. But the ache in my cock won’t let me think. I wrap my fingers around it, pulling and tugging until the ache bursts into pleasure and a tortured groan falls from my lips.
The image of Francesca sprawled on the pool teases my senses again, and the pain rushes back to my cock. My hands won’t do. I need her. Badly. More than I’ve ever needed anyone in my entire fucking life. I should be buried inside her right now. After her orgasm, if I’d plunged into her sex she would not have complained.
As desperately as I want to, I know it isn’t the right time. Tonight, she was ready to taunt me, but that wasn’t enough.Not by a long shot. I want her begging for it. Right now, she's thawing, and that is all that matters. Slowly, I will tame her. I have time. I hit the pressure switch, causing the water to rain harder on me until the droplets are like little knocks on my head and body.
But the vision of Francesca in that fucking bikini will never leave my brain, no matter how hard I try. I don’t even want to try. Hell, I want to go back in time and capture her in that moment when she dropped the towel and stood there like an earth Goddess. I’d hang the life-size frame on every wall of my room to see it whenever and wherever I turned.
Then I’d have to lock my room away so no one else would see because, on my mother’s grave, I would pluck out the eyes of anyone who saw Francesca like that. In that tiny bikini that barely covered anything, she was senseless to have worn it out to swim! If anyone had seen her, she would have been responsible for their deaths.
The angry, jealous thought makes the blood leave my dick, and I lose my erection. I finish my shower quickly and wrap a towel around my hips before returning to my room. I hear noises on the other side of the wall and hurry to it, pressing my ear to the adjoining door. I deliberately put Francesca on the other side to punish myself.
A wall and an adjoining door separate this palatial room. I don’t know if Francesca has figured this out yet, but if I walk through this door, I’ll be in her room. From what I can hear, she had just walked in. It’s been half an hour, at least; I wonder what she had been doing in the pool since I left.
Did she continue swimming?
