by Mj Fields
I feel her hips begin to pump, showing me she wants more. I suck greedily because I want more; need more of her juice in my mouth. She is falling apart and I am losing myself in her. I grab her leg, throwing it over my shoulder, and then do the same with the other. I am dragging her closer, burying my face, my tongue, my nose, against her as I suck on her clit.
Her hips aren’t rising anymore, they’re grinding into me. She is fucking my face with her pussy. I am fucking her pussy with my tongue.
She cries out louder this time, and her pussy is even slicker as it weeps.
She yells out my name again. I fucking can’t take anymore. I reach down and grab a condom out of my pocket, as I am still tonguing her sweet sexy spot. She is coming down from the ultimate high, and I am ready to join her.
I kiss her stomach and then lick each breast as I ascend. I motion for her to scoot up as I sit on the bed, rolling on a condom.
When I turn around, I see her lazily laying on the bed, fully nude and stunning, staring at the ceiling as she twirls her hair in one hand. I stand up, walk to the side of the bed and climb in. I lay on my side so that I can touch her body.
She turns to face me. This time, she is the one begging for my lips, so I give them to her. In this kiss I feel a thank you, a newfound favorite sexual act, and adoration.
I reach between us and slowly start rubbing her pussy.
“Mmm.” She closes her eyes, bites her lip, and smiles into the darkness. “Thank you,” she whispers.
She reaches between us, and her little hand takes my cock. I feel a rumble in my chest that makes its way to my throat as she strokes me up and down.
“I want to pleasure you, too,” she whispers.
I can’t let her. Not until we have a deeper connection. “Patience.” I push her on her back and her hand is still holding me. I feel her thumb rub across my piercing and her once even strokes falter.
“It’s pierced. Prince Albert,” I explain, as I shove my nose into her neck.
“Will it hurt?” she asks, almost inaudibly.
“Won’t be noticeable with the condom--,” I hiss, as I feel her rub me against her opening. I maneuver between her legs and push into her just a little. I already feel her responsive pussy clench and she moans.
I cup her breast and bow my head to suck it, as I push in further. She spreads even wider for me and I move further in. She’s wiggling and rotating her hips, trying her best to accommodate me. I push in further.
“Oh, God,” she whimpers.
I pull back and push in, pull back then in. I haven’t made it all the way. Her face is less tense and she starts panting. She is gonna come again. I feel her first ripple and I take the opportunity to thrust inside her.
She cries out and I still. I didn’t dare to move. I didn’t want to come yet, not when I am inside this enigmatic pussy. She arches her back so I bend, taking her nipple between my teeth and she whimpers, I suck hard and her hips begin grinding. She is stretching and rubbing herself all over me.
“Laney, slow down, or I am going to come.”
“Oh, please,” she purrs.
“Fuck it.” I place my hands on each side of her head and raise myself above her.
I plunge in and out of her as I tell her, “We are not done after this—FUCK!”
I slam in again. “I want it wet and loud, no holding back next time. I am going to eat your pussy, whenever I want.”
“Yes,” she cries.
“Nothing is off limits with you and me.” I crash in again. “I’m gonna make you come five more times before day breaks.”
“Dom, oh yes, Dominic!”
My balls are on fire, and I feel it moving down my shaft. The heat is spreading like wildfire. When I can’t take it anymore I come. “Laney!”
As soon as I am completely empty, I roll to my back taking her with me.
We are skin to skin. ”Amazing.”
“Mind-blowing.”
“Ten minutes and we do it again.”
She smiles, leans down, and kisses my lips.
It always worries me that a man only goes down on a girl so she will reciprocate. He hasn’t even alluded to the fact that he expects it. I also worry about taste. Until now, I have never tasted myself. It isn’t what I expected. I am sure it has a lot to do with his taste and mine combined that makes it tolerable. Enjoyable even.
I am still laying on him; he is still inside me, neither of us move, or say anything. He kisses me and rubs wherever he wants to. He makes me feel beautiful, bellissima. I smile at how that word sounds rolling off his tongue. Then, I think about his tongue and wonder how the hell a tongue has so much power.
“Bellissima, Laney. Tell me what you’re thinking. I need to know.”
I nuzzle into his neck, because I can’t look at him for too long. I’m afraid he will be able to see something in me that is not bellissima. I’m afraid he will see the truth.
“You’re comfortable to lay on. Even though every inch of your body is ripped, you still feel comfortable.”
“Ripped, huh?”
“Bellissima,” I whisper.
“You are bellissima, and your body isn’t comfortable, at all.” I nod and start to roll off of him. “No stay.”
“If I’m uncomfortable--”
He chuckles and pulls me tighter to his body then kisses my hair. “Not uncomfortable in that way. Let’s just say you make what’s soft, hard again.”
He thrusts upward, and I whimper as he nudges my still sensitive pussy.
“I need to go get rid of the condom, and then, I am going to have you again.” He lifts my chin and looks into my eyes, “Say, yes.”
“Yes,” I whisper.
When he leaves the room I cover my face and kick my feet, giddy. I want to call Mel, Paige, Nikki—anybody. Bellissima, I say the word aloud, repeatedly, and roll to my stomach. I laugh into the pillow and say it again, and again.
I jump when I feel him pull the sheet off of me and nip at my butt. I try pulling it back over me, “Say it, again. Say it until you believe what I know is true. Laney, you truly are Bellissima, don’t hide from me.”
Embarrassed, I force myself to laugh as he kisses up my spine and then to my neck. “I like the way it sounds, the way you say it. I think I need to take a Spanish class.” I giggle.
“Why is that?” he whispers, as he is now licking behind my ear.
“So, I can figure out everything you’ve said to me, that’s why.”
His full weight falls on me; he groans, rolls off, covers his face in a pillow, and begins to grumble more of the words I don’t understand.
“Did I say something wrong?” He groans loudly, and I pull the pillow away from his face. “What?”
“I adore your body, whisper sentiments of desire and need, give you several orgasms, and you say something like this to me?”
“Like what?” I can’t tell if he’s upset or amused, but his eyes don’t lose their sparkle, so I assume amused.
“How do you not recognize the language of love?”
“French? No, I took French in grade school.”
He springs up on his knees and pins me to the bed, “French is not the language of love, Laney.”
“Well, I said Span--”
He lets go, kisses my stomach then shoves his tongue in my belly button, causing me to laugh out loud. He nips at my waist and goes back to my belly button. I try pushing him off me, but he’s a beast, and you truly can’t fight a beast when you are laughing like a ten-year-old schoolgirl.
“Pee!” I yell and laugh at the same time, “I have to pee!”
“I will not allow it.” He does the tongue in belly button thing again, and I am dying.
“STOP! I’m gonna pee.”
He looks up at me through his sexy long dark lashes. His eyes are dancing as his eyebrow creeps up mischievously. “What language is the language of love?”
“Is this a test?”
He nods slowly rocking his chin back and forth rubbing hi
s sexy stubble against my skin.
“Give me a hint?”
“I gave you nearly ten inches and you ask for more?”
I suck in my cheeks, in an effort to not laugh, because there is, like he said, nothing funny about ten inches. Well, maybe the humor is in the fact that it actually fit inside me, when I couldn’t even close my hand around his girth.
His tongue is now circling my belly button, taunting and teasing me. It’s huge, too. Dear God—why do I start every inward thought about him with dear God? The tip is at the opening, I bite my lip. I watch him, as he’s watching me watching him.
“Sei molto responsive quando ti tocco. You are very sensitive to my touch.”
“I love how it sounds when you speak to me. I know that I am going to pee myself, if you so much as touch me, and I know your efforts to make me feel,” my face heats up with embarrassment before I say the word, “Bellissima. I know you must understand that if I do pee, I will feel far from bellissima.”
He licks a circle around my belly button and groans. “My effort isn’t to make you FEEL bellissima, you are bellissima.”
His eyes narrow and he looks at me playfully. “Do you know how badly I want to make you pee? See if that’s another thing my tongue can make your sexy little body do?”
“Don’t you dare,” I grab his face and his eyes become softer. I rub my thumb across his stubble as he pushes into my touch and groans.
“You’ll come right back to bed?”
“Yes.”
He nods and stands up off the bed. I am immediately chilled from the loss of body heat. I hurry to the bathroom and shut the door, unsure if he is truly that interested in what my body does. I make sure it’s shut and sprint to the toilet just in time.
“Oh, God,” I groan, as I sit on the toilet.
While I wash my hands, I look in the mirror; my mascara is smudged, my face is blotchy. I lift my arm and sniff, I smell awful.
I spot a bathrobe hanging on the door and grab the toiletries off of the counter. I turn on the shower and jump in. I pour the soap in my hand and immediately start scrubbing my face and the important parts. Then, quickly lather my hair while the water washes away the fruity smelling soap. I turn in time to see the Adonis walking in. I glance down and see his erection in its full glory. I quickly look up, embarrassed that I had stared so long. He grabs me and pulls me firmly against him.
“Bathroom and then bed. This wasn’t agreed upon.”
“I look like hell, and I’m sure I was starting to smell--”
“Bullshit.” He runs his hand up and down my spine and I see his jaw twitch.
I swallow hard and smile up at him.
“Where did you come from?”
“You mean where was I raised?”
“No.”
“I don’t know how to answer that question, then.”
“I don’t think you could if you tried.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I.”
His hand grabs the back of my neck and he pulls my head to his chest. My ear is against his heart; it was beating wildly as his chest rises and falls at nearly the same speed. I feel his lips on my head and they stay there.
I start to shiver and his grasp tightens. He holds me tight and sways ever so slightly.
“Italian.”
He huffs; I feel his smile against my cheek, and then his lips. He kisses me harder and then lets go. He lifts my chin and kisses my lips before he walks out of the shower.
I turn off the water and walk out as he stands holding a robe. “This is just for a minute or two, while you get warm.”
He is gloriously naked, holding the robe out for me. I watch in the mirror as he takes a towel off the rack and starts drying my hair. “Red is not your natural color?”
I smile and shake my head ‘no.’ It was odd that he would notice.
“I like it.” He kisses my head. “Okay, now back in bed.”
I walk out and start to climb in. His hand splays across my belly from behind stopping me, “This belongs on the floor I think.”
I let him pull the robe off of me. As I climb in, he follows.
“Was I right?” I ask, as he pulls me against him. “Are you from Italy?”
“Yes.” He pushes my damp hair away from my face.
“So, are you going back...soon?”
“At some point, yes.”
I nod and keep looking into his eyes. God, the way he looks at me makes my heart beat faster, makes me feel like he could see something in me. Does he see what I really am?
“I’m from Georgia.”
“And you’ll be working close by?”
“The city. I’m visiting a friend before I start my new job. What brings you here?”
“Work, as well.”
“What do you do?” There is so much more I want to ask him. His full name, is he married? I mean, I look at his ring finger and there isn’t a ring. But the way he treats me. The way he wants to pleasure me, before taking pleasure himself; makes me feel—special. Not like a single man my age would, and that makes me nervous.
“I work for my family’s company.”
“Oh. Do you have siblings?”
“A sister. Valentina.”
Her name makes me smile. “I like her name.”
“I do, as well. Do you have siblings?”
“Not anymore. But please don’t ask…”
“Of course I’m going to ask.”
“I don’t like to talk about it. It was a long time ago and--”
“My parents passed when I was thirteen.” He says it matter of fact.
“I’m sorry.”
“Me, too. Your turn.”
“I was ten when she died.”
“Sister?”
“Yep.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me, too.” It has been so long since I have spoken of her.
“Plane crash,” he says, at the same time as I say, “Bacterial Sepsis.”
We both smile and then laugh.
“Thank God we’re alone,” I giggle. “No one else would find it alright to laugh about loss.”
“We’ve grieved enough, haven’t we? It’s just you and I, they can all go to hell.” I nod and then scrunch my eyes shut. I want to cry, but not because I am terribly sad, but because of what he said. I have grieved and watched what grief destroyed for years. “We’ll be okay.” He pulls me a little closer. God help me again. This man, this beast, this sex god, is not just getting under my skin. Not a flesh wound, but so much deeper and it is ridiculous.
He kisses my cheek and I move, giving him my open mouth. Lush deep licks, lead into rough hands kneading my breasts, leads to me slowly stroking him, leads to hungrier kisses, and leads to him grabbing a condom. I watch as he rolls it down his shaft, which leads to me sitting astride him. I try with everything I have to take his thick hot cock as deep inside of me as his words and his eyes have already penetrated.
After we have come, I yawn and he rubs my back. “Tired?”
“Yes, but…”
“Sleep.”
“I should really go.”
“Stay.” Every time he says that word I feel a calm overtake me.
I fall asleep on him, his cock still inside of me.
Three times I wake to his caress or his kiss. Each time leads to another mind blowing and exhausting orgasm. He is truly a beast, in the most beautiful sense of the word.
When I wake and look at the clock it is almost noon and he isn’t here. I get up and throw the robe on while I look around the suite. There is food on the table, next to it a note with a single white rose.
I pick up the rose and hold it to my nose, as I read the beautifully handwritten note.
Good morning, Ladybug,
I have some business to tend to. I will return as soon as I can. I want you to be here when I get back.
Stay.
Yours truly,
~Dominic~
I throw on my clothes and he
ad down to my car to grab my bag. I want to change and do my hair and make-up. I want him to see what I look like when I haven’t slept in a car to save money, while I drove from Alabama to New Jersey.
The elevator door opens and the concierge stops me.
“Mrs. Segretti, your husband asked that you take this envelope and meet him at the location on the note enclosed. Please apologize to him, on behalf of the hotel, for not having the suite available for this evening. It was an oversight.”
“Do I have time to shower?”
“Of course, Mrs. Segretti, our guests won’t be arriving until four this afternoon. Take all the time you need, and please let your husband know we are not charging him for the late check-out.”
I take the envelope.
After a shower, I dry and straighten my hair. Red is a phase, a statement. One that says I am an individual. I was ready to go back to my natural color. I knew he said he liked it, but I just didn’t need it anymore.
I put on my blue maxi skirt and a white shirt with my white wedge sandals. This way I am five foot eight instead of five six; Dominic won’t have to bend his knees to kiss me.
Kiss me.
I lick my lips and swear my mouth will never forget the taste of his. Fresh and clean, like a fresh glass of water on a hot day with a dash of mint. My mouth is dry and instead of getting upset with myself for feeling like this about him, virtually overnight; I am allowing myself the pleasure of feeling, bellissima.
He understands pain, grief, wanting, and needing. I close my eyes shut and say a prayer while kissing my locket. Inside the locket are two pictures. I am on the left and on the right is Leah, my sister, my twin, the other half of me. I was the lucky one. The one that didn’t get sick, that didn’t die. I know I am lucky to be alive. I truly do, but there have been times in my past that I would have traded places with her in a heartbeat. I watched my parents watch me. I know they saw her; we were identical. I know it hurts them to see me. Hell, it hurts me to look at myself sometimes.
I dyed my hair red right after my father’s infidelities were exposed. My mother did everything she could to keep him. It was a cycle. He cheated, she begged him to stay. The last time it was Heather, a girl my age, one who I despised. One, who the day I found out, told me that I was weak and pathetic, just like my mother. That’s what she said to me. I told her to ‘get the fuck out,’ and she ran to my father telling him I hit her. When he confronted me I told him the truth. He believed her, chose her. He chose a liar over my mother and me.