Coming Home (Morelli Family 6)

“This is my favorite place in the world,” he informs me.

My heart fills up. He’s not always the most giving man, but I needed an affirmation like that today. The thrill of hearing it boosts my arousal and I struggle to keep still as his fingers move inside me faster.

“Mateo… please…”

He shakes his head. “Not yet.”

“I need—”

“Not yet,” he repeats, eyes narrowing slightly.

My speeding heart sinks but I do my best to obey him as his fingers do their best to tempt me not to. His tender assault on my clit intensifies as he pushes me, tries to sabotage my obedience.

I should just let him. His punishments are delicious.

My best attempts are starting to fall short. His fingers pump in and out of my body, strategically brushing my clit with every withdrawal; the friction is incredible. It’s killing me to hold back my climax, to hold my body still when I want to arch off the couch and let the release sweep over me.

Abruptly, he stops.

I groan as his fingers leave my throat and he sits back.

“Take your dress off.”

I can hardly scoot back fast enough, peeling the soft, white sweater dress off my body and tossing it on the floor. Beneath, a white lace bra matches my panties. Mateo smirks, moving close and grabbing me, tugging my breasts against his mouth.

“Is this new?”

“Yes.” I gasp as his mouth closes over my barely covered flesh.

After tonguing my nipple through the fabric and sucking on my breasts until I’m ready to explode, he pulls back. He reaches behind my back and unclasps my bra, peeling the delicate fabric off me. “I approve,” he informs me, before returning to my now bare breasts to shower the other with the same attention. Before his mouth makes contact, he tells me, “I like you in white.”

It makes my heart contract. It’s not his fault, but with all that’s happened today, white has me thinking bridal. Of the wedding I’ll never get and the babies I’ll never have.

His mouth is doing good work though, so those miserable thoughts fade as quickly as they emerged. Now he pushes me back on the couch again, and his sensual lips make their way down my core. He tenderly kisses my abdomen and my mind sinks back into the darkness for a moment. In my fantasies he kisses my tummy with the same love, but it’s because our baby is growing there.

As if he can sense me trying to pull myself out of the sex haze he’s clearly trying to enshroud me in, he meets and holds my gaze as he drags the lacey panties down my smooth legs. My tummy flutters as he flings them on the floor with my dress and bra.

Now his fingers go to his shirt and he starts to unbutton. “Are my shoulders as sexy as Adrian’s?” he teases.

Bastard. He knows I love his playful side.

I bite back a smile, hungrily watching him peel his shirt off. “He is a very detailed tattler.”

“You should come to the gym one morning, really look your fill,” he continues.

Since he’s joking about it, I join in, saucily asking, “Of you, or Adrian?”

He smiles and tosses his shirt on the floor. “Who said you had to choose?”

Before I have a chance to respond, he grabs my thighs and pulls them apart. He loops one arm around my leg as he lowers himself between my legs, resting his splayed hand on my tummy. He reaches for my hand with the other, entwining his fingers with mine. My heart flutters and my tummy muscles contract as he presses his wonderful mouth against my bare pussy, not entering me yet, just nibbling.

I bring my free hand down and thread my fingers through his hair. God, I love this man.

I love his tongue, too. He finally tastes me, licking along the inside of my pussy like he’s afraid he’ll miss a drop of his favorite desert. I’m relieved by the gentle pleasure—sometimes he’s brutal in seeking my pleasure. He finds the right spots quickly, assaults the fuck out of them, and I come so hard I think I might cry. Right now he’s being gentle, taking his time, stroking and tasting me like that’s all he wants out of the experience. Like he has all night.

We don’t, though.

This isn’t my night.

We’re stealing this moment, but I’m feeling ripped off enough that I’ll take it.

Now he zeroes in and focuses on my clit. All of a sudden the blanket of gentleness is ripped out from under me as his quick, skilled strokes take the place of his tender exploration. I tug on his hair intuitively and he buries his face even deeper in my pussy.

“Oh, God, Mateo.” I let go of his hair to grab into the edge of the couch cushion, squeezing it as I arch my back. His mouth stays latched onto my pussy, his tongue working my clit. Throwing my head back, I cry out sharply, rolling my hips up. Bless him, he holds onto me as I squirm against his mouth, so even as I feel like he’s driving me crazy, the building pleasure doesn’t stop.