Her brown eyes move slowly over every lean inch of me, her fingers reaching out and dragging along the chiseled edges of my abdominal muscles.
“Jesus, Salvatore,” she says, shaking her head. At least then she gives me an unapologetically impressed look. Her fingers continue to explore my torso and she tells me, “This is… I need to touch all of this.”
I laugh a little, watching her face as she continues to touch me. “It’s all yours,” I inform her. “Touch whatever you like.”
Flashing me a little grin, she says, “I plan to.”
My smile disappears as she bends down, brushing her lips against my stomach. Now her tongue darts out, tracing every edge her finger did just a moment ago. She moves lower, leaving little kisses again as she dips below my navel. Her lips travel down the firm plane, sending my mind dangerous places. Just the mental image of those lips finally closing around my cock is killing me, and she’s getting awfully close.
Francesca drops to her knees.
“Oh, fuck,” I murmur, tilting my head back so I can’t look. I can’t do it though, and a split second later I’m looking down at her again. Her brown eyes meet mine as her hand closes around my cock, tugging and teasing me.
“Do you want me to take you in my mouth?” she asks, her eyes glimmering with mischief.
“More than anything,” I tell her honestly.
Her tongue darts out, trailing just along the tip.
I suck in a breath through my teeth, not taking my eyes off her.
Now her tongue trails along the length of my shaft before she finally closes her lips around the head, taking me into her mouth and sucking long and deep.
“Jesus Christ,” I grind out, reaching down and fisting my hand in her hair. I don’t want to get rough, but goddamn, this is exquisite torture. She picks up enthusiasm, working me with her hand as her mouth works me up and down. I didn’t expect her to be any good at this, given her limited experience, but holy shit, her mouth is magical. With every bob of her head she takes me deeper. I might die from the pleasure, but man, what a way to go.
I let go of her hair, reaching down to give her shoulder a squeeze. With my cock still in her mouth, still moving her lips over me, she looks up at me with those big brown eyes. I’m going to explode if she keeps looking up at me like that while she sucks my cock, and that’s not how I want this to end. I want to be inside her more than I want to wake up tomorrow.
Waking up tomorrow with her naked body curled up against me? Now that is a little slice of heaven. That is what I want more than anything.
She sits back on her legs, glancing up at me. “You don’t want me to…?”
Indicating the dress she’s still wearing, I suggest, “Why don’t we get you as naked as I am before we continue?”
“Oh.” She flushes prettily and stands, turning her back to me and pulling her hair over her shoulder so I can get the zipper. For all her boldness, I still pick up a vibe from her like she’s uncomfortable. Once I get the dress undone but not all the way off, I let my hands roam across the soft skin of her back. I move them up over her shoulders, pausing to knead muscles. Her head lolls to the side, a faint moan of pleasure escaping her, so I keep doing it. While I rub her back, my eyes take in every new inch of bare skin. I want to kiss every single centimeter of this woman. Experimentally, to see what she’ll do, I dip my head to drop a kiss between her shoulder blades, still rubbing her shoulders. I drop another kiss a little lower, then scatter a few off to the left. I move to the right, showering the same attention on that side, then I straighten and lean forward, pressing my bare chest against her bare back. Peace rolls over me when she leans back into me, right where she belongs.
I stop kneading her muscles, letting my hands drag down her arms as I lean in and brush my lips along the curve of her neck.
“How are you feeling?” I murmur.
She turns her head to glance back at me, smiling faintly. “Fine. Should I not be feeling fine?”
“I’m still kinda on the fence about this drunken sex thing,” I admit.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never had sex drunk before,” she teases.
Of course I have, but this is nothing like that. “I don’t want you to do something you might regret tomorrow.”
“We probably won’t have a lot of other opportunities to spend the night together,” she tells me. “I’d rather spend the night together after the first time, wouldn’t you?”