“You want this, bella?” Marco asks. He does a little motion with his hips, and his member surges in my hands, moving as if it has a mind of its own.
I gasp a little before nodding. “Yes,” I tell him, because I really, really do.
He eases me down onto my back again, leaning over me once more, this time without any clothes between us. When he lays his length along mine I feel his hard rod against my thigh, pressing down, leaving a wet trail where it touches. Marco pulls me into a deep kiss, his tongue searching mine, and then I feel a pressure between my legs, a pressure in all of that wetness. Marco adjusts his stance only slightly, one hand down between us, guiding himself in, and I feel a nudge that seems far too big to fit inside where he is going.
It makes me gasp at first, the sensation of him gliding forward. The pressure is almost unbearable for just a moment until he slowly pushes through and begins to fill me up inside. He keeps inching forwards, just a little bit at a time, waiting for me to adjust and get more comfortable each time so that he doesn’t push me too far. Even as I love his steadiness, his concern, the way he looks after me, another part of me – primal and instinctive – wants him in all the way. Soon I think he must be in all the way, I’m so completely full, but still, he pushes on further, filling me more and more, until I can’t even imagine that such a thing would fit inside of me.
At last, he gives a low groan and I feel the connection between our two bodies slide home, pressed tightly against one another, no room for even a whisper more. He’s all the way inside, so deep it’s like he’s a part of me, and he looks down into my eyes with an open honesty that sears right down to my core, moving me deeply.
He pauses there for a long moment, but even I feel that instinctive call to move, to buck my hips against him, to move them up and down as he slides in and out, at first slowly, letting me feel all of these new sensations deeply and in turn.
Then we begin to move faster, in time, somehow moving to the same rhythm as though there is the same music playing in both of our bodies, so in tune and in sync. I gasp and moan as I feel that same sensation as before, though somehow different this time, all the pressure on the inside of my body and not the outside. Marco begins to thrust deeper and harder, his body crashing into mine, hitting that bundle of nerves, pushing me closer and closer to the edge…
I don’t want to hold on any longer. I want to feel that ecstasy, feel it pouring over every part of my body again. I let go as Marco thrusts in, again and again, feeling him go deeper, somehow impossibly bigger and thicker, and all I know is that I cry out his name as I let go, a wave of bliss wiping out my consciousness in a blur of white as I give in to the pleasure and only pleasure, letting everything else in the world disappear and fall away.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Marco
I lay beside Hannah on the bed, satiated and happy. After watching her come while calling out my name, feeling her grip tightening on me as she convulsed with pleasure, I could hold back no more. I had my own release, filling her with my seed and finally claiming her once and for all.
Now that the afterglow is beginning to fade away, and we both have our breath again, I reach over to roll my fingers across her breast, watching her sensitive nipple stand to attention as I toy with it.
“Are you hungry?” I ask.
Hannah lets out a moan before she can answer. It sounds like she’s already excited again. I’m not surprised after all it was her first time, and she’s young. I knew she would be ready to go again quickly. I’m not too far behind her myself.
“Yes,” Hannah says at last. She glances over at the clock on the bedside table. “It’s past dinner time already.”
I check and see that she’s right. “Takeout?” I ask, planting a kiss on her nipple to finish off my teasing. “I figure it’s easier than getting dressed.”
“Takeout sounds good,” Hannah says. Her voice sounds dreamy, like she’s still in her own bubble of bliss. I want to keep her there for as long as possible. “I don’t care what.”
I grin, deliberately rolling my hand across her body as I reach for the phone on the side table. For Hannah, who loves food so much, not to care about what we eat must mean that she is completely blissed-out. “I’ll order something,” I say, scrolling through the phone for my favorite takeout place. As a businessman, there have been many nights when I’ve worked so late that takeout is really the only option.
I speak quickly down the phone to get the order placed, and I hear the snap in attention in the server’s voice as they recognize my address as one of their most valued customers. I always order well and tip generously, so that in the future I can expect the best service. It’s one of the tricks of my trade, treat others well and they will do their best for you in return.
That done, I put the phone down and return my attention to Hannah, who is still sprawled out, open, and exposed to me. I hear her gasp when my fingers enter her without warning, slow and gentle at first, but when she groans
