Bella Donna

each one between gentle fingers, savoring the way they puckered and hardened at his touch. Then he tugged, making her moan low in her throat and press harder against him. A tremor rippled though him as her response to his touch stoked the fire in his belly.

“I shouldn’t be doing this,” she whispered, but she made no move to break away.

He kissed her neck again, but that wasn’t nearly enough. He wanted to taste all of her. Less than a breath later he turned her toward him, bringing her body flush against his. He pressed his lips to hers, deepening the kiss as she clung to him, the softness of her mouth an irresistible promise of the rest of her body that he ached to possess. Thrusting his tongue into her, he took her breath, still stroking and plucking at her breasts with his fingers, tugging gently to make her arch her back and utter a tiny cry. His teeth found her earlobe and nipped at it as he continued to tease her nipples and thrust his cock harder against her.

He wanted her naked, wanted her smooth, silky skin under his fingers, her slender length fitted against him. He lifted the hem of her tunic and to his delight she raised up to help him pull it over her head. In the faint light her breasts shone with a pearly sheen, the nipples dark and tempting as ripe fruit. He grasped her waist, holding her firm, took one breast between his lips and sucked, drawing it deep into his mouth. She gave a cry and arched her back again, making him pull harder.

His touch grew stronger as she began to writhe, and he tweaked the pebbly tips one after the other, tugging, biting, letting go, maintaining the rhythm of thrust and pull until she moaned helpless in his arms.

Her hands moved on his arms and shoulders until she found the opening where his shirt gaped wide and pressed her palms flat against his chest, stroking around his ribs, touching his nipples. The fire in his belly shot upward and he groaned in his throat.

He forced her down again and kissed her cool flesh once more, teasing each nipple with the tip of his tongue, feeling her movements grow wilder as her limbs trembled beneath him. His hands were hot and hard against her bare skin, making her quiver, skimming her rib cage, inching upward. He pressed his mouth against hers, thrusting his tongue deep into her, still stroking and nipping at her breasts.

She didn’t stop him from pulling impatiently at the drawstring of her skirt and, when it was loosened, dragging it from her, exposing her legs and the dark patch at the meeting of her thighs. He feasted his eyes on the length of her and drew his fingertips down from the peak of one breast, over her ribs, to hover over the curls hiding the treasure of her cunt.

“You like that?” she whispered.

“More than I can say.” His voice was tight in his throat.

Her eyes glittered in the starlight as she lay still under his gaze, the rise and fall of her chest matching the pounding of her heart he had felt moments before. She watched him unfasten his trousers and kick them aside, drawing in her breath when his cock sprang free. He knelt over her and she stretched out her hand to touch him.

He was going to explode if he couldn’t do it now. She’d driven him mad with this constant craving since he’d first laid eyes on her. He’d lose what remained of his mind if he couldn’t join with her now

He had to have her.

Possess her.

Love her.

Love?

“Dio!” He closed his eyes as he allowed her to hold him in her curved fingers for just a moment. She lifted her shoulders so her lips met the tip of his quivering cock and explored the cleft with her probing tongue. He had thought his balls were as hard and tight as they could possibly be, but they swelled even more as she teased him with her wicked tongue.

He pressed her down again, making her release him and dropped kisses on the curve of her breasts, laving the sensitive peaks, coaxing her to toss and moan. He loved torturing her, postponing the release they both craved. She trembled at every touch and reached for him again. Moving away from her grasping hands, he slid lower, tickling her navel with his tongue. He slipped his hands under her, cradling the cheeks of her ass, tilting her hips.

She clawed at the ground, then buried her fingers in his hair, pulling his mouth against her. He lifted his face.

“Can you feel it between your legs?” he murmured in her ear.

She squirmed under him, held fast by his body. “You know I can.” The sound of her voice was barley audible over the rustle of the leaves on the bushes around them.

“Tell me what you want.”

“You know what I want.” She groaned. “I want you to fill me.”

“All in good time, bella donna, my lovely lady. Open for me.”

Even had she wished to, Emma was powerless to refuse him.

He squeezed the soft flesh of her backside as she let her legs fall apart. Magnifico. He stroked her inner thighs, murmuring to her, reveling in the power he had to give her pleasure. He lost all thought of what had happened, what was to happen and lived only for the feel of her, for her cries of delight.

He moved lower to rain tiny kisses on her flat stomach, knowing from her groans and the lifting of her hips what it was doing to her. Then he moved lower still, burying his face in the curls between her legs. He heard the sharp intake of her breath as he tongued the soft flesh. She grasped his head between her palms and held him close to her.

“More,” she begged.

He lifted his mouth from nuzzling her.

“How wet are you?”

“Find out. Put your hand there.”

His fingers found the warm wetness between her legs and she whispered, “Yes,” as he explored her delicate folds. He thrust one finger inside her, then two. His thumb massaged the sensitive bud of her clitoris, making her cry out again.

“Please,” she begged.

At last he rose above her and guided his cock toward the softness between her legs, anticipating the tightness of her sheath as he slid inside. The tip of his penis nudged the opening to her cunt and with a long, low groan he filled her at last.

With a sense of fulfillment Emma took him into her body, allowing him to seek her lips, joining their bodies in every possible way. She clutched his hips, pressing him as far inside her as his tongue was deep in her mouth, shuddering and sighing as his engorged cock stretched her and thrust harder. He felt so good inside her, so hard, so right.

The calluses on his palms continued to rub her sensitive areolas, sending shards of sweet agony down into her abdomen, setting her vulva on fire. The ache, relieved for a moment by the feel of him inside her, began to grow again as he drove against her swollen clit. The surge between her legs swelled and churned its way up through her belly until her whole body convulsed, and in desperation she clung to him as hard as she had clung to the piece of driftwood in the sea barely two days before. His own climax broke a mere fraction of time after hers, and she heard his triumphant shout as the hot spurt of his semen caressed the mouth of her womb.

Her body trembled and quivered still after the waves of the storm had washed through her. He held her until she sagged in his arms.

When she stilled, he slid from her and pulled the blanket over them both. He cradled her and kissed her gently, brushing back wisps of her hair with one hand.

After a moment he reached into the pile of clothing for the leather gourd that had hung from a clasp at his waist and undid the top. “Here,” he said, holding it to her lips. “Drink.”

In the gray light of predawn, she let the water run into her open mouth and over her lips. It fell in a gentle cascade down her dry throat. Some drops dribbled down her chin, and fell on the valley above her breasts. He bent his head to catch them with his tongue.

With her fingertips she touched a tiny cut on his lower lip where her teeth had pressed into him, drawing blood. He propped himself on one elbow and looked at her.

“I would like to be naked with you forever,” he said. “But we must dress, bella donna.”