Page 101 of My Italian Love Affair

Not when the only thing in my head is Daphne.

The taste of her lips, of her tongue, of hercunt.

The way her breath hitched when I teased her, when she tasted herself on me.

The way she melted when I finally stopped playing and gave her what she needed.

The way her eyes fluttered shut.

The way her back arched.

The way shewhispered my fucking name.

My jaw tightens, my breathing deepens, and I shove a hand through my hair, cursing under my breath.

But I don’t even try to stop myself when my fingers slip lower, brushing against the growing heat between my legs.

Fuck. I’m already hard.

Stillhard, even.

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to will away the frustration burning through me, but it only makes the memories sharper. More vivid.

Her thighs stretched open, her legs spread out around my head as I knelt before her. The feel of her tight, soaking wet cunt clenching around me as I pushed into her. The way her head tipped back, her lips parting with a broken moan as she came apart under my touch.

I curse lowly as I wrap a firm hand around my cock, my grip tight as I stroke from base to tip.

The first sharp jolt of pleasure has my hips jerking slightly, my mind lost in the feel of her - thememoryof her - as I pump my fist in slow, deliberate strokes.

I can see it so clearly in my mind - the way she looked at me like she wanted to hate me, but wanted me even more.

Like she was fighting herself the whole time, even as her body begged me not to stop.

I imagine what she’d look like now. Here, on my bed.

On her knees between my legs, that red hair spilling over her shoulders as she wrapped those perfect lips around my cock.

I grunt, my pace quickening.

My abs clench, my legs tense, but I can’t stop.

Not when my mind is full of her - her skin, her scent, the sounds she made when I had her pinned against that marble counter, begging me without even using words.

It doesn’t take long.

I barely last another minute before my breath catches, my jaw locking and my grip tightening as my hips stutter. I cum hard, my release spilling over my stomach as a low, guttural groan rumbles from my chest.

The pleasure is sharp and consuming -

But fleeting.

I barely have time to catch my breath before frustration takes over again.

I run a hand over my face, my body still thrumming with residual heat, my pulse still hammering.

It’s not enough.

I had her. I took what I wanted.

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