Page 72 of Dominance

With a husky grunt, I shove him back onto the bed, climbing on top of him, straddling him.

Every time I feel him under me, pressing into me, I’ve wondered, fantasized about it…

I slowly start to grind on top, feeling him swell to his full, enormous prowess. Adriano inhales me, dragging his nose, his lips, his chin, along my chest as I let my head fall back.

His kisses start feather soft, toying with me, tasting me. And then they get deeper, sending chills along my skin, pebbling every surface, and scintillating in sparks up and down my spine.

My shoulder blades pull together, thrusting my chest out towards him as he works his way lower along my collarbone, into the nape of my neck, and then lower still. One of his hands thrusts up, cupping my breasts through my dress, pulling it down again, sampling one nipple, then the other. The flimsy fabric gathers around my middle, exposing me to him setting a fire in his eyes as he looks upon me.

The chill in the bedroom adds to the sensations, to the overwhelming tingles as he sets to devouring my breasts, aching, firming to his touch. Taking each one into his mouth, Adri circles, sucks, squeezes.

Until I’m writhing on his lap, rocking back and forth over his muscular frame.

“Gloria…” he says my name like a prayer, like a song.

“Be with me…” I breathe into his ear, silencing any doubts that might surface in his mind.

Unbuttoning his shirt, I tug it back, slipping it over his arms and off into the darkness. Then we’re up, my dress falling to the floor, his belt buckle snapping, unzipping, kicking his pants aside.

The tumult of the threat outside mixes with our growing desire, the urgency of our love building into a frenzy, passionate and wild. Fuel for our fire.

Not to mention the two of us have been avoiding this for so long.

Pent-up. Stressed out.

And now it’s finally here.

I cannot get enough of his muscular arms, the rock-hard shoulders, his firm sides, rippling under my fingertips. Clutching those pillars, his corded, shredded arms, I let him surround me again, his hand tracing the line of my spine down, finding the dimples I know he’ll love along my lower back. His soft growl tells me I’m right.

Laying me back onto the bed with absolute care, but with a hint of abandon, a slight roughness that belies his desire, Adriano gazes at me, my naked form, and I’m unchained. Set free.

Nothing in the world could be hotter than the way he looks at me.

Until he cups his hands under my ass, following the line of lace around, toying with my thong. There’s something about the way his fingers tease into the crook between my thighs and ass, each hand dragging out from the center along the crease.

The sensation rolls through me like a wave, doubling my arousal, igniting my core.

No one has ever touched me there before, like that.

Butterflies erupt in my stomach, fluttering up through my chest. Right before he drags my underwear down, kissing a path all the way down my tummy. The torture persists as he scrapes fingertips and lips down each leg, inside my thigh, that delicate spot behind my knee, all the way to my ankle.

“You’re killing me…” I whisper, a soft laugh reaching my lips as I luxuriate on the sheets, sprawled out for him, spread open for him. “Adriano. Make love to me…”

And with that permission, I sense the snap of all of his self-control, completely and utterly giving in to the want, the desire, theneed. He lingers over me raised up on his knees, my legs hooked over his hands.

Every muscle of his chest and abs are etched in moonlit shadows above me, sculpted in glorious relief of blue silver.

And lower, I can see how hard he is, straining against his boxer briefs. The black fabric is doing very little to conceal the enormous size of him. Rising up, I stroke one hand up, cupping, then palming him along the bottom of his shaft. I savor the size of him, anticipating every inch of that magnificent shaft sliding into me.

I know this won’t suffice.

I need him as naked as I am.

He steps back off the bed, slipping his underwear down, kicking them to the side.

Then he presses one hand right at the top of my abdomen, forcing me back down.

As I breathe deeply, my chest heaving, and he just looks at me. His eyes taking in every curve of my figure.

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