Page 79 of Bittersweet

I blow cool air over the sweet spot. Her grip in my hair turns vise-like.

“Fuck me with your mouth, Elio,” she begs, her voice, her words the hottest things I’ve ever heard. Two months is time enough for her to have grown confident when it comes to ordering me around, and I like my dirty goddess. I like her alot.

And so Ido.

I feast like a starving man who hasn’t eaten fordays.

I lick her fast, my tongue dancing with her clit. She moans, her pleasure so loud in the empty house, and I love the way that sounds—I can never get enough. I thrust one finger inside her, then another, another, and she’s so damn wet, so damn ready that it takes everything I have not to stand and just sink my cock into her delicious pussy, fuck her until we’re both sated, sweaty, drunk on our ownsex.

But that wouldn’t be mystyle.

After all, why give her one orgasm when she could havetwo?

Atleast.

At leasttwo.

I lick, and I suck. I fuck her with my mouth and my hand. The taste of her—the taste of my woman is intoxicating. It’s better than any coffee, any liquid that’s ever passed my lips. I drink like I can’t getenough.

Her moans of pleasure send bolts of lust along my spine. I reach up to cup one of her breasts, so full, so perfect in my hand, and when my fingers gently tease one nipple, she grabs the other, an erotic show all for mypleasure.

“I’m going to come,” she breathes,raspy.

“Come for me, Romy,” I urge. I hum against her clit. “Come on mymouth.”

“Elio, yes!” she screams. She thrusts against me, fucking my face with wild abandon. Her thighs tighten around my jaw. I don’t stop, don’t lessen my assault on her body as she cries my name over and over, her orgasm twisting her face into the most exquisite mask ofbeauty.

“Elio!” she cries one final time. She comes in my mouth, and I drink it all in as her head tips back. Her legs relax. Her breathing relaxes, those pants turning longer,smoother.

Slowing my kisses, I watch her, stare at the most beautiful woman in the world. Her lips are swollen from my mouth. Her cheeks are flushed. Her hair is wild around her shoulders, and I needher.

Now.

I stand, cupping one hand around her neck. My eyes meet hers as I tell her the one thing I love more than anything. More than coffee, more than sex—more than it all. “I love you,Romy.”

“I love you too,” she says, reaching down to stroke my rock-hardcock.

“I love making you come,” I say, and damn it, I can’t wait to do just thatagain.

“Me too,” she says, her finger flicking at the top button of myjeans.

“I love you in my kitchen.” I groan as she slips her hand inside, running one finger over my tip before pushing down myclothing.

“Me too,” shebreathes.

“And Ilove—”

She slides one hand down my shaft. It’s the sweetest torture. The most exquisite pleasure. I want more, more, andmore.

But they’ll be here anyminute.

And there’s something I need to sayfirst.

“I love you in the mornings,” I groan.Fuck. I can’t stand it much longer. “Move in withme.”

Shestops.

Blinks.

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