Page 122 of Auctioned Innocence
“I love you,” I tell him before attaching my lips to his nipple, sucking, nipping, and teasing the sensitive bud ever so gently. His hands rake through my hair, as a soft, subdued moan fills my ears just after I switch nipples. He moans again, just as soft when I flick and tweak one nipple with my fingers as I suck the other one.
Back and forth, I switch between nipples, teasing and tweaking, nibbling and sucking. His breath comes in shallow rasps. His groans become more ragged and his body quivers. He’s hard again. I can feel the evidence poking, begging to have my attention.
“I love you too,” he says raggedly.
His words warm me and help heal the broken parts of me. I take my time to appreciate the little things I’ve never taken the time to appreciate: his earlobes, the corners of his lips, the pulsating vein on his neck, shoulder blades, his scarred upper arms, collarbones, abs, and every inch of skin on his chest right down to his hip bones.
And I watch him slowly lose control over himself.
The sight of Dante, moaning, flushed, horny, andrawmakes me feel so loved. It reinforces my determination, gives me all the support that I need to continue on my journey. His skin is warm and is coated with a light layer of sweat. I do a sweeping inspection, to make sure I’ve left no part of him untouched.
There’s not.
My lips briefly hover over his to say something, but he cuts me off with a feverish, passionate, and urgent kiss. He buries his fists in my hair, holding me there as if I’m going to leave him here, like this. His tongue invades my mouth and halts all intellectual thoughts. He kisses me thoroughly, holds me like he’ll never let me go again, and sighs in my mouth.
Eventually, Dante’s kiss becomes less demanding and slowly he starts to pull away. He cups my cheeks, caressing them with his thumb as he stares at me like I’m the most beautiful creature in the world.
My hand drifts down to wrap around his erection, stroking gracefully. I watch his entire body tense and his chest rise and fall with each shallow breath. “I want to take care of you,” I whisper, marking his every moment. “Can I?”
He’s groaning almost painfully. “Yes.”
I roll over so I’m on top of him and kiss my way down his body until I’m eye level with his cock. I lick the head slowly and Dante moans. His teeth clench together as his hands fist my hair. “Yes.”
I let him regain composure momentarily—just a moment of rest before my mouth surrounds him almost completely. I suck earnestly. His entire body quivers with every bobble of my head, hips arching as he strains against me. He’s moaning my name, louder and louder.
God, I love this man.
Dante moans my name again, urging me to go faster, and when I listen, I’m no longer concerned about anything else. I pull back slowly with my mouth tight, swirl my tongue around the tip, lick slowly with pressure, and draw him fully in my mouth again until he can’t go in any further.
Four quick bobs of my head before I repeat.
It’s working like a charm. He’s cursing, calling my name, bucking his hips like crazy, fisting my hair, and panting like he’s running a marathon.
Breaking the rhythm, I look up at him and relinquish control for a moment. I place his hands on the back of my head and Dante understands what I’m trying to tell him. With his fists buried in my hair, he keeps me in as deep as he can without choking me and thrusts into my mouth, faster. I softly hum around him and the vibrations nearly makes Dante break as this foreign, strangled moan escapes his lips.
“Sofia!” His entire body goes rigid.
I know that he’s not going to make it any longer so I make him stop and replace lips with a hand, to hold him off a bit longer.
“Don’t stop,” he says urgently and hoarsely, his hand covering mine.
I don’t. How can I? I do, however, move his hand, take him back into my mouth, guide his thrusts until we find a speed we’re both happy with.
I’m humming.
He’s moaning.
I’m gripping his thighs.
His fists are clutching my hair for dear life.
I purposely tighten my mouth around him. The sharp and strangled yell that sprouts from the back of his throat makes me grin. Each synchronized move drags him closer and closer to the edge. He’s totally wild and uninhibited now. Stiff, rough, yelling my name, shaking, gripping my hair tighter.
Seeing him with no inhibition is worth it. I keep my hands on his hips to control his frenzied thrusts, swirling my tongue, but it’s no use. He’s a man possessed, and I love to see him completely out of sorts and unconstrained, looking wild.
He deserves this.
“I—”
