Page 61 of Lourdes & the Mafia
His hands grasp at my ankles, covering the straps of the heels I wear. And slowly, he glides them up my bare legs, dipping his hands beneath my dress, taking the material up with him until he’s grasping at the backs of my thighs.
His very touch ignites a fire beneath my skin, one that can’t be put out. One that refuses to be smothered.
And all that’s left to do is fucking burn.
“Hold your dress up, Amore,” he instructs. “Carefully. Wouldn’t want to wrinkle the fabric.”
I do as he says with trembling fingertips, staring down at him with wide eyes. He looks like a god from that position, and he’s on his knees forme.
“Good girl,” he praises, once I have the fabric bunched up to my waist.
My knees tremble, the threat of them caving in very real.
He then reaches over the lace edge of the panties I’m wearing, teasing the edge of the fabric where it touches the sensitive skin near my pussy. My breath catches as he hooks a finger inside, grazing past my folds to yank the material away.
“Just a little taste,” he whispers, and it sounds like he’s talking more to himself than to me. Lorenzo leans forward, while pulling the panties tighter. The way they press against my skin, digging into me to bare me before him, makes arousal coat the inside of my walls. I feel myself gushing under his attention, and I watch as he takes a sniff, groaning as he does it. “Perfection,” he says, digging his nose into my pussy.
“Oh, fuck—”
My curse is cut off with another inhale from him, and then the press of the tip of his tongue against my clit. It’s a teasing touch, one that does what it’s meant to by driving me insane. “Mmm,” he hums. “Spread your legs a little wider for me, Amore.”
I do as he says, widening my thighs just a fraction. When I do, he goes forward, licking a stripe from my folds up to my clit. It’s one lick. Just one warm, languorous lick where he stops his tongue against the center of my desire, using different degrees of pressure against me. Each one elicits sounds from my mouth; each touch leaves me wanting.
“Lorenzo…” My thighs tremble and my voice shakes. “Stop teasing.”
He hums a lazy sound. “Oh, alright. Fine.”
That’s all the warning I get before he dives in. His tongue delves inside my body, torturing me in vicious strokes that go in and out, up and down. He’s rich with enthusiasm and skill in equal measure, sucking my folds into his mouth, one at a time. He uses his teeth to nip against me, to bite down with just the right amount of pressure that has me bowing forward.
I gasp, my breaths harsh, my skin bursting under the surface, igniting like the inferno that lives outside of this castle. He sucks and slurps, drinking up my juices like a starving man. Every meticulous touch against me only drives me higher up that crest. It has me crying out, begging for more. Begging for him to give attention to my clit, which he’s so far been avoiding.
“Lorenzo…” My knuckles tighten against the fabric of the dress. I want to drop it, to grasp at his hair and press him against me, but I don’t want the dress curtaining him and blocking my view. I’m enjoying watching way too much, the way he grumbles and groans as he devours me like I’m his favorite fucking meal.
My hips move in tandem with his tongue strokes, chasing the press of his tongue against me. Finally, fucking finally, he gives attention to my clit, taking it between the firm press of his lips.
“Oh, joder!” Curses leave my lips by the dozen as he wrings the pleasure out of my body like squeezing the water out of a rag.
“Yes.” He speaks against the lips of my pussy. “Give me your pleasure, Amore. Give me your screams.” He bites down against my clit and the pain sends me spiraling through a fucking dark hole. It’s like a spiritual awakening. I’m twirling through empty air, flailing with nothing to hold on to. It’s bliss, vicious and gripping as I tumble, falling faster and faster. “Give me your taste.”
I scream just like he wanted me to, just as my body gives in, liquid gushing from between my legs. And he fucking. Laps. It. Up.
He slurps through my juices, gulping them down in greedy swallows, licking every inch of me clean until there’s nothing left behind except my damp pussy and the soul-scorching memory of what he felt like between my thighs.
Slowly, he pulls away, setting my panties back in place and looks up at me, full lips shining with my release. He doesn’t speak. He takes the dress bunched in my fingers and slowly lowers it over my thighs and down to my ankles.
“There,” he whispers as he comes to a stand, letting his body slide across mine. Seductive. Dangerous. He stops near my mouth, where I can all but taste myself against my lips. “That’s my good girl.”
Lourdes
Theothersarewaitingfor us in the foyer, Ramiel with his hands crossed against his chest and Kane with his fists stuffed deep into the pockets of his suit. He paces back and forth, his sharp gaze snapping on us as we emerge to greet them.
I can feel how heated my face is and thank the gods of melanin that they can’t see me flushing. I’m sure it’s obvious what we did before we came out here. It’s not like my dress got wrinkled while Lorenzo went down on me, but he wears a confident, obvious smile and holds my hand in his, fingers laced together.
Kane stares at our joined hands, his upper lip curling.
I wonder what he’d do if I hissed at him and told him to eat my dick.
He’d probably jump on the chance just to have something shoved up that stiff asshole of his.
