Page 159 of Brutal Crown
“You know what you do to me?” he growls against my throat.
I thread my fingers into his hair. “If it’s anything like what you do to me, I think I do.”
He pulls my zipper down at the back, slow and deliberate. His lips trail down my chest, reverent and greedy all at once. I gasp when he undoes my bra before taking a nipple into his mouth.
“Is it just me, or are they getting bigger?” He smiles devilishly, looking up at me.
I’m too far gone to muster a snarky response, so I just moan. He trails kisses down to my stomach, and when he gets to my panties, he pulls them off together with my dress.
The soft night breeze brushes over my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. Francesco’s eyes glaze over as he watches every inch of me, like he’s engraving me in his mind.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he growls, getting on his knees before me for another kind of worship.
“Oh,” I moan as he kisses the inside of my thigh. He pulls my legs further apart, throwing them over his shoulders. My back hits the pillar behind me, my hands burying into his thick hair as his mouth finds my pussy.
He licks between my folds slowly, making sure to suck each one in turn before moving to the next. His tongue is hot, but not unpleasantly so. The rough stubble on his chin scrapes over the sensitive skin there, and I gasp in response. The sound makes him chuckle against my thigh, and fuck, that sound makes me want more.
A little nudge from a finger slipping inside of me has me gasping louder, the night air carrying my voice. He adds another finger, then another, until I’m writhing against his face and bucking off the stone bench in my climax.
When he rises, he lifts me into his arms like I weigh nothing and carries me to the cushions by the table, our half-eaten meal long forgotten.
I watch him with hazy eyes as he slowly, torturously, removes his clothes until he’s completely naked before me. He lets me drink him in for a while, and that is what I do.
I let my eyes trail over the rippling muscles and sharp edges of his body. I drink in his tattoos. They make his already perfect body even more perfect.
My eyes travel down to the deep V of his stomach, and I think about what it would be like to press my mouth against the skin there. I lick my lips in anticipation. I don’t realize how thirsty I am, or if it’s even remotely possible to be physically thirsty for him, until he starts marching toward me. I take in his beautiful cock, admiring the veins that swirl around his thickness.
I sigh in pleasure as he slowly climbs over my body, his heavy weight pressing over me.
And there, under a ceiling of stars, he enters me with a groan, burying himself to the hilt.
We move together slowly. Like the world has stopped spinning. Like this moment is all we’ll ever need. His fingers spread over my body, protective, possessive, and loving.
His hips grind into mine, and I moan with each movement. He buries himself deep into me, into every crevice and corner of my body. His movements are strong and demanding, yet still soft. My hands find their way around his waist and grip hard, like I’m afraid to let go.
I don’t want to lose him. I don’t want to stop feeling his weight on top of me, the heat radiating off of him, and the taste of him on my tongue. I want to feel the beat of his heart against mine, hear the sound of his voice, smell the scent of him. I want to live inside this feeling forever.
I moan as he strokes my hair, whispering incoherent words into my ear.
He pushes himself in, out, in again, faster, harder, deeper than he had been so far. Each thrust is harder than the last. He pounds into me like the earth is crumbling under his feet. A sound so raw and desperate, so desperate, tears through me as he makes love to me under the moonlight.
I grip him tighter than before as we climb higher and higher and higher.
And then, we are both falling, shuddering uncontrollably with pleasure.
He holds the back of my head as we both gasp and cry out our names. His body shakes convulsively over mine, sweat dripping down from his face, his shoulders shaking with exertion and emotion. I hold him close as the tremors fade away, my arms wrapped tightly around his waist.
And we stay there, tangled up together beneath a blanket of stars, just the two of us, lost in our own little universe.
His hand slides over my stomach as he turns to kiss my forehead.
“Forever?”
I smile and nod. “Forever and always.”
42
FRANCESCO
