Page 59 of The Mafia's Christmas Baby
His eyes are locked on mine, glassy with want, wide with something close to awe.
“You’re going to ruin me,” he says, voice shaking, hands fisting in my hair now like he might fall without the grip.
Letting his cock slip out with a pop, I lick just the tip of it.
He shudders.
His knees go loose.
I open my mouth and take him in again, slow, wet, deep enough for him to feel it in his spine.
He moans, one sharp, helpless sound.
My hands grip his hips as my tongue traces every line, every pulse.
I draw him in with purpose, retreat just to tease the head, then swallow him again, deeper this time, letting him feel the full heat of my mouth.
I hum low against him, and the vibration makes him buck hard into my throat.
“Elisa… fuck.” His voice is ruined already, and I’ve barely started.
I vary the pace—long strokes, then shallow ones, my tongue never still.
I let him feel everything—the drag of my lips, the wet slide of heat, the pressure of my mouth as I suck harder, deeper, just to hear him gasp.
He can’t stay still.
His hand clenches in my hair, the other gripping the table like if he lets go, he’ll come apart completely.
I smile around him.
As I work him deeper, I slide a hand between my thighs, already aching. I’m drenched.
My fingers glide over slick skin, and I moan around him as I touch myself, circling my clit with slow, tight strokes that echo the rhythm of my mouth.
He feels it.
He hears it.
The moan I let out when I press two fingers inside myself is muffled by his cock, but it vibrates around him, and he jolts.
“Fuck,” he chokes out. “Are you—are you touching yourself?”
I glance up, lips wrapped around him, and nod.
My eyes never leave his.
That look of dark hunger on his face spurs me on.
My hand moves faster, wetter, fingers curling inside me as I suck him deep, the sounds of my mouth and my pleasure filling the room.
He’s barely holding on now, voice breaking with every breath.
He’s trembling, fighting for control, while I fall apart on my own fingers.
The pleasure coils tight, fast, burning through me.
Every time I hollow my cheeks and swallow around him, I feel myself getting closer—his taste, his heat, the way he moans my name like it’s sacred.
