I have never seen Lorenzo’s eyes so dark and full of heat. They blaze with fire, searing into my skin and making me squirm under the intensity of his gaze. I swallow hard. Did I completely misread the situation?
The hell I did. He’s the one with his hands on me, telling me he could make me come. I’m hyperaware of his fingers circling my wrist. Heat spreads from where he touches me, seeping into every part of my body and setting my skin ablaze. I go on glaring at him. Daring him. His jaw ticks. That thick vein in his temple pulses, and I grow wetter with each passing millisecond. Then he closes his eyes, momentarily breaking our connection. He draws a breath through his nose, his hand still on my wrist, and an animalistic growl rumbles in his throat. Then he picks me up, wrapping my legs around his waist and carrying me across the room to the piano. His hard cock presses against my pussy, and I stifle a moan as I instinctively rub on him.
The corners of his mouth twitch into a smirk, so I smirk right back. He places me down on the piano with a thud before taking a seat on the stool. “You sure about this?”
I arch an eyebrow, unable to resist teasing him a little more. “Sure you can’t make me come? Yep.”
He gives a single shake of his head, lips pressed together in amusement. His hands glide up my bare calves, his touch soft and warm. I shiver with anticipation.
My voice drops to a whisper, my bravado waning. “What are you going to do?”
Amusement dances in his expression. He’s the hunter and I am the prey. Just how he likes it, I bet. “Make you come,” he answers, deadpan. His hands coast higher up my legs, brushing over my knees and beneath my dress before skating along my outer thighs.
“But how?”
His dark eyes gleam dangerously. “Does it matter?”
I swallow harshly. “I guess not.” But I’m lying. From our position, it seems like he’s going to eat my pussy, and for me, that’s the most intimate thing a man can do. How the hell will I ever look him in the face again once he’s had it buried all up in there?
That arrogant smirk is back again. “Surely you’re not nervous, sunshine? Not after you just threw down that gauntlet?” His hands move to the waistband of my panties.
I harden my glare. “No.”
He tugs my panties down my hips and wetness pools in my core. Oh god. I lean back on my elbows, and my breathing grows heavier as Lorenzo’s strong hands glide over my skin. He places the underwear in his jacket pocket, and I swallow hard at the sight of his predatory gaze, the way his nostrils flare with desire. He reaches for the edge of my dress, pushing it up over my thighs. My heart rate increases with every inch of bare flesh he exposes.
He breaks eye contact, but only to trail his wickedly delicious lips up the inside of my legs. My legs shake, skin sizzling with electricity. Edging closer to the apex of my thighs, he groans softly and pushes my dress higher until it’s bunched around my waist. I’m completely exposed to him, my pulse thundering in my ears.
A blush creeps over my chest, racing up my neck and cheeks. His gaze locks on the space between my thighs, and his eyes darken even further. A tremor runs through my entire body as he stares at my pussy like a starving man let loose on an all-you-can-eat buffet. His soft kisses turn to tiny bites, moving higher.
I suck in a breath as he gets closer to the spot where, despite my lingering embarrassment, I’m desperate to feel him. His fingers skate up my inner thighs, leaving trails of fire everywhere they touch. My back arches and I moan softly.
“I can smell your sweet pussy, sunshine,” he says with a low, rumbling growl that vibrates against my sensitive flesh. “So fucking wet for me, huh?”
“Holy mother of god,” I murmur, letting my head hang back between my shoulder blades.
“Mmhmm,” he mumbles, nipping at the skin at the very top of my thighs. “So fucking beautiful.”
“Lorenzo!” I plead with him, but he just goes on teasing me, avoiding the place I want to feel him most. I buck my hips, and he rewards me with a dark chuckle.
“Don’t be so impatient, Mia. I’ve waited a long time to taste this pussy. I’m going to savor every second.”
He has? I look up at him again and his gaze meets mine as he blows a stream of cool air over the length of my wet slit, making me cry out. It’s so intimate. Too intimate. We shouldn’t be doing this, and definitely not here on the piano in the library. But if he stops right now, I might die. “Please?” I whimper, desperate for more.
He arches an eyebrow. “Begging, sunshine? You have no idea how much I enjoy that.”
“I thought you were going to make me come?” I pant, growing needier and wetter the longer he torments me.
He doesn’t answer. My snark seems to have zero effect on him as he continues leisurely kissing the tops of my thighs and brushing his fingers over my skin. I writhe on the piano, and the more desperate my whimpers become, the slower he goes. Damn him.
“Lorenzo, please?” I whine.
He skims his hands all the way down to my ankles, and I whine. Why must he torture me by moving further away from where I want him? But then he grabs my ankles and lifts my legs. “Lie back,” he orders, planting my feet on his shoulders.
With trembling limbs, I do as he tells me, hyperaware that I’m spread wide open and his face is only inches from me. I feel so self-conscious.
“You have a beautiful pussy, Mia,” he says with an appreciative groan. “I’m gonna enjoy eating it so fucking much.”
I bite down on my lip as he inches closer, his warm breath dancing over my sensitive flesh. When he finally kisses me there, his mouth pressed against my wet folds, I moan his name so loudly and wantonly that it makes him groan. His lips dance along my center, making heat sear deep in my core, and then his tongue darts out, warm and wet and soft, licking a path from my entrance up to my clit.
“Holy Moses,” I gasp.
“So. Fucking. Good.” His tongue swirls over and around my clit, lapping up my juices, animalistic grunts and growls rumbling from his throat. Warmth spreads through me as he coaxes wave after wave of pleasure from between my thighs, feasting on my pussy with skill and finesse. I was right. Lorenzo Moretti is a sex wizard.
A familiar pulling sensation in my abdomen and tingling in my thighs builds as he goes on sucking my clit, rimming it with his tongue but concentrating the pressure on one spot. My back arches off the piano and I grind myself against his face.
“Oh, fu-oh,” I whimper. My climax builds to a crescendo. I reach the peak, and he maintains his steady yet relentless pace, and soon I’m bucking like a rodeo bull and screaming his name. Even after my hips still and I’m panting from the strength of my orgasm, he continues to suck and lick, wringing every last drop of pleasure from me. Blinking, I stare up at the ceiling, all the bones in my body turned to Jell-O.
Only when I’ve stopped whimpering and trembling does Lorenzo let up. Despite the incredible orgasm he just wrung from my body, I groan at the loss of him. That was so much, yet not enough. I lift my head, and he catches my eye and winks, making my cheeks flush pink. His beard glistens with my arousal. Holy banana-balls.
He won.
I push myself up onto shaky elbows and open my mouth to speak, but no words come out. What can I say? Beg him to keep going? Plead with him to fuck me? Because that’s what I want more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.
My pussy aches with a carnal longing to feel him deep inside me, and my eyes brim with tears as I stare at him, silently begging him not to leave me like this. Not after what he just did. After what we just shared.
He stands and my heart stutters but resumes its rhythm when he plants his hands on the piano, bracketing my hips. His dark eyes burn into mine, searing into my soul. “You gonna let me fuck you, Mia?”
Holy mother of bananas. “Yes please.”
