Angelo

When he says it, there's that fizzing sensation in my blood again, like champagne bubbling through my veins. 'Do you mean it?" I ask, my voice trembling, afraid that he'll change his mind. That this is some trick, some other kind of cruel punishment, and that he's not really going to give me what I so desperately want.


'If you want this," Angelo repeats, his voice deep and gravelly and laced with lust, 'then you'll be a good girl, Rosalia, and do as I say."

I suck in a sharp breath, the words burning straight to my core as I reach for the hem of my tank top. 'Slowly," he instructs. 'Let me enjoy seeing you strip for me for the first time, beautiful girl."

His praise warms every inch of my skin. I do my best to obey, to fight the urge to rip my clothes off, and slowly slide the top upwards, inching it bit by bit up my stomach to show the smooth expanse of pale flesh, and then higher, to the curves of my full breasts. At the sight of the bare skin, the hint of rosy nipple, Angelo clicks his tongue.


'You went out without a bra? That's another five strokes, young lady." His voice is hoarse as I pause. 'Keep going, Rosalia, unless you've changed your mind. Let me see those pretty breasts."

The palpable desire in his voice makes me feel as if I'm going to melt. I obey, raising the tank top slowly over my breasts, the silky brush of the fabric over my sensitive nipples making me gasp. I pull it over my head, tossing it to the side, and reach for my jeans—still unbuttoned and only half-zipped.



'Slow," Angelo reminds me, his gaze raking hungrily over my bare torso. His eyes catch on my breasts, my waist, dropping lower, and I've never had anyone look at me with such raw desire before. I can feel how wet I am already, and I squeeze my thighs together a little as I slide my jeans down, this time past my hips, all the way off until I step out of them.

'Panties." Angelo's gaze is fixed hungrily between my thighs. 'Every inch, Rosalia. You're going to take your punishment naked. I want you thoroughly punished, and then, if you're a good girl, maybe there will be a reward."

A reward?I feel myself tighten at that, a hollow clenching inside of myself that makes me whimper softly. I want to know what the reward is, what he might finally give me in exchange for my willing, bare submission to my punishment. Even thinking it makes me clench again with desire, my breathing coming faster as I slide my silky pink panties down over my hips, letting them drop to the floor with a quick exhalation of breath as Angelo's eyes settle between my legs.

'Come here," he murmurs, and I obey, knowing that if at any moment I changed my mind, if I didn't want this after all, I could tell him, and he would stop. It's part of what makes me feel safe with him, what makes me feel like I can walk up to the edge of where he's sitting and stand there, waiting for him to tell me what to do next.

His hand touches my hip, and I whimper again. I'm aching now, those champagne bubbles exploding in my blood, all of me poised and eager to find out what happens next. 'I'm going to want you to shave this sweet pussy for me, Rosalia," he murmurs, his fingers stroking the front of my thigh, so close to the apex of it that I gasp a little. 'But we don't need to worry about that tonight. Now, if you still want this, lay down over my lap."

This time, I don't hesitate. I bend down, stretching my naked body over his lap; the fact that he's still fully clothed while I'm bare from my head to my toes only adds to how arousing all of this is. His hand smooths over my ass, still tingling from the earlier spanking.

'We're starting over, Rosalia. Five more for your lack of a bra, so we'll make it an even twenty. Be a good girl, and count for me."

When his hand comes down, and I cry out the first one, I squirm. I can't help it. By five, I'm openly writhing on his lap. By ten, I'm arching and rubbing against his thigh, desperate for some friction, for something to ease the burning ache between my legs that has, at this point, outstripped the burning in my ass from the spanking. 'Please—" I whimper, and Angelo chuckles.

'Not until you finish taking your punishment, sweetheart," he murmurs. 'And you're squirming around far too much." His other hand presses on my back, trying to hold me still. 'If you don't want me to send you to your room with a promise not to touch yourself, no matter how wet you are, then you'll try as hard as you can to be still. Alright?"

I nod, gasping.

'Say yes, sir," Angelo growls, and I let out another whimpering, helpless moan.

'Yes, sir," I whisper, and another slap of his hand connects with the curve of my ass.

Another, and another. 'You're being a good girl," Angelo croons as he smooths his hand over my skin, bringing down the fifteenth stroke. 'You're taking your punishment so well. Such a good girl for me."Sixteen, seventeen.Three more, and he'll be finished. My ass feels like it's on fire, red-hot with pain, but the rest of me is throbbing with an aching, needy pleasure that makes me feel like I might combust entirely if Angelo doesn't give me something more soon.

Eighteen, nineteen.I sob out the strokes through frustrated tears, trying not to buck against his thigh, feeling as if I'm coming apart at the seams. 'Please," I whimper again as the twentieth connects with my ass, and Angelo makes a low sound deep in his throat, his hand gently stroking my ass.

'You were such a good girl," he murmurs. 'I do think you deserve a reward. Can you spread your legs for me, Rosalia? Let me feel how wet you are."

I let out another helpless moan, my thighs parting immediately.Ican feel how wet I am, to the point that I'm sure I've made a mess of his trousers, and the moment his fingers slide over my swollen folds, I gasp.

'Now tell me, sweetheart—and don't lie—have you touched yourself before?" His fingers slide back and forth, collecting the wetness between my thighs, so close to that sensitive spot that I desperately wish he'd touch.

I nod, moaning softly.

'When was the first time?" His finger dips between, circling my entrance. 'God, you're so wet. Such a filthy girl, getting so wet from being punished. You're going to feel so good around my cock."

'Oh—" I cry out, nearly sobbing from need, the feelings and sensations a thousand times more intense than anything I've ever felt before. 'The first time—oh god—" I buck against his fingers, aching for him to slide them into me, but he just slips one downwards, nearly to that spot. 'I saw you touching yourself," I whisper, when I realize he won't move his finger again until I answer. 'In your office. That day I went out to the pool. I watched you get off, and I—I felt like I needed to touch myself, too. So I did, and I felt—" I sink my teeth into my lip. 'I—"

'You had an orgasm." Angelo cups his hand against me, and I rock back into the touch, moaning. 'You were a bad girl, spying on me like that. But I'll let it go this time. Now I'm going to give you another orgasm, Rosalia, since you took your spanking so well. But this pussy is mine now." He slides his finger a fraction closer. 'I'm going to make it mine tonight when I give you my cock. No more touching yourself without permission, is that understood?"

I hesitate, my mind spinning into overdrive. Just the thought of that kind of control makes me clench, and my face flames as Ifeelmy arousal dripping onto his palm.

'Rosalia?" he prompts. 'Your pleasure is mine now.Allof you is mine. If I find out you've come without permission, you'll be punished."

'I understand," I whisper. I can feel how hard he is, thick and rigid underneath my hips, and I can't resist the urge to squirm against him, pressing down against his erection. The promise that he's going to fuck me later, that I'm going to find out what it feels like to have him inside of me, sends a thrill through me that has me moaning the instant his finger slips forward.

'That's it," he murmurs. 'Look at you. I just barely touch your clit, and you're a moaning mess. What a good girl." His fingers stroke my hair, twining through it as he rubs between my thighs, the strokes becoming firmer and more insistent as I buck and twist into his touch. 'You're going to come for me, aren't you?"

I nod, whimpering as I twist my hips against his fingers. My hands clench into fists, and I hear Angelo's low groan as I buck against the hard ridge of his cock again.

'Just let go, sweetheart," he murmurs, massaging my clit in tight circles, his fingers steady and firm. I can hardly believe that he's finally touching me like this, that he's giving me everything I wanted so badly, that he's going to make me come. 'Come for me, Rosalia. Come all over my fingers. Good girl."

The orgasm hits me like a tidal wave. I cry out, the sensation gathering where his fingers are rubbing against me, bursting out over my skin, tensing every muscle and making me seize and buck against his hand, my fingers clawing at his leg as my back arches. I've never felt anything like it—not from my own fingers—and I ride his hand helplessly, grinding against him for as much of the pleasure as I can manage. 'Angelo—" I moan out his name, nearly in tears from the intensity of it. He slows his fingers, sliding them against me in a soft, soothing motion as he eases me down from the climax.

He lifts me off of his lap, moving me in one swift motion so that I'm laying back against the pillows of the couch, and I spread my legs eagerly, expecting that he's going to slide into me next. Angelo chuckles softly, shaking his head.

'Not yet, sweetheart," he murmurs. 'We're not going to rush this."

'But you said—" I'm on the verge of pouting, and I think he can see it, because he smirks down at me, his hand going to the button of his trousers.

'Oh, I'm going to take your virginity tonight, Rosalia. But it will be tonight. After you take a long bath and then eat dinner—allof it—" he adds sternly. 'And then I will take you to bed, and we'll do this properly. First, though—"

He sucks in a breath as he frees his thick, rigid cock, leaning down to scoop my panties off of the floor. 'First, I need to come. I won't last long tonight, not as worked up as you've gotten me."

I start to lean up, to reach for him, and Angelo shakes his head. 'Not yet,dolce," he murmurs. 'I just want you to watch. One more lesson for my good girl."

His hand wraps around his cock, stroking in long, sure movements as he sets the panties aside for a moment on the coffee table. I watch as he raises the fingers he used to get me off to his lips, licking my taste off of them as he groans. 'I can't wait to taste you tonight," he murmurs, his hand moving faster over his cock. 'You're so fucking beautiful,mi vida."His gaze slides over me; his voice is husky and thick with lust. 'So fucking perfect."

Helooks gorgeous, kneeling above me, his long-fingered hand wrapped around his thick, pulsing cock, the veins standing out as he strokes more quickly. 'Look at you," he breathes. 'My perfect wife. My sweet girl."

Angelo's voice catches, and he grabs the panties, holding them in front of his cock in his left hand as his hips cant forward, thrusting into his fist as he groans. 'Watch me come for you," he growls, his cockhead flaring as he presses his thumb below the tip, his hand moving quickly now, angling his cock down towards the silky fabric. 'Watch me fill these wet panties up with my—fucking—cum—"

He lets out a groan, his face tightening as the cum spurts from his cock, splashing onto my panties as his cock swells and throbs. I watch in fascination, my hand twitching, nearly straying back to rub myself again until I remember what he said earlier, and I catch myself just in time. I'm aching all over again, dripping wet as I watch him come, the sight in front of me so utterly filthy and arousing all at once. I watch him press the fabric to his still-spurting tip, groaning as he rubs it over the swollen flesh, jerking his cock into my panties for a few more strokes before he motions for me to stand up.

When I do, he turns, gently slipping the panties back up my legs, the fabric settling on my hips. I shiver and moan when I feel the warmth of the cum-soaked fabric between my thighs, and I see Angelo's half-hard cock twitch again at the sound.

'You're going to wear these upstairs," he says, gently patting between my thighs. 'And when you're upstairs, I want you to lay down, and make yourself come again—but you can only touch outside the fabric. Is that understood?"

I nod.

'I'll know if you don't obey me," he says sternly. 'I want you to come wearing these, and then take them off. Take a long bath, and get dressed for dinner. Meet me downstairs at eight. Is that understood?"

I nod again, my skin flushed. My nipples are hard, my skin aching with desire, and all I can think about is his cum touching my skin and what he's told me to do. I feel like I'm in a dream as I go upstairs, a kind of foggy haze that wraps itself around me and makes me feel dizzy with desire, curiosity, and anticipation, all tangled together in a delicious mess of emotion.

Angelo said he'd know if I didn't obey, but I can't think of any reason why I wouldn't. Even though he made me come with his fingers, I'm still aching by the time I reach my room—and it's more than that. Iwantto obey him. I want to please him. I want to be a good girl for him, and he's given me very clear instructions on how to do precisely that.

Instructions I'm dying to carry out.

I strip off my clothes the minute I'm in my room with the door closed, with none of the slowness that Angelo insisted on, down to my panties. My skin flushes with a thrilling kind of embarrassment as I stretch out nearly nude atop my bed, reaching down between my thighs to touch the damp fabric there.

It's still faintly warm against my fingertips, and I shiver, arousal fizzing through my blood all over again. I can still see Angelo with my panties in his hand, his fingers wrapped around his cock, forearm flexing as he stroked himself urgently, the evidence of his pleasure soaking the fabric currently between my legs. Reflexively, I push my finger against it, nudging it between my folds, up against my clit. His cum, warm against my skin.

The moan that slips out of me is involuntary, filling the air, my hips twitching up to meet my hand. I'm still so sensitive, even after what happened downstairs—maybe more so because of it. The friction of the fabric against my clit feels different than my bare fingertip, but it feelsgood, amplified by the utter filthiness of what Angelo told me to do. I replay the scene over and over in my head as I circle my finger around my clit, urging that building sensation higher, imagining that he's coming on me instead of my panties, his cum splashing over my skin, my pussy, my clit—

I let out another soft, keening moan at the thought, my hips bucking up, my finger rubbing now instead of circling, back and forth over the tight, hard bud of flesh where all of the pleasure is centered. It feels so good, sodirty—but I'm being a good girl for Angelo, I remind myself. His good girl, pleasuring myself just the way he told me to.

That's what sends me over the edge. I clap my other hand over my mouth to muffle the high-pitched cry of pleasure as my entire body tightens, shuddering with another orgasm as I rub the cum-soaked fabric into my clit, two of my fingers sliding down to push it against my entrance, grinding against the sensation and the thought of his cum all over me. The fabric is soaked all over again, drenched with my arousal, and I twist and moan on the bed, wanting every last bit of pleasure I can draw out of the orgasm as I come on my fingers.

Afterward, I lay there, gasping, feeling so liquid and boneless that I'm not even sure I can get up to shower. I have to—but I lay there a little longer, luxuriating in the feeling between my thighs, before sliding the panties off and setting them aside.

An hour and a half later, I'm ready for dinner—dressed in one of the floaty maxi dresses that Angelo is used to seeing me in, this one black chiffon with huge, lush pink and burgundy flowers printed on it. I slip on a pair of garnet studs, leaving my hair loose around my shoulders and putting on just the lightest bit of makeup. I hesitate for a moment, fingers hovering over my assortment of lip stains and lipsticks, and then I reach for a deep garnet shade to match my earrings.

If Angelo wants me to use my mouth on him later, I like the idea of leaving some of my lipstick behind.

He's at the dining room table when I come downstairs, a decanter of wine already between our plates, and he's sipping at a long-stemmed glass of red. My breath catches a little when I see him, and it almost feels like a dream.

I've wanted him for so long, and now—now I think I'm finally going to get what I want. Angelo as my husband—in every way.

He looks so handsome sitting there, wearing dark grey chinos and a black t-shirt, his dark hair swept back away from his face, the glass of wine in his hand. When he turns and sees me, his green eyes filling with a heat I'm beginning to recognize, my heart flutters in my chest.

'I had the kitchen make your favorite dinner." Angelo gestures to the chair next to him. 'You've been picking at your food for a long time, Rosalia. You don't have to stuff yourself—in fact, it's probably better that you don't—but you do need to eat a meal." His expression softens as I come to sit next to him, and he reaches out, touching my hand gently. 'You said that you like that I protect you and take care of you. I intend to keep doing that. But you will need to be a good girl and obey me. And if this truly is the dynamic that you want—there will be consequences if you don't."

His gaze is still kind as he says it, and I feel my heart flutter again in my chest, nervous anticipation flooding me. 'What if I disobey because I want to be punished?" I whisper, and I see that twitch at the corner of Angelo's mouth, his fingers flexing around the stem of his glass.

'Then you'll still be punished," he murmurs, his voice huskier than before, and I can tell that the idea has some appeal for him, too. 'But I can't stop you from enjoying it, Rosalia."

There's always been tension between us, from the very first day he arrived back in Chicago. But tonight, as I eat my dinner with some actual interest for the first time in weeks, the tension is so thick that it feels palpable. I don't know exactly what's going to happen when we go upstairs, but I have some ideas. The anticipation fizzes through my blood, making my fingers tremble on my fork as I eat.

'Only one glass of wine," Angelo tells me sternly, when I reach for the decanter again. I give him the beginnings of a pout, but he just smiles at me. 'I want you clearheaded for tonight," he says softly, his hand reaching for mine. My skin tingles at the touch of his long fingers brushing over my knuckles. 'I want you to be sure of what you want, and able to tell me if you want me to stop. I want you to remember and enjoy all of it. I don't want anything clouded by alcohol or for there to be any questions as to whether or not tonight is exactly what you want."

His voice is so soft, so tender, that it makes my eyes mist over with tears. I nod, reaching for my water glass instead, my pulse beating hard in my throat. I'm ready for dinner to be finished, for us to go upstairs so I can finally,finallyhave Angelo all to myself, but he's being careful not to rush anything. I suspect that it's less about making an event of the whole thing and more about giving me time to change my mind, if I want to.

But there's not a single chance that I will.

'I picked a new suite of rooms for us," Angelo says, when we're finally finished with dessert, and he sets his napkin aside. 'I didn't think you'd want to sleep in the old master suite, but if we're going to do this—share a bed, behave as husband and wife—then we should have our own bedroom suite." He pushes his chair back, reaching for my hand. 'Come with me."

I have that feeling, once again, of being in a dream as he leads me upstairs. He picked a suite on the third floor of the mansion, one that has a balcony that overlooks the expansive stonework patio behind the house. Whoever decorated the room did it all in soft blues and golds, giving it a faintly French design, and the bed is huge—a four-poster in dark wood and draped with luxurious bedding that matches the color scheme and piled with soft-looking pillows. My face heats as I imagine Angelo spilling me back into that pile of pillows, and when he closes the door behind us, my heart starts to race.

'We're going to take this slow," he says softly, reaching for my hand and pulling me closer to him. 'Tonight is about you. I'll teach you all the things that I'll want for my own pleasure later."

He takes that final step, closing the small distance between us, and his hand rises to touch my cheek. I sigh with pleasure at the touch of his fingers against my skin, the way he trails them through my hair, and as he tips my face up to his, I feel as if I can hardly breathe.

'We'll start with this," Angelo murmurs, and for the first time, he kisses me.

My knees nearly buckle. His mouth is soft and warm, the kiss light, brushing over my lips. I can tell that he meant it when he said he wanted to take things slow. As much as my heart is galloping in my chest, every part of me yearning to find out what it will be like to have him inside of me, I know that slow is better.

I want to remember all of this.

His hands rest on my waist, sliding gently against the chiffon fabric clinging to my skin, skimming up my ribs to gently press against the sides of my breasts. Slowly, he deepens the kiss, the press of his lips more insistent, each movement of his mouth increasing with his touch. His fingers find the curve beneath my breasts as he softly sucks my lower lip between his, his thumbs brushing over my stiffening nipples as his tongue slides into my mouth. I let out a soft, keening moan as I feel the hot slide of his tongue against mine for the first time.

'Rosalia." Angelo breaks the kiss, soft humor in his voice as his hands cup my breasts, fingers still tracing the shape of my nipples underneath the chiffon. 'Do you evenowna bra?"

I narrow my eyes at him. 'Yes," I tell him indignantly, leaning forward in an effort to steal another kiss. 'But I thought you might like it if I didn't have one on tonight."

'I do." Angelo's hands move upwards, fingers skimming over my chest, tracing my collarbones, moving to the thin straps of my dress. 'But I would also enjoy seeing you in layers of lingerie, unwrapping each one to get to the next reveal of skin, the next hint of the pleasure to come—" He bends down, pressing his mouth to my collarbone, his tongue tracing a hot line over the sharp edge of it, across my shoulder, his lips pressed to the curve of my shoulder as he moves the thin straps aside. 'We'll have time for all of that," he murmurs, his hands going to my waist again as he guides me back towards the bed. 'But tonight—"

He kisses me again, soft and slow, as his fingers reach for the zipper at the side of my dress. Every movement is slow, intentional, and once again, I feel sure that he's giving me the chance for an out, making sure that there are no surprises so that if I change my mind, I can say so.

Another time, I might have said something. But I'm finding I'm enjoying the slow pace, the brush of his fingers against bare skin for the first time as he draws the zipper down, parting the fabric. My skin prickles under his touch, and I let out a soft, gasping breath as I feel his hand stroke my side.

Angelo slides the straps off of my shoulders, slowly, letting the dress begin to slip off of me. The chiffon drapes over my breasts, slithering down, catching on my stiff nipples, sending another wash of sensation through me before the dress catches on my hips and then, finally, pools to the floor around my feet.

There's a soft groan as Angelo looks at me, his gaze sliding over me as if he can't decide where to look first. 'You're so fucking gorgeous," he murmurs, his long-fingered hands wrapping around my waist as he lifts me just a little, setting me on the edge of the bed. 'So beautiful, my sweet girl."

I look up at him, feeling my breath catch in my throat, my heart hammering in my chest. 'Lay back," he says gently. I obey without thinking, sinking into the pile of pillows as I lay nearly nude atop our bed, only the lacy white panties I chose to wear beneath my dress still covering me.

'Christ." The word is a hiss as Angelo looks at me, his hand automatically going down to adjust the hard ridge of his cock. 'You're a vision.Fuck, I can't believe—" He moves to join me on the bed, and I look at him, my lips forming a soft pout.

'Aren't you going to get undressed, too? I want to see you." I want to find out whathelooks like naked. I want to see all of his lean, muscled body bare for me, his gorgeous cock free, all of that ridiculously handsome body on display for my pleasure, too. Angelo chuckles, his hand sliding up my calf, and he shakes his head, even as my pout deepens.

'Soon,mi vida," he murmurs. 'But for now, this is all about you. It makes it more erotic," he adds, both of his hands sliding up my legs now, parting them as he kneels between them. 'You're going to submit to me, sweet girl. You're going to give me everything, naked and vulnerable and bare for me, and I'm going to take it all." His voice deepens, his accent thickening, that heat filling his green eyes. 'And I'll decide when I get undressed for you,dolce."

His hands are on my inner thighs now, the muscles under his palms twitching and trembling. I can feel my breasts quivering with each indrawn breath, my eyes wide as I wait to find out what comes next. He parts my thighs wider, readjusting between my legs as his hands skim further up, over soft flesh to the creases of my thighs, and then he presses his thumb against my lace panties, just over my clit.

My hips jerk up towards his hand, and he chuckles softly.

'So eager," Angelo murmurs. 'Did you do what I told you,dolce? Did you come for me upstairs and then make sure this sweet pussy was bare for me tonight?"

I nod, my teeth sinking into my lower lip. Even alone in my bathroom, I'd felt so embarrassed, shaving my pussy bare for the man I planned to give my virginity to tonight, thinking of him seeing me so exposed. I couldn't stop thinking about the possibility of him touching the bare flesh, licking me there,tastingme the way he'd promised. I'd been soaking wet and throbbing by the time I had finished, my pussy slick with arousal, and I'd wanted so badly to come again.

'It turned you on to shave for me, didn't it,bellisima?" Angelo murmurs, seeing the flush in my cheeks. 'Did you disobey me? Did you make yourself come again?"

I shake my head, still biting my lip. 'No," I whisper. 'I didn't. I promise."

'But you wanted to." His thumb presses harder, the lace rubbing against my clit, and I let out a whimper. 'You wanted to touch yourself right here. You wanted to make yourself come. Such a filthy girl."

His voice is a hoarse whisper as he gently rubs my clit through the lace. I can feel a flood of arousal gathering between my legs, and I whimper again, my hips canting upwards into his touch, wanting more.

'But I'm going to be the first to touch your pretty, bare skin, aren't I?" He pulls his hand away, and I moan, my eyes misting over from frustrated need as I nod.

'Good girl." The way he says it makes me moan again as he reaches for the edge of my panties, his fingers grazing over the sharp line of my hipbones as he starts to slide the lace down my hips. 'Such a good girl for me."

I'm trembling by the time he gets my panties down to my thighs, the heat in his eyes, and the way he wets his lips with his tongue as he sees my bare, smooth skin making me clench and throb with arousal. 'Please—" I whisper, not entirely sure what I'm begging for, but completely sure for the first time that Angelo will give it to me.

He slips the panties off, tossing them to one side as he spreads my legs wide again. My cheeks flush as I feel myself opening up to his gaze, wet and vulnerable, my skin hot from the way he's looking at me. 'So wet for me," he murmurs, holding my thighs apart as he slowly strokes a fingertip over my clit, down through the slick wetness between my folds, and I let out a shuddering, gasping moan.

'You've been so good. Do you want to come on my fingers or my tongue for the first one,dolce?" His fingertip circles my clit again, and I let out a soft mewling sound, arching up into the touch.

'Fingers," I whisper, closing my eyes. Iwanthis tongue—I want to know what it feels like, but a part of me is terrified of how good it will feel, of the intensity of it. 'You're going to make me come more than once?"

Angelo laughs, dark and promising, his finger rubbing softly over my wet flesh. 'I'm going to make you come until you can't any longer,bellisima."

Another shudder of anticipation runs through me, and my fingers curl into the blankets as I look up at him with wide, expectant eyes. His fingers circle my clit, slowly first, and then faster, until I'm gasping and clawing at the blankets, so close to the edge that I hardly even realize how hard I'm biting my lower lip, my hips constantly arching upwards into his touch.

'Let go,dolce," Angelo murmurs. 'Good girl. Come for me."

The sound of his voice sends me over the edge, a tidal wave of pleasure crashing into me as I moan and twist under his hand, his fingers skillfully carrying me through it. I feel his hand stroke against my hip as he croons encouragement, over and over, his fingers slowing as the climax starts to ebb.

'Good girl. Such a good girl." He keeps murmuring it, pulling his fingers away from my oversensitive clit, still stroking my wet folds as he slips down between my thighs, spreading them wide enough that he can lay between them. 'I'm going to let you rest for a moment, and then you're going to come for me again."

I whimper, nodding, but I don't know how I'm going to bear it. The throbbing between my legs feels like almost too much, and I gasp when he gently kisses the inside of one thigh, brushing his lips upwards as the light stubble on his chin rasps against the soft skin there. He turns and does the same on the inside of my other thigh, still murmuring encouragement as I lie there, watching the handsome man between my legs in a sort of stunned amazement that this is happening at all.

Slowly, when he thinks I've rested enough, he nuzzles between my legs. I jump at the first touch of his lips against my folds, feeling the vibration of his groan as his mouth slides over my soaked flesh. 'God, you taste so fucking good," he murmurs, brushing his lips over my pussy again, still on the outer edges. 'I'm going to devour you. I want you to come all over my fucking tongue—"

When his tongue slides between my folds, I nearly come undone. The sensation is so intense, so overwhelming, that I buck upwards, nearly dislodging him as I cry out with a gasp, and Angelo chuckles, his hands gripping my thighs to hold me in place. 'Lie still,bellisima," he orders, and something about the authoritative command pins me to the bed instantly, my breath coming in quick gasps as his tongue flutters around my entrance, lapping up my arousal before sliding higher, up to my swollen, sensitive clit.

'Oh! Oh—Angelo—" I cry out as his tongue slides over me there, wet and hot, the pleasure flooding me instantly. It feels like I'm going to come before he's even barely begun, the soft heat driving me wild as he licks and flutters over the swollen flesh, and my hand finds his hair without thinking, fingers threading through it as I buck against his mouth. 'I—I—"

'Yes," he murmurs, pulling away just long enough to look up at me. 'Come for me again, Rosalia. Come all over my tongue so I can taste you."

It feels so good—almosttoogood. I writhe against his mouth, crying out as he starts to flutter his tongue again, almost afraid to give in. But after a moment, there's no choice. The pleasure is too much, building to a crescendo that I can't fight, and the moan that escapes me turns into something close to a high-pitched scream as it washes over me in wave after wave.

I'm still trembling when I feel his fingers pressing against my entrance. My body instantly tries to clench around him, and Angelo brushes his lips over my thigh again, his fingers lightly rubbing against me.

'This will make it easier for you to take my cock," he murmurs. 'You're almost certainly going to come again, Rosalia. Just let go for me, alright? Be a good girl, and I'll fuck you like you deserve."

I feel tears welling at the edges of my eyes, overwhelming pleasure still shuddering through every muscle. When Angelo leans in, his lips closing around my clit as he starts to suck on the still pulsing, oversensitive flesh, I make a sound like nothing I've ever heard before. His lips are tight around me, his tongue fluttering again. For a moment, I don't even realize he's pushed two fingers inside of me until I register the sudden, sharp pain and the feeling of fullness, the strange sensation of something inside of me.

He holds his fingers very still for a moment, still sucking on my clit, and my hips start to move almost of their own accord, wanting more. It feels strange, but it feelsgood,too, the sharp pain already receding in favor of the building pleasure where his mouth is pressed against me. Slowly, the fingers start to move, sliding in and out with a sound that makes my face flush red with embarrassment, but I'm too far gone to care as much as maybe I should. My entire body feels like a raw, exposed nerve, pleasure thrumming over me, and I gasp as his fingers curl, sliding into me again as he presses against a spot that makes me cry out.

My body jackknifes under his touch, only his other hand on my hip, holding me down, keeping me from dislodging him as I come again. It's not so much another orgasm as a steadily rolling wave of pleasure, ebbing and flowing again and again, until it feels as if it won't stop—as if it might not ever stop.

I can feel him working his fingers inside of me, moving them, a third scissored into my drenched entrance as I cry out and twist against his hand. Angelo pulls back, concern in his face as he looks down at me.

'Too much?" he asks softly, and I shake my head. Itisalmost too much, but I want it. The feeling of his fingers inside of me, filling me up, just makes me want more.

'I want—" I moan again as his fingers slide back, nearly out of me, arching up before I can lose his touch. 'I want you inside of me—"

Angelo groans, his fingers slipping out as he looks down at me. I can only imagine what I look like to him, naked and trembling, a wet, flushed, swollen mess between my thighs.

Slowly, he leans back, still kneeling between my legs. I start to close them, but he shakes his head, his hand pressing against my knee. 'No, sweetheart," he murmurs, his gaze hungry as it sweeps over me again. 'I want to look at you just like this. So wet and ready for me. So fucking beautiful."

His voice is rich and thick, dripping over me, and all I can do is watch breathlessly as he slides his shirt up, revealing a taut abdomen ridged with muscle, olive-skinned with dark hair spilling down his navel into the waist of his pants. I moan softly when he slides the shirt off, giving me a view of his bare, broad chest dusted with more dark hair and inked with tattoos. I'm not sure I've ever seen a more gorgeous man, and I watch eagerly as he tosses the t-shirt aside and reaches to undo his belt, wanting to see the rest of him.

I gasp when his cock springs out, framed by muscled thighs, as Angelo slides off the remainder of his clothing, kneeling gorgeously naked between my legs. He reaches down, sliding his hand over his thick, straining cock once, and I can see that he's already slick with pre-cum, his cock glistening in the light of the bedroom.

Slowly, he leans over me. I feel him brush against my inner thigh, hot and hard, as he bends to kiss me softly, his lips brushing over mine as he gently sucks my lower lip between his, the fingers of one hand caressing my cheek.

'We're going to go slowly,dolce," he murmurs. 'And if it hurts too much, you tell me to stop. We don't have to do it all tonight. We can work up to it."

I can feel how hard he is, throbbing against my thigh. I don't know how he would manage to stop, not as aroused as he must be, but I can hear the sincerity in his voice. He means it, and I nod, tilting my chin up to kiss him again.

'I want you," I whisper softly. 'Please—"

Angelo reaches between us, nudging his cock against my entrance. I gasp at the feeling of him pressing against me, thick and swollen, and his fingers spread me open as his hips move forward the slightest bit, pressing the tip of his cock into me.

I cry out, half in surprise at the sensation and half in pain, and he stops instantly, shuddering above me. 'Is it too much?" he asks, his voice low and soft, and I shake my head.

'No," I whisper, pleading. 'Please don't stop. It hurts a little, but—please don't stop."

Angelo hesitates, but he leans forward, kissing me again slowly. It's sweet and intimate, his nose brushing against mine as he deepens the kiss, and I feel his hips nudge forward infinitesimally, pushing himself into me the slightest bit more.

I gasp as I feel the tip sink into me, my hips twitching as my fingers curl into the blanket, my breath coming in soft, quick pants. 'Angelo—" I breathe his name against his lips, arching my hips into his, trying to encourage him. I want more, and the pace he's setting is torturous, as much as I know that it's for my own benefit.

Inch by inch, he slips into me. It feels strange at first, the burn of my sensitive flesh giving way to a feeling of delicious fullness as he sinks into me that last inch with a groan that seems to come up from his very soul. Angelo goes still as he sinks to the hilt, his hands flexing next to my head where he's gripping the pillows as he moans.

'God, you're so fucking tight," he murmurs, his hips twitching against mine. 'So wet—you feel so fucking good—"

One hand goes to my hip, stroking there in an almost soothing motion as he shudders above me. 'I can't wait to teach you everything," he whispers, his voice cracking with lust. 'So fucking perfect—"

When he starts to move, his mouth crushed against mine in a deep, searing kiss, I never want him to stop. I wrap my arms around his neck, fingers brushing against the soft hair at the base of his neck as he slides out of me with excruciating slowness and then back in again, the slick, wet sounds filling the room as Angelo devours my mouth.

I love this,I think, the pain fading into the background as I focus on the sensation of being filled by him, the sound of his breathless groans, the pressure of his body against mine. His skin is hot, damp with sweat as he moves against me, and I don't want it to end. I want to keep doing this forever, to be this close to him every moment, and as I feel his hips jerk and twitch against me as he sinks into me again, I know he's getting close to the edge.

'I'm not—" Angelo kisses me again, thrusting once more before shuddering and going still. 'I'm not going to last much longer—Christ, you're so fucking tight—" He grinds his hips against me, groaning, and his hand slips between us, his fingers finding my swollen clit. 'Can you come for me one more time,dolce?" he murmurs, and I nod, feeling that tight pressure deep in my belly that tells me I'm close again, too.

His fingers stroke expertly over my clit as he thrusts shallowly, his brow creased with concentration as if it's taking everything in him not to come. Once more, his cock fills me entirely as he thrusts the rest of the way. I throw back my head, a keening moan filling the air as I clench around him, and I hear Angelo curse, his hips jerking against mine before he tears himself free.

'Angelo, I—" I gasp, clenching on nothing as my hips arch up, frustrated at the sudden loss as I see him grab his cock frantically, his hand jerking along the slick length. He lets out a near-pained groan as I see the tip flare, and then his hand clenches the blankets next to me as thick, hot cum splashes over my belly, Angelo's moans of pleasure filling the air between us as he comes.

I stare at him, confused. 'What—"

'You're not on any kind of birth control," he murmurs shakily, his hand still stuttering along his cock as he squeezes out the last drops of cum, the sticky fluid splashed over my skin. I feel another throb of pleasure, seeing it painted over me like that—it makes me feel as if he's marked me as his, like I belong to him. 'And we didn't use a condom."

His hand drops away from his cock, and he gets up, a little shaky as he walks to the bathroom. I lay there, stunned, unsure how I feel about it. I'd expected him to come inside of me. I know that the tears pricking at the corners of my eyes are just a reaction to so much happening all at once—to all the sensation and pleasure and everything else I've felt tonight—but I can't help but feel a little disappointed.Doesn't he want to get me pregnant? Isn't that what husbands always want? Is it me?

I don't want to ask and ruin the mood. Especially not when Angelo comes out of the bathroom a moment later, a warm, damp washcloth in his hand. Gently, he cleans up the mess on my stomach, stroking the washcloth between my thighs and over my sensitive folds. I let out a soft sigh of pleasure at the feeling of the warmth on my tender flesh, and when he tosses the cloth into the laundry and slips back into bed with me, I immediately turn towards him.

'Come here,bellisima," he murmurs, tugging the covers of the bed down and pulling me against his chest. 'Are you alright?"

I nod, blinking back the tears. I don't want him to see them—I don't want him to think I'm sad. I'm not—I feel a tangle of emotions, all of it feeling new and uncertain and a little overwhelming, but none of it is sadness.

I have the urge to tell him I love him, but I bite it back. I want him to say it first—and I want to be sure of it, when I do. 'That was amazing," I whisper instead, burrowing against him as his hand lightly strokes my upper back. 'I want to do it again."

Angelo chuckles. 'We will," he promises. 'But right now, you need to sleep, sweetheart." He rolls over a little, reaching for a glass of water on the bedside table. 'Here. Drink this, and then sleep."

I want to argue—to tell him I'm not tired, to draw out the evening a little longer. But I quickly realize that's not true. I'm exhausted, the events of the day and everything that happened tonight rushing in like a tidal wave, and it's hard to believe that my visit to the college was this morning. It feels like so much has happened since then.

My eyes are already closing when Angelo takes the glass of water out of my hand. And before I know it, nestled in the circle of his arms, I'm fast asleep.