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Authors: Cerise DeLand

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“Ah, my queen,” he whispered when she stood. “Wild black
curls and heavy lips,” he ground out. “I will honor them.”

Flowing with juices, she chuckled and swirled around to show
him her naked ass. She arched, lifting her heavy hair from her nape and
beckoning him over her shoulder.

He took a step toward her but halted. “You tease me well,
bella,
molta bene
. Show me more.”

Exulting in his approval, she spun around, wondering what
more
could satisfy him? But struck with an idea, she smiled at once, found a
chair and strolled toward it, her breasts bouncing in step with the sway of her
hips. She moved the chair to face him, sat on it and slid to the edge. Sinking
both her hands down to her labia, she trailed her fingers languidly through her
copious pussy curls and pulled her lips aside. She arched back, shivering in
want of him. Moaning, she slid one finger in her slit. But this was not enough.
Not him. She drew it out, placed it in her mouth and delicately licked off the
essence of her musk. “Help me?” she asked him in a feigned innocence.

“Not yet,
bella,”
he crooned, his nostrils flaring.

More.”

She sent him a look of delight. More, she could give him.
Did he have any idea what she would do? She faltered a second at the memory
that she’d done this only once with Tim—and later, though he had performed
well, he had scolded her for her impudence.

“Of course,” she purred now to this man, and rose to her
feet. In a dancer’s whorl, she ran her hands up through her damp pussy hair to
her waist, to her breasts and lifted them. She bent and kissed herself on each
point—then rejoiced as he groaned in need.

Triumphant that she could so move him, she raised one leg on
the chair and swung it open for him. “Let me show you what you are about to
have,” and at that, she delved both hands into her wet curls and spread her
hungry pussy lips wide. “How—” she trembled with her own need and the cool
night air on her cunt, “how do I look?”

“Very red,
cara
,” he whispered, stepped closer then
dropped to his knees.

She sank a finger inside her slick cunt and swirled it
around, drawing out with a succulent sound of her juices inviting him in.

“Creamy too. And I must taste you,” he demanded.

“Oh yes, now please,” she urged. “Eat me.”

With a loud shout of delight and two strong hands to her
inner thighs, he held her up and used deft fingers to spread her wider, part
her frothy curls away from his mouth and find her clit. Swirling her little
button with short licks of his tongue, he sent her stumbling backward. He
followed her like a beacon, grabbed her thighs and held her up. Then using his
fiercely talented tongue, he lapped up her juices in long, wide swathes from
the base of her cunt to her hairy apex. Feasting on every morsel of her puffy
lips with loud, sweet, succulent swipes of his tongue, he tended her throbbing
core like a man at his last meal. And oh,
my god
, did this man know how
to dine. Delicately, slowly, boldly, ravenously sucking her, nibbling her, kissing
her to madness that sent her to the edge.

But in a rush, he stood. “I must be naked. Do it,” he
commanded, arms out.

Trembling with raw need, mute with longing, she pushed the
soft black wool of his jacket from his chest to the floor. Then dealt with the
buttons of his shirt. But desire made her fingers clumsy and she whimpered in
frustration when, in urgency or pity, he seized her hands and pushed them to
his waistband. She unfastened the button, slid inside his trousers, darted down
inside his jock and cupped her hands around the large, hard package of cock and
balls she’d wanted from first sight of him.

“I must see you,” she pressed against him, her lips on his.

His breath mingled with hers. “Do what you wish, my queen.”

And in a flick of her hands, his underwear was dropping and
so was she, down to her knees. “You are huge,” she whispered in enchantment at
his blue-veined shaft. “How big are you?” she asked herself more than him as
she wrapped one hand around the base of his cock—and smiled when her fingers
could not meet.

He growled as he gripped her shoulders and drew her up to
him. “You will be well loved when I am inside you.”

“Show me,” she pleaded, her hand beginning to pump his heavy
member.

In one stroke of his leg, he pushed both of hers open,
removed her hand and in one smooth, glorious glide, he rammed himself home.

Impaled, she hung there on him. Her hair streaming down her
back, her neck arched, she grabbed air and reveled in the total physical
fulfillment she’d never had with Tim—or that silly boy in high school.
Delirious with joy, she squeezed Sergio’s cock with her vaginal muscles, when
suddenly he was gone. She was empty.

“No, no, come back!” Furious, she pummeled his chest.

He cursed, hoisted her up in the air and plunged her down once
more on his blunt rod. “Jesu, enough!” he shouted, and withdrew yet again. “We
need a bed.”

He scooped her high in his massive arms and strode like a
king with his bounty toward the hall—and his bedroom. There he lowered her like
a treasured prize tenderly to his bed, arranging her just so, hair fanned upon
the coverlet, arms out, legs wide.

“Listen to me, my luscious queen,” he demanded. “Once, we
will fuck. Fast. Hard. To give us both the relief we need. And then,” his
fingers were busy with removing the shirt and letting it drop to the floor, “we
will savor each other. As we wish. No rules. No boundaries. All imagination.
And pleasure.”

She licked her lips. “Please. I am so empty.” Her hands
drifted to her pussy where they possessed the mad desire to caress her clit and
give herself the hollow satisfaction she’d so often done for herself these past
three lonely years.

“Remove your hands,
mia dolce
,” he commanded her, his
eyes on her cunt. “That cat is mine.”

She did as she was told, but frisky and petulant, she
undulated on the bed. “She demands you pet her.”

“Later.” He climbed on the bed, loomed above her and
produced a long string of condoms. With two tears with his teeth, he had one
out and rolled it down his very red and impressive member. Bracing his arms, he
grunted, and in one swift hit, drove his magnificent rod right up to her hilt.
“First,” he surged upward to fill her with his power, his stunning thrusts, “I
will possess her.”

She clutched him to her, shifting her hips up to take his
wide girth in and feel the immense pounding claim of him. She clutched at the
bed linens, a tortured animal in heat.

He gripped her legs, forcing them back toward her chest and
pulling her ass up so that the backs of her thighs rested on his knees. And
then he fucked her with measured, molten precision. He pumped her like a man
who did this every day, every night. She bounced with his thrusts, straining
not to move on the bed lest she lose a second of this fierce magic.

But his fingers circled her tender clit—and beyond her
delirium she heard him say, “You will come, Regina, now.” His words were his
bond as his fingers swirled her clit, thumb and forefinger, driving her to
keening delight. She plucked at his arms, needing him more, more, more than she
imagined she could ever take. But then she’d never had a man this big, this
devoted to sex to her, to her rippling, pounding pleasure—and to his own. So
she came like the thunder and so did he.

After his last growling thrust, he bent down to claim her
mouth, his tongue dancing with hers in a harsh tango of bliss. His cock
withdrew, his fingers dipped inside her cunt and skimmed along her swollen
labia to her ass and her little sensitive hole. Suddenly, his fingers delved
inside her ass and his cock reclaimed her cunt. She arched upward at the
fullness of his possession, screaming for more of him.

“Yes, again,” he crooned to her, and rocked her hard and
fast to fervid ecstasy.

She pulsed in huge waves of pleasure as he met her in
madness and the two of them drifted back to earth in a meltdown that had them
entwined and panting in each other’s arms.

A minute passed, perhaps two or more, and he withdrew.
Peeling down the condom, he tied it off and rose to discard it in the bathroom
and wash his hands. She heard him tear another packet, pad back toward the bed
and sink down to her. There he pressed open her knees, settled himself between
them and combed his fingers through her pussy hair. “Such a wealth, my cat.” He
put his lips to her clit and nuzzled her. “
Mia dolce
, I must have more
of your sweetness.” He spread her lips wider, plumped up her lips and scraped
his teeth over the hood.

Jolted, she jerked up like lightning. She shot a hand down
to cover his mouth. “I am so sensitive, Sergio, I can hardly bear it.”

“But you want to.” He flicked her clit with tiny touches of
his tongue and inserted two fingers in her cunt. “Don’t you?”

“Oh yes.”

He nuzzled her. “You have made all this warm cream for me,
my queen. I would be less a man not to drink of you. I know you can take me again.
I will show you.”

And he did.

He fucked her long and hard and slowly with just his cock.
Then when she lolled back in ecstasy, he rolled her over, probed her little
hole with tender fingers before he ate her there like a man feasting on his
last meal. And when she screamed for release, he inserted the tip of his cock
there, promising, “I will fuck you like this every hour, my queen, first in
your cunt and then your sweet ass and you will see how you welcome more and
more of me.”

And so he did.

But after each, he would rise, remove the condom, wash his
cock and her pussy and then don another. Afterward, he would lift her from the
bed to languidly fuck her both ways in the shower, or on his knees above her in
the big whirlpool tub, or on the floor of the bedroom, towels and robes aswirl
beneath her to cushion his glorious thrusts and her oh-so-thrilling orgasms.

As dawn’s light crept through the gossamer drapes in his
suite, Reggie closed her eyes to nestle into his muscular body. And on her
lips, she knew was the biggest smile of her life. Because she refused to think
what lay beyond the dawn.

She had gotten what she wanted here. Fierce, dizzying,
bone-wearying sexual fulfillment with an imaginative lover.

She wouldn’t ask for more.

That wasn’t part of their agreement.

Chapter Two

 

“Thank goodness the wedding is not until four,” Reggie said
to him the next morning as she crossed the sitting room of his suite in search
of her thong and dress.

Sergio was rolling in the breakfast cart that room service
had just delivered. He had donned one of the resort’s white terrycloth robes
just as she had after their most recent shower together.

She picked up her thong from the floor and tucked it in her
robe pocket. “Wow, am I glad that my room is on the next floor down.” She
chuckled as she picked up her dress and shook it out. Struck by the image of
herself in the wall mirror, she bent over and noted that her face, free of
makeup, was flushed with sexual contentment. She grinned at herself and at
Sergio as he approached her. “I can take the service stairs and no one in my
family will see me in this.”

Sergio stood behind her and wound his arms around her waist.
In the mirror, Reg watched his heavy-lidded eyes grow black with desire as he
kissed her nape. “Must you dress now,
cara mia
?” His hands delved inside
the robe and his fingers began to toy with her bush. “I like to see this cat
purr.”

Reggie sighed as he petted her pussy. “You don’t have to see
her to know she purrs for you.”
Who was this risqué woman who spoke like
this?
She stared at herself, unsure.

He halted his caresses. “What,
bella
? What is the
matter?”

She opened her mouth to answer—and paused when she realized
her first inclination was to give him a platitude and a lie. But again the
truth of her lack of sexual sophistication reared up. She wasn’t used to such
forthrightness with a man. Not in broad daylight. Not even after such a wild
night naked in his arms.

Sergio pressed her back against him. “Trust to the moment,
Regina. Trust to me, whom you trusted all through the night.” He turned her
around. “Look at me. There. I love your beautiful big eyes. They say so much.”
His tone dropped to a whisper. “I love your smoky voice,
bella
. Talk to
me or I will never know how to love you better.”

“You melt my resistance.”

“Good.” He hugged her to him. “Melt into me, my darling.
Tell me the problem.”

“I’ve never talked like this.”

He blinked. “What do you mean?”

She swallowed her reluctance and her shyness. “My husband
and I never talked about…our bodies.”

He stared at her. “Not your hair?” His hand threaded into
her long black tresses and trailed down to where the curls covered her breasts.

She shook her head.

He palmed both breasts. “Not your pouting nipples?”

She inhaled as she looked down at his slender fingers pinching
her areolas through the nubby white cloth. “No.”

“He did not love them?”

“Oh, oh yes. He did. He just—” She glanced away, and there
in the silence she found the courage she had claimed last night when she’d come
here to make love with this man. She’d not been disappointed in Sergio as a
lover. She examined his handsome face now and admitted to herself she was not
being disappointed in him as a man, either.

And so she told him, “Tim liked sex but not enough to…” she
bit her lower lip, “talk about it. Or say he needed it or say he needed it more
than once or…”

“Or what?”

“Be creative.”

“I see.” Sergio put his warm lips to her forehead. “And so
last night was new for you.”

He was not asking, she noted, but merely needing to hear her
confirm it out loud.

“Yes, in many ways,” she sighed, and wrapped her arms around
him.

“And you liked it.” He pulled back to peer into her eyes.

She smiled into his. “I loved it. All of it.”

He grinned. “So did I, Regina.”

“I thought so,” she told him with the new bright delight of
a woman’s conviction that her lover had enjoyed her thoroughly.

“So then,” he stepped back toward the cart and smiled at
her, “we will continue.”

She nodded. Their time together would be short. Only today.
The wedding and the reception and dinner dance.

“Come. Dine, my darling.” He beckoned with the roll of his
fingers. “Let us enjoy what we have.”

The double entendre was not lost on her, so she laughed and
walked toward him.

“What have you ordered?” She surveyed the cart filled with
fruit, pastries and three silver-domed servers.

“Pineapple, yogurt, cereals and crepes.”

“Wonderful! I am starving.” She began to remove one of the
domes and he caught her hand.

“Remove the robe so I may dine in pleasure.”

She gazed up into his incomparable dark gaze. Such desire
she had never seen in a man’s eyes. “You are so demanding,” she praised him.
“And I cannot refuse you.” She undid the sash of her robe and shrugged. The
rough cloth brushed over her breasts, abrading her nipples and stimulating her
skin as it slid over her hips and legs to the floor. “And you, my dear man,
must also be naked.”

In a moment, he shrugged to let the robe fall to a chair
behind him.

And in the light of morning, Reggie saw him as she had not
really seen him last night. In her haste, in her ravenous desire for him, she
had noted the long, lean muscular tone of his body. But she had not been able
to admire the broad shoulders, the sculpted ripples of his pecs and abs, the
lean hollows of his loins, his powerful legs that had helped to pump ecstasy
through her so thoroughly last night. But oh, did she love the sight of that
one asset of his body that had given her the most pleasure.

Her gaze flicked up to his. He watched her intently,
unabashed, waiting.

She licked her lips. “You are quite beautiful,” she
whispered. “I did not take time to truly see last night.”

His mouth spread wide in humor. “I did not give you time.”

She stepped forward, her hands stroking from his shoulders
over his satin muscles to his dark rose nipples. “I will take it now.”

He sucked in air. Swallowed hard. And muttered something in
Italian.

“I translate that to mean,” she bent to circle one of his
nipples with her tongue, “you give me all the time I want now.”

He groaned, his hands tangling in her hair as she ministered
to his other nipple with her tongue and teeth.

Pleased with herself, powerful, she sank to her knees. She
had not imagined how huge a man could be. Had she really taken all of this
inside her?

She smiled. She had, she had. And now to measure his length
and girth as her cunt had done last night so many times, she cupped one hand
under his gigantic balls and wrapped the other around his cock. Her eyes
drifted closed. Last night had been no fantasy, no dream. He had filled her
with more man than she had ever known.

He was long. Red with prominent blue veins. He was erect.
Reaching upward toward his navel. He sprang from a tight thatch of midnight
curls. And he was dripping pre-cum. She reached to lick it off.

“Oh Jesu,” he growled.

And she sank onto him and loved him with her mouth and
tongue and licked him with an avid devotion she was only now discovering.
Sucking his hot satin skin, she paid attention to his slit. Tantalizing him
with the tip of her tongue, she would titillate him and then sink as far as she
could onto his wonderful shaft. To her delight, she could not reach his mound
of hair. But the need to lick his cock and his balls had her furiously trying
to figure out how to love him completely. Her efforts had him groaning at her
and trying to pull away. She grabbed his hand and held him in place as she
loved him with her mouth until she felt him come in her where she had never
before had a man’s seed.

When he had pulsed one last time, he stood still as she
rose. She went to the bathroom, rinsed with mouthwash and returned to him with
a serenity that was new and welcome.

But the expression on his face was one she’d never seen on a
man. He was quiet. Searching her face as if he were seeing beyond her skin into
her soul.

She paused.

She knew he had loved what she’d done for him and so she
strolled toward him and embraced him, kissing his throat.

His arms came around her like steel bands. “
Mia dolce
,”
he whispered to her ear, “you are a treasure.”

She wanted to ask if anyone had ever done that for him. But
that required a boldness she did not possess. She had no rights to his private
life before last night. If she knew, she would want more—and she knew that
knowledge would be dangerous to her peace of mind. Instead, she leaned back in
his arms and smiled. “Shall we have breakfast?”

His lips curved gently. His eyes caressed hers. “Come sit
with me.” Hands on her hips, he sat in a large chair with wooden arms. He
leaned forward to kiss her belly and then patted his thighs. “Sit to face me,
drape your legs under the arm rests.”

She threw back her head to laugh. “You are amazingly
inventive.”

He winked at her. “I want to see your eyes and mouth and
breasts and this black cat,” he grabbed her bush, “as we eat.”

She settled down upon him, wiggled to get comfortable, and
in the process made him laugh. “As long as I may enjoy you as well,” she said
as she ran her hands down his hard chest to his groin and nestled her fingers
into his neat little patch of curls.

He inhaled. “Do as you wish, my sweet. I am yours.” He took
a strawberry from the cart and held it before her mouth. “Open your talented
lips,
bella
.”

She did as she was told, ate and then he produced another
berry. He took a piece of pineapple, gave it to her, licked juice from her lips
and then broke off a piece of a croissant to pop into her mouth. She did the
same for him, licking crumbs from her fingers and his lower lip until she saw
that between her legs, his cock grew hungry too.

She stroked him from root to tip. “You have the stamina of a
ten men.” She grinned widely at him and made her eyes dance. “Ten men I’ve
never known existed.”

He laughed as well but his hand stilled hers. “Ten men I
would like to ensure you never meet.”

Her gaiety died. “We won’t discuss tomorrow, agreed?”

It was the first real demand she’d made of him. If he
interpreted her words to mean she was beginning to care for him too much, well,
then so be it. She was. She wouldn’t hide it. She would be honest. The same
honesty that would serve her well tomorrow when she would do without him for
the rest of her life.


Bella
, tomorrow we can—”

“No.” She tried to stand.

He seized her arms and pulled her down.

She looked at him, rampant sorrow for what she would lose
tomorrow making her bold. “I want you to make love to me once more before I
leave.” She took his penis and began to stroke him with greedy determination.

He seized her wrist. “Stop. I want you,” he ground out. “But
we have no more condoms.”

She cursed now—and began to rise again.

“No!” he shouted at her. “I thought this would happen. We do
need each other so badly.”

“The little store in the lobby.” She was grasping for a
solution, circling her thumb over the moist slit of his member. “You could call
and have them bring up a package.”

“All are sold. I asked.”

She rolled her head back and groaned. “Unbelievable.”

“But I have a solution if you let me try it,” he sounded
like a little boy wanting a treat he should not have.

Whatever his idea was, Reggie knew enough about his sexual
imagination now to suspect it would be racy and wonderful. “Tell me.”

He reached to the cart and lifted a silver dome. Inside was
a bowl of lemons.

She blinked. “I don’t understand.”

“A medieval practice.”

“Lemons?” Her eyes went wide.

“The juice is strong.”

His meaning sparked her own knowledge of foods and she murmured,
“Lemons are acidic.”

“We will use the juice to refresh us both.” He nodded toward
her cunt and his cock. “And we will use it to insure our enjoyment of each
other.”

Fear of pregnancy died against the joyous prospect of having
him inside her without the barrier of latex. “I do want you.” She stroked his
long hard length. “I want to feel your skin on mine.”

He grabbed her and kissed her, his hot mouth rough with
urgency. With deft fingers, he took one lemon cut it in two, squeezed juice
onto his fingers and rubbed her labia with the cool liquid. Up and down, up and
down, he took his time, licking his fingers one by one after he coated her.
Then he lifted his hand to her and let her lick her essence from his
fingertips. He squeezed another half with one strong twist of his wrist and the
juice from this he pushed up into her cunt, swirling her, stroking her, fucking
her with deft hard pumps. Moaning, she made him pause with a hand to his. Then
she squeezed a lemon herself and coated him with sure even strokes until she
was satisfied with her ministrations.

This time when she stood, he did not stop her but let her
lead him down to the floor.

“Come here and love me,” she beseeched him as she spread
herself for him on the carpet. “Completely bare to me.”
One last time.

He sat up on his haunches and reached toward the cart,
squeezed another lemon and coated her heavy lips with the cool juice once more.
“For you, my darling.” She undulated as he withdrew his fingers and replaced
them with the satin steel of his cock.

She reached her arms above her head. Closed her eyes and
rejoiced in the incomparable feel of him.

When she opened her eyes, his were closed and once more the
expression on his face was one she’d never imagined a man could wear. He was
bowed backward, open-mouthed—enchanted.

She wrapped him close. “My darling man, this is like nothing
I have ever felt.”

And when he had almost finished giving them both the sinful
delights of a slow, torrid fuck, he pulled out of her to spend his own last
moment of delight, then drew her close and whispered in her ear, “This is like
no one I have ever felt.”

BOOK: Mia Dolce
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