Derio pulls me down into the grass with him and I let out a few giggles as I fall. He presses his finger to my lips to silence me and I take his finger in my mouth instead, sucking on it. He closes his eyes, his mouth parting, and I can see the pink of his tongue, wet inside. He’s so beautiful, especially when he’s turned on. He’s just this bronzed, dark-eyed, Italian sex machine.
“We are outside the holy grounds,” he whispers when I remove my finger. His own are busy pulling my shirt over my head. “But I don’t think the priest or nuns will look too kindly if we are caught.”
“Would it cause a local scandal?” I whisper back.
“Knowing this town and its gossips,” he says in a warning tone, “yes.”
I briefly remember Lenora and the shit that she was spreading. “I’ll be quiet if you’ll be quick. Take off your pants.”
“Take off your pants,” he retorts and then leans over, unzipping my jeans and pulling them and my underwear down and over my sandals. He lies back on the grass and takes a firm hold of my hips and pulls me onto him so I’m straddling him.
“World’s most perfect view,” he says, his voice laced with lust, his gaze heavy as he watches me above him. “Better than the one out there.”
I reach down and bring his dick out of his pants, hot and thick in my hands, feeling a bit shy that I have to be totally naked while he gets to keep his clothes on. I mean, broad daylight isn’t exactly flattering, but from the hardness of his erection, I don’t think he’s too bothered by my flaws and pale skin. I have to remind myself that just moments ago he was telling me how perfect I was. I have to believe it if he believes it.
“At least take off your shirt,” I tell him, tugging up the hem of his shirt.
He smiles, conceding, and then pulls it off. I get up briefly and slide his pants and briefs down below his ass. I stroke his dick slowly, up and down. He bites his lip, watching me, his hands roaming up and down my thighs and waist, before he lowers his head back to the grass. I work him for a few minutes, feeling that sun on my back, the look of ecstasy on his face.
Finally he looks up, his eyes dizzy with lust, and says breathlessly, “Come over here.”
I raise my brow. Is he asking me to sit on his face? Because I’ll totally do that.
“Um,” I say. “How?”
“I’m ready for you but you’re not ready for me,” he says, lips curling into a smirk. “Come here.”
Okay, so I guess that is what he’s asking.
Continuing to straddle him, I edge myself forward until I’m pretty much sitting on his face. His hands grip my thighs.
“Perfect,” he says and then proceeds to lick me inside and out.
I don’t think I’ve ever felt so sexual and so free before in my life. The sun is bearing down on us, the air is thick with the smell of sex and sage and heat. Being out here, naked, in the wild grass and below the wavering oak, the limitless blue sea at my back, feels otherworldly, and every single sense I have is heightened. His eager mouth devours me and I lean my head back, as if I’m offering myself to him, to the sky, to the world. Never in a million years would I have felt so liberal, so decadent, so open but here and now, I feel the rest of my fears slip away. I feel everything.
Just when I’m about to come, he stops and pulls back. I look down at him, his mouth glistening.
“Now you are ready,” he says, voice throaty.
I think I’ve always been ready.
I scoot back and then slowly lower myself onto his still-hard cock, desperate to finish. I ride him, first at a leisurely pace, then faster as I feel the urgency of the moment. My breasts bounce wildly, and with strong hips he pumps upward into me as I push down, fever taking hold of us. Soon we’re on the edge, and as I look down at his face I see his head falling backward, his eyes scrunched shut, hissing my name through his teeth. Just the sight of him in such open pleasure triggers me and I come fast and hard, trying to ride out the waves of sharp and soothing orgasm while maintaining my balance.
After he comes, his nails digging into my hips, pumping himself into me, I relax and nearly collapse on him. We’re both slicked with sweat, both drowsy and sated. I want to tell him that was amazing, unforgettable, that it was so much more than just sex.
Much more.
But no words come. Instead, I press my lips into his neck and trail my fingers along his warm, damp skin. We lie like that for a few moments, just soaking each other in, until we hear voices from the church. We get up and slip our clothes back on in seconds flat and then hightail it out of there before anyone can discover us, discover what we’ve done.