Sofia lets out a breathy laugh, but there’s a heat behind it, something burning in her silver eyes as she tugs at my shirt again. "You’re the only one still dressed, Salvatore. Doesn’t seem fair."
I chuckle but don’t make her wait. I lean back onto my knees, still between her legs, and grab the back of my shirt, pulling it over my head in one slow, unhurried movement. Her gaze rakes over me, shameless and hungry, and my cock twitches at the way she licks her lips, her breath coming faster.
Her hands immediately smooth over my chest, tracing the ridges of muscle, her nails dragging lightly over my abs, down lower.
"Better?" I ask, my voice darker now, thick with the way she’s looking at me.
She hums, tilting her head slightly. "Not quite."
Her fingers move lower, fingertips grazing the buckle of my belt. I watch her as she undoes it, her breath catching as she pulls it free, letting it drop to the floor.
I stay perfectly still, letting her work, letting her take control for just this moment. I want her to want this.
Her hands shake slightly as she undoes the button, lowers the zipper, but she doesn’t hesitate.
She pushes my pants down just enough, just enough to free me, and her eyes widen slightly as I spring free, hard, already aching for her.
"Jesus," she breathes.
I chuckle, reaching for her chin, tilting her face back up to mine. "You scared, baby?"
Her lips part, her cheeks flushing, but she shakes her head. "No," she whispers. "I just?—"
She exhales slowly, and I see it. That sliver of uncertainty. Not about what we’re doing, not about wanting me—but about what this means.
I lean down, pressing my forehead to hers, letting our breaths mix, letting her feel how steady I am.
"Look at me," I murmur.
She does.
Silver meets gold. Heat meets fire.
I cup her cheek, my thumb brushing over her flushed skin, my voice softer than before.
"You’re mine, sweetheart," I murmur. "And I’m yours. No rush. No pressure. Just us."
She swallows hard, her eyes shining with something I can’t name, something that steals my breath.
Then, slowly, she lifts her hips, silently asking for more.
And fuck—I lose myself.
I grip her thighs, spreading them wider beneath me, fitting myself between them, my body settling against hers perfectly, naturally, as if we were always meant to be here.
I reach between us, sliding the head of my cock through her slick heat, teasing her, feeling how drenched she already is for me.
She gasps, her fingers flying to my arms, gripping tight.
"Marco—"
I groan, dragging myself against her again, nudging her entrance, coating myself in her arousal.
"Easy, baby," I whisper. "Let me take my time with you."
I press a soft kiss to her cheek, her jaw, the corner of her lips.
"I want to feel every inch of you," I murmur against her skin. "Want you to feel me. All of me."
