“Cazzo.” His favorite Italian curse escapes his lips.
Stone lowers his hand between the elastic of my shorts and cups my sex. I’m hot and wet for him. I need to touch him. All of him. I rake my short nails up his back, tugging at his shirt, wanting it off.
He inserts a finger into me, and I moan. He withdraws and I instantly miss him, my body pulsing for more. Stone whips off his shirt then returns to pleasuring me.
I close my eyes and lean my head against the wall, soaking up every sensation he gives me. I feel his mouth, hot and wet, on my breast, over my tank top and bra. I want that off as well but I don’t have the energy to remove it.
My hands need more. I slide them up and down his back, massaging his muscles, then lower them to his most perfect ass. I squeeze and pull him closer into me.
“Stone,” I beg.
In one quick move, he pushes my leg off him and drops to his knees, taking my shorts and panties with him. He swings my leg over his shoulder and makes a trail with his tongue from behind my knee up to my inner thigh.
My legs quiver. I’m not sure how much longer I can stand here on one leg. As if reading my thoughts—or maybe I speak them—he brings me down to a bench. My back is supported, and my ass hangs off the edge.
I lift my head in time to see him lower himself to the floor again and drape both my legs over his shoulders.
“Fuck, you’re wet.”
I pray it isn’t all sweat. I wasn’t too far into my workout when he arrived. However, I’m not fresh and clean like I was last night.
Stone nudges my legs further apart with his elbows and spreads me apart with his fingers before licking my core.
“Stone,” I call out. I could have orgasmed right then and there, but I work on holding it back, wanting to feel his fingers and tongue on me longer than the few seconds it takes to bring me to peak.
As if reading my mind again, he slows his pace and intensity, licking one side of me before moving to the next. His fingers make slow, sensual circles. My eyes roll back into my head as I clutch at his shoulders. I’m seriously going to die. I’m in heaven. I don’t want him to stop. Ever.
“This feels...so...oh my God.” I can’t contain it anymore. My body tightens and my thighs squeeze uncontrollably of their own accord. I can’t think about my hold on Stone or worry about possibly choking him because I’m riding high, surfing the waves of my orgasm.
His fingers and tongue continue to move, torturing me with pleasure until my convulsions finally slow.
My back is wet and sticky on the bench. My legs numb.
Stone gently sets my feet on the floor. “Oh my God, Stone. I can’t move.”
Even my eyes are tired, unable to open. I expect him to cover me with his body or pull me up and turn me over while he rams himself into me, but he doesn’t.
Slowly, my eyes open. He’s standing before me, his hands steepled over his mouth. This is out of character for him.
“What is it?”
“Nothing. Continue your workout.”
He turns and heads for the door. My legs wobble behind him. “Stone. What is it?”
“I—nothing. I need to go.”
I point at his erection—which would be pointing straight at me if his shorts weren’t restraining it. “Junior down here is saying otherwise. You don’t want to take care of that?”
Stone stares over my shoulder and runs his hand through his hair. Another out of character move.
“Not now.”
“Why?”
“I...” He won’t make eye contact with me.
“Got a better offer?” I’m not smug or confident in my sexual abilities but based on the impressive erection in his shorts, I’d say he’s completely turned on by me.