Ilaria is looking at me with so much emotion in her eyes and I know that we can fight all night but I don’t want that.

I want her.

“Principessa.” It earns me a smile, a rare bright smile that hits me right in the gut, “The only face you’ll be sitting on is mine.”

Her eyebrow arches up, a challenge as I bend down, picking her up, loving that Ilaria just goes with it, wrapping her legs around me as I carry her past the destroyed bedroom that I’d need to hire someone to clean because there’s bits of shattered glass everywhere. I can’t risk her getting hurt because of me.

I should punish Ilaria for her smart mouth and dumb games but I sit her on the countertop in the kitchen, standing between her thighs as she reaches out, stroking the shadow of a beard with a smirk on her face. She likes when I don’t shave, just enough scruff that it rubs her skin raw.

Ilaria likes everything a bit rough.

“I want you on your knees asking me for forgiveness.”

Mother of God.

The way she grabs my chin, looking at me like she is in charge, all confidence and desire. Desire for me.

I don’t have to ask her as I kneel down, my eyes looking at her. One of her hands sliding back to support herself, the other slipping in my hair, finding a curl to wrap her finger around as my lips kiss the inside of her thigh.

Such a soft whisper of a sigh escapes the lips she had told me to kneel for her with.

“I shouldn’t have left you, Principessa. I shouldn’t have let you leave the club. I shouldn’t have let you spend a night outside of my bed.”

I’m kissing up her skin as her legs tremble, soft gooseflesh bubbling up under each kiss until I’m kneeled in front of her core, looking up at her as I see the uncertainty in her eyes.

I could stop all of this right now but I don’t want to. Don’t think I have enough strength  to turn away from her.

Ilaria was right.

I am a brute. A jealous brute who needed to taste her and have her coming on my tongue so that I could feel more secure.

“I needed you.”

“I’m here now, principessa. I’m here to take care of all your needs now.”

My chin drags up her thighs watching the way she shivers. Ilaria is confident in her pleasure, and takes what she can without flinching away.

My lips kiss my thighs, rubbing my nose up along her leg until I’m kissing the puffy lips of her pussy as her breath catches and she makes this whimper that has a direct line to my cock.

Reaching down, adjusting myself as my tongue slips between her slit, meeting the wet heat of her body.

Christ.

She tastes like the champagne bubbles of her scent: sweet and rich.

Intoxicating.

I want to get drunk off her.

Pushing her thighs open further, I wrap my arms around them tugging her closer as she gasps out, more balanced on my face than she is on the countertop.

“Dante.”

She says my name so softly, I look up to check on her. Seeing my Ilaria, the woman I am going to marry in just over a week, and this possessive need to make her cum pulls me.

I’m suddenly over aware that I’m the first person to be tasting her sweet liquor. The first person getting drunk off this pretty pussy of hers. And my cock aches in that possessive need to claim all over.

My tongue pushes through her folds, lips finding her swollen nub. Sliding my tongue around it. Feeling her shiver from the impact. Ilaria makes a sound that has me groaning out, ready to explode at her loud display of pleasure.

So wet against my lips, Ilaria’s cum is making a mess of me as she rolls her hips, dropping her full weight off the counter and on my face. My hands gripping her ass as she tugs at my hair. She is always so in control until she’s in pleasure. That’s when she gives herself to me fully. This is where she gives me the control I crave.

I pray every prayer I know that I don’t cum in my pants again.

“Dante. Dante. Fuck Dante.”

One of her hands slides from my hair, around her back to grip my hand as she squeezes it, holding me and wanting more contact with me.

I am a goner.

I never knew how badly I craved Ilaria’s love until this moment. How desperate I was to have her seek me out until now.

Just having her want to hold my hand as I devour her pussy makes my heart race.

Maybe she will fall in love with me like I have with her.

Slipping my tongue off her abused clit makes her whimper. Then that gasp as the top of my tongue slips over her folds, following down to her sweet tight hole.

I licked her opening, teasing so gently as she trembled against me. Her body shaking, all wound out and ready to cum

Rubbing my nose against her swollen nub as I tease her opening with my tongue makes Ilaria gasp, a curse on her lips gets swallowed before she pulls my hair, tugging me so she can look at me.

“Dante.”

Just my name as my principessa sits on her throne, one of her hands in mine as she squeezes it. Unspoken understanding between us.

She’s here with me. She’s mine. All mine.

“I’m not done with you.”

“You better not be done with me yet.” Her finger swipes at my lips, rubbing her thumb against the wetness she created and pressing it into her mouth as she sucks it off, “Fuck. Aren’t you lucky to get to taste me?”

Her confidence is so sexy that I can’t just keep her in the kitchen anymore.

I’m moving to the couch, tossing her down watching as her breasts bounce before I’m covering her with my body and kissing her so she can taste the sweetness on my lips.

Ilaria kisses me back, no longer upset but pushing at my clothes until I’m in nothing but my boxer briefs, the wet stains from where my precum leaking out catching her attention as her hand wraps around my length through the material, her thumb in the sticky wet spot of my cum.

Her fingers are in the waistband and she doesn’t ask permission before she pulls the briefs down and grips me with her soft hand.