Page 128 of Ruin Me With Lies

“Fucking perfect,” he whispers hoarsely when my breasts are fully bare, tucking the neckline beneath them.“Perfect.”

And then his hands are on them, squeezing, twisting, flicking, fondling.Worshiping.

My nipples are achingly tight, my stomach twisting into delicious knots, my clit swollen and heavy.My whole bodyalivein every way.

Stefano is in his own world, having a private party with my girls.While I’m onfire.Losing my damn mind.

My hips undulate, chasing friction against my throbbing clit.

“Rosy pink lips…rosy pink nipples…” he muses, almost to himself.“I bet your…”

Abruptly, he sits up, grips my waist, and flips us so I’m on my back and he’s between my thighs.His head lowers and I exhale a light gasp when he sucks a nipple into his mouth.

“Ohhh, yes,” I breathe in a rush.

He cups my breasts, pushing them together as his mouth moves between them.Licking, teasing, nipping.Every motion slow, sure, deliberate.Such careful attention.Such tenderness.I’m…caught off guard by it.

Never did I imagined he could be this soft, this gentle.I could melt into this couch.All this does is make me want himmore.

He starts moving down my body, pushing my dress up as he goes, scattering kisses across my stomach, fueling the fire already unfurling beneath my skin.

Mind foggy with want, withneed, I writhe beneath him, desperate moans escaping me.

As his tongue swirls in my navel, his hand slips between my thighs, rubbing over my satin panties, soaked and clinging to my swollen flesh.Massaging me through the fabric, he shifts up my body until his lips are hovering just above mine.

“Can I kiss you?”he asks in a low, hungry whisper.

I part my lips, theyeson the tip of my tongue, eager to surrender to him.But by asking me, he just gave me something back: a sliver of control.A choice.

As much as I want his mouth on mine, I’m going to hold on to that sliver for as long as I can.“No.”

Indignation sparks like embers in his eyes, nostrils flaring.“You guzzled down my cum like it’s fucking vodka, but you won’t let me kiss you?”

There.That’s the beauty of keeping some control, no matter how minuscule.To be able todothat to him.“I—”

He presses the heel of his palm against my pussy.

“Ohhh, dear god!Stefa—”

Applying pressure, he rubs slow, grinding circles, and a mortifying keen escapes my throat.“Mhhhm, ohhh, don’t stop…”

“Tell me I can kiss you,” he breathes, voice thick with restraint.“Say it.”

“N-no.”

He hates that.Hates the rejection.Hates me.

Abruptly, he stops and drops back onto his knees.Then, with slow purpose, he lowers the waistband of his pants until his rock-hard cock bobs out.Eyes locked on mine, he fists himself and begins stroking in long, lazy pulls.

Chest heaving, stomach twisting with desire, I lick my lips, watching him through the thick haze of lust.

For a moment, I think he’s going to punish me by denying me pleasure.But then he leans in and rubs the length of his cock over my soaked satin panties, dragging across my slit with every slow, deliberate glide.

“Yes, yes…please...”

As he flexes his hips, gliding back and forth against me, coating himself with my wetness, he grips my thighs and presses them as far apart as they’ll go.

Praise be I’m flexible, otherwise he would’ve broken me.