fifty-nine; darkest hours

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A U R O R A

"And she'll always get the best of me, the worst is yet to come. All the misery was necessary when we're deep in love."

. . .

A giggle escapes me when I feel butterfly kisses on my shoulder.

Peeling my eyelids open, I squeeze them shut when my eyes meet the bright sun. "Good morning," I hear from behind me, Riccardo's voice a low whisper.

With a smile, I roll over in bed and feel him hug me closer to him, my breasts squished between us.

I stretch myself out and then nuzzle my face in the crook of his neck.

"Morning," I mumble, eager to sleep some more.

"Wake up, darling," he whispers, presses a kiss on my temple.

The tips of his fingers trace my skin playfully, causing goosebumps to erupt over my body.

"I don't want to," I whine. "We have to get to work, though," he says with a scolding tone.

"Can't we skip?" I ask, knowing that we won't do that. I could always try, though.

A shiver runs down my spine when his fingertip skims over my nipple.

"We can't," he answers, his voice a tone lower. The wetness between my legs gets worse when his hand cups my breasts, softly squeezing and tugging on my nipple.

"I... I don't want to get up," I bring out breathlessly. "You have to, baby," he chuckles, finding this amusing as his hand travels south, finding the junction between my thighs.

My legs tremble when his finger slightly grazes over my clit, softly pressing down on it before sliding in between my wet lower lips.

"Riccardo..." I whimper and arch my back against his, hooking my leg over his hips and spreading my legs a bit, so his hand can continue to do its magic.

My fingers dig into the skin of his shoulders and my face is buried into his neck, where I moan and whimper out his name.

One, long finger slides in, curling slightly while his thumb rubs over my clit. I jolt at the feeling and moan out, gyrating my hips against his hand.

"Please," I breathe and clench around his finger as he withdraws and slides back in, adding a second finger.

He finds a rhythm, thrusting his fingers in and out of me, his fingers long enough to hit all the important spots inside of me.

He curls them again and strokes my walls, while his thumb presses down my clit. I throw my head back and move my hips against his hand.

"Do you want to come?" he asks, the sound of his voice adding to my pleasure. His voice is so soft and gentle, yet so demanding and deep.

"Yes," I moan and clench around his fingers, moving my hips rapidly while his thumb moves over my clit.

"You promise to be a good girl today?"

I nod frantically. "I promise," I mewl.

He hums and thrusts his fingers back in, deep.

"Come," he commands, and I do exactly that.

I still and come all over his fingers, feeling like I'm spasming against his body but don't care. It feels too good.

He takes his fingers out of me, and brings them up to his mouth, sucking my juices off of them. I clench my thighs together at the sight and fall back on the bed, already exhausted.

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