FATEFUL ITALIAN PASSION

By Olga GOA

Romance, New adult fiction

eBook

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114
2 mins

 

On hearing Veronica calling his name, he ended the attack immediately, waiting for wild passion from her. But understanding that Veronica wouldn’t take the first step because of her bashfulness, Milano grabbed her face and kissed her on her lips.
Oh! Veronica could not help but to get lost in her thought. It was a completely different kiss—manly, steady and not at all innocent like Veronica’s. She breathed heavily, unable to break away from Milano when his tongue opened her soft lips and slowly penetrated inside. Veronica wasn’t expecting such an onslaught, but she owned up, understanding that Milano was more experienced than her. After finding her little tongue in her mouth quickly, he began to touch it lightly with his own, and Veronica’s body trembled.
Was it really from the surging heating or such unusualness of the kiss? She felt it was both.
Milano kissed her lips harder, making them swell and become like pop-bud petals of a red rose—sweet and welcome. More than before, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to cease it unless someone poured a whole bucket of cold water over his head. But there was no one nearby; only the innocent Veronica, who was lying on top of his body, inflaming his desire a million times over.
Milano turned her on her back and got on top of her. Veronica moaned softly, knowing at that moment, nothing could stop them both. Passion raged on like fire. The flames of desire were devouring them.
Extending the torment on Veronica’s innocent body, Milano was surprised that she perceived his passionate kiss without any protest. She wasn’t aware of anything that had to do with sex, so he acted carefully as not to startle her. Veronica’s breasts were rising and falling while Milano’s fingers studied them, gently caressing the area of skin that hadn’t been closed by the bodice of her dress.
Veronica obeyed Milano, feeling like she was all his.
Nobody and nothing could save Veronica. And she didn’t wish to be saved. Why do it, when emotions rushed outside, wanting to absorb all of her?
Kissing Veronica’s lips very gently, Milano ran his finger from her chin to her firm breasts, caressing her with one hand. Veronica was a little embarrassed by his persistence, but she gave herself into his hands, guessing that Milano knew what to do. She froze when his fingers reached the sacred place on her body. Veronica closed her eyes, but then she understood that it wasn’t necessary to be afraid. She heard the languid, sexy voice of the Italian, “Relax, Nike. Don’t concentrate on anything.”
Veronica was surprised at the nickname he gave her. She tried to get answers from him about it, but she felt Milano’s fingers on her lips. “I called you Nike because you are like the winged goddess from the Greek mythology. A beautiful and soaring angel like her…”
His words shocked Veronica to the core, and she couldn’t help shedding a few tears. Tears rolled down her cheek, but Milano picked them up with his lips gently.
“Why are you crying?”
“For the reason that no one has ever told me such words,” she sniffed.
“But I said it and I always will. Hence it’s the truth.”
“Continue to caress me, please…” Veronica implored.
“You may regret it later. I cannot…” Milano felt that he was unlikely to be as sincere with another girl as he was with Veronica. He didn’t mislead or pressure her. He gave her a chance to choose for herself.
Veronica whispered something in his ear and kissed his bristly, dark cheek.
“What are you doing to me?” He croaked. Her lips had woken up a wolf in him.



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