"Enough," she cries, trying to roll away.
"No," I say, holding her in place.
I keep licking her, slower this time, gentler, taking care of her swollen flesh, cleaning up her juices.
"Enough," she whispers.
"Not yet," I say, my mouth still on her.
"Mario," she gasps.
Her hips buck against me helplessly as she tries to get away.
I keep licking.
"Stop," she begs.
"No."
"Please."
"No," I say, kissing her thigh.
"Why are you torturing me?"
"Because you love it," I say. "I want you to remember this moment. Remember how I tasted you and gave you what no one ever has before."
"It is too much," she whispers.
"No, it's not. You can take more than you think you can."
Then I lick her slowly, gently, until her breath slows, and she relaxes into the bed.
"There we are," I murmur. "Just relax. I've got you."
I kiss her thigh again.
"Mario," she whispers.
"I'm here, cara."
"Please."
"What is it?"
"Come here," she says, reaching for me.
"Okay."
I move over her, and she takes my face in her hands.
Her eyes are soft and filled with tears.
"Are you all right?" I ask, worried I pushed her too far.
"Yes," she whispers. "That was incredible."
"Yes, it was," I agree.