Salvatore Dalla Part 2

"Let me kiss you where you’ve never been kissed?" I didn't quite understand what she meant by that; was she so innocent as to believe that no one had ever given me oral sex? But if that was what she wanted, I would give it to her. Just thinking about her mouth wrapping around my member almost made me come like an inexperienced teenager.
"Yes, mia Amah, kiss me." I spin our bodies, positioning myself beneath her. Amapola continues her torturous task of undressing me, and when I am completely naked before her, she follows suit, and I watch as she sits on my lap in slow motion.
Our mouths touch again, but this time she sets the pace, slow and delicate, just like her, and I enjoy the feeling of having her this way, surrendered to me.
But once again surprising me, Amapola doesn’t take her mouth to my member as I expected; she simply stops and kisses my chest on the left side, right over the spot where I have the tattoo that symbolizes the Dalla Costa mafia, and instantly a heart I didn’t know I had starts beating erratically.
"What are you doing?" I ask, startled for the first time in my life.
"Kissing where no one has ever kissed, Salvatore, your heart. You can give me clothes, a house, safety, money, and many other things, but I would give it all up just to have your heart."
"Don't ask me for something I don't have, mia bella," I say, looking into her eyes.
"Yes, Salvatore, you do have it. I can see it and feel it; you just need to want to see it."
"Mia Amah," I say, caressing her face, a knot forming in my throat. How can she ask me for the only thing I cannot give her?
"Yes, Salvatore, your Amah, be mine too." Her eyes speak beyond her words; there I see her expectations, which perhaps I am not capable of fulfilling. So I give her what I have for the moment: my kisses, my body, and my devotion.
"You are perfect, Amapola," I say as I bring my mouth to her breasts, savoring each one slowly.
I hear her moan as my actions shift from slow to demanding, my right hand fingers firmly squeezing the nipple of her left breast while my lips torture the right with strong hickeys. Her back arches under my touch, but I want more; I want her complete surrender.

My fingers moved to her shaved pussy, caressing it with gentle touches that intensified over time, becoming more urgent. I saw Amapola squeeze her eyes shut, desire taking her completely, and I knew she would come on my fingers, but I didn’t want it to be that way.
I covered my member with the condom I had taken from my pants pocket and aligned it at her entrance. When she slowly slid down onto me, it felt as if the world had stopped spinning. Our gazes were locked, but it was Amapola's gesture that knocked me off my feet again; she brought her lips to my chest, leaving delicate kisses on the spot.
And defying everything I had ever thought in my life, I surrendered to Amapola like I had never done before. In that moment, as I thrust inside her, I gave her what she asked for; she was taking something from me that I couldn’t get back—my heart—and I simply... let her take it.
I spun our bodies again, positioning myself on top of her and thrusting hard, just as she had done with me. I wanted her to give me everything, beyond her submission and her body; I wanted her to give me her heart.
I moved my hands to her clit, stimulating it with circular motions, increasing the force of my thrusts inside her. I filled Amapola, and she was doing the same for me. When she finally came, squeezing my member with her walls, I followed her, looking into her eyes and silently promising that I would try to give her what she asked for.
I realized I had a heart, and Amapola was the only person worthy of having it.
When we recovered, we went upstairs, and after showering, we came down for dinner. Strangely, we felt even more connected. I was sure Angela noticed because I caught glimpses of a subtle smile on her lips now and then.
Unlike other nights, I fell asleep peacefully, holding the woman in my arms, feeling her scent calm me and bring me the peace that had been absent from my days before her.
Like the air in Palermo, Amapola is to me like a gentle breeze; she calms and soothes me, making me wish that this strange feeling of peace would last forever.