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His hands went up to her hips, grabbing her ass and pulling her closer as he kissed her back, hard and fierce. She tugged his shirt out of his jeans and slid her hands underneath and dragged her nails down his chest with just enough pressure to skirt that line of too much and not enough. And while he plundered that sweet mouth of hers, one hand now holding the back of her head and the other cupping one of her pillowy tits, she released the button of his jeans and broke the kiss.
“Take off your sweater,” she demanded, pushing him back with a light shove that had his back against the stainless steel fridge. “Now, Cal.”
Like he was going to draw out getting naked. Okay, fine. Normally he might have done that, made her mindless with want, desperate for relief, but not tonight. He no sooner reached behind his head to grab his sweater when she hopped down from the counter. And by the time he’d pulled it over his head and let it fall to the floor, she was on her knees in front of him, shoving his jeans down low enough to free his cock.
“Aren’t you pretty?” she whispered as she wrapped her cool fingers around him and then swallowed him, sucking him in deep.
The heat of her mouth, the softness of her lips, the pressure from her tongue on the underside of his dick was so damn good. Fuck. That wasn’t even close. It was like having lightning shoot through him, power and electricity and flashes of yes-fucking-please obliterating everything else. He dropped his hand to her head, threading his fingers through her dark hair, pulling some of the silky strands loose from her braid, and she looked up at him, her gaze hazy with lust. The sight had his balls tightening.
Fuck, she looked good with his dick in her mouth.
She looked good pulling back and resting the tip of his cock on her bottom lip, licking the head as she jacked him slowly, taking him in again as her fingernails bit into his ass. The combination of all that pleasure while watching her had him right on the edge, ready to pump his hips and fuck that luscious mouth of hers until he came.
But he had other plans.
He fisted her thick braid and wrapped the length of it around his hand, tugging her mouth off of him. She let go but kept her hand wrapped around him, leisurely stroking him, a wicked smile curling her lips. She knew exactly how far she was pushing him, how hard he was fighting for control, and she loved dancing on that edge.
“Clothes off,” he said through gritted teeth, not trusting himself to even unclench his jaw.
She stood up, her hand still gripping him, and leaned in close, one hand braced against his chest. “All you had to do was ask.”
She got rid of her shirt and dropped it to the floor next to his sweater. Her hands went to her jeans, but she didn’t drag it out, and the second she stepped out of her jeans and panties, he picked her up and sat her down on the kitchen island, angling her so her head rested on the pile of napkins. She’d barely let out a gasp of pleased surprise before he dipped down, put her legs on his shoulders, and lowered his mouth to her juicy pussy. Her hands were in his hair and her thighs pressed close to his cheeks, as if he needed to be kept where he was when she tasted this fucking good, as she moaned her pleasure. She was so soft, so wet, so responsive to every flick and circle of his tongue that his cock was slick with pre-come from hearing her. God it was good, so fucking good. He reached down and squeezed his dick, needing to buy a few more minutes as her breathing changed, getting faster, more desperate as she got closer. His mouth and chin were wet with her, the scent of her pleasure surrounding him, as he followed her lead, speeding up, increasing the pressure, hitting the spot that made her yell out “fuck yes” again and again in a steady rhythm until she came hard and fast against his tongue.
The apocalypse could have started in his living room and he wouldn’t have noticed as he grabbed a condom from his wallet and rolled it on while watching Astrid come down. She had a blissed-out expression on her face, and her eyes were half closed as she caught her breath. Her legs were still wide open, her inner thighs pink from rubbing against his scruff, and she was tracing her fingertips over her stomach when she let out a soft sigh of satisfaction as if she’d reached the peak of her pleasure.
“Astrid,” he said, laying his palms on her thighs again and tracing lazy circles with his thumbs.
She made a noncommittal “huh” sound.
“Lift your hips up so I can fuck you.” He grabbed her hips, letting his fingers press against her perfect cushy ass, as soon as she complied. “That’s my good girl.”
Not bothering to take off his jeans, he just shoved them down a bit more and then held her at just the right angle and plunged into her, sinking balls-deep and staying there, taking in the feel of her tight, wet heat. Astrid tried to rock against him, but he tightened his grip, holding her firm. She let out a frustrated groan as her hands went to her bra-covered tits, cupping them.
He leaned down over her, his mouth only inches from the pink satin material. “Show me.”
She slipped free of the shoulder straps and pulled her tits out of the cups, holding them up as if making an offering. Big and lush and tipped with blush-colored nipples, they were as beautiful as the rest of her.
“Very nice,” he said, pulling his hips back and then thrusting forward, watching her tits jiggle with the force. “So very, very pretty, Astrid. Show me what you like.”
She rolled her nipples between her thumb and forefinger before pulling them taut, tugging the sensitive nubs until they turned a deep rose pink. Her lips were parted and her eyes closed as she continued to tease and torment herself while he fucked her hard and deep.
The sight was so damn hot. He couldn’t get enough. He wanted to know all the ways she got herself off. Fast. Slow. In the shower. A quick stress release. A long, slow finger fuck that soaked her sheets. He needed it all, but he’d have to take what he could get tonight.
“How do you like to rub your clit?”
She opened her eyes at his question and focused on him with a heady gaze as she slipped one hand down between her legs. Her fingers bumped up against him as he pumped into her, and he had to squeeze his ass cheeks together to keep from coming right then.
Fuck, he was close.
“You are so damn good,” he said, awed by watching her. “Fucking perfect.”
She circled her clit as she played with her breast, her core tightening around him, and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. So he gave in to the urge to look down, his gaze going from her finger on her clit to his cock sliding in and out of her tight entrance and back again. Speeding up, he rode along the edge needing to match her as she gripped him tighter and tighter until she came. After that, there was no holding back his orgasm. He pounded into her one last time, filling her completely and coming hard with a low, guttural groan.
It took him a minute or an hour or a few days, but he finally got it together enough to take a step back, pull his jeans back up, and get rid of the condom in the trash can next to the fridge.
Astrid sat up on the island as she scooped her tits up and put them back in her bra, grinning at him, and then looked pointedly at the pot of half-cooked pasta on the stove as if to say, “So much for no kitchen fucking.” Then she hopped down and pulled on her panties.
“We never ate,” he said.
