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I’m trying to guess what sort of panties she opted for tonight and hoping it’s something delicate that I can rip off of her when she skates the dress down her hips, one side at a time. No strings, no waistband, nothing. She’s completely naked in my room, bare to me, smooth and sleek and so ready to be bent over the side of the bed and fucked into the mattress.
Fuck.
I didn’t expect that.
Claire lets the dress fall to her feet, where I imagine it pools around her. I can’t be bothered to find out, though, because there’s not a chance in hell I’m looking away from her right now to find out. She steps gingerly out of the pile at her feet, so that I can’t tell if she’s deliberately walking slow to torture me or if it’s the heels I never saw her take off that are inhibiting her speed.
She looks like she descended from the stars, a goddess from another plane, alive with confidence and grace. I sink against my headboard, my cock aching at the distance I’ve just put between us, and then beckon her forward, reassuring her that I want her to come to me. The slightest tinge of red flushes across her cheeks, and I think it’s embarrassment. But she has nothing to be embarrassed about—this is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, watching her become another person in front of me, not yet entirely uninhibited, but also needy enough to cast aside her pride.
She doesn’t come around the side of the bed, rising instead to the edge and then lifting her leg to climb over the footboard, offering me a brief glimpse of her slick core before getting both knees under her again. Her eyes flash up to mine, seeking confirmation. “Crawl to me.” I nod.
I wish my bed was bigger, so that the image of her crawling toward me, her eyes stuck on mine, could last just a bit longer. It ends too quickly, but I can’t be sad about it as she crawls over me and my cock drags against her smooth skin so that she looms over me, looking down. She’s not pinned to the mattress, but she is also not in control. The look in her eyes tells me as much—she wants me to command her, to throw her around, to give her instruction. She wants to be controlled in the moment, and I want to own her, so who am I to complain?
“Ride my tongue.” I tell her, my hands skating up the length of her thighs until they come to rest on her ass.
She turns immediately purple, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d think she’s choking. She certainly looks like it when she opens and closes her mouth. “I… I can’t.”
“You can and you will.” I assure her, using my leverage on her ass to push her further up the bed. I hear her grip the headboard.
“Remy, I—” She’s pushing against me, trying to sink back down so that she can sit, but she’s no match for me.
“Claire.” I say. My tone brokers no room for argument. “I want you to ride my tongue. I want you to grind that pretty little pussy all over my face until you come so that I can taste you. Do you understand?”
She closes her eyes for a moment, torn between desire and whatever is holding her back here. She’s still poised over me so that I can see her glistening with need, but some fear is holding her back and with her head tilted down toward me, her face is cast in shadows so that I can’t read whatever is on her face.
“What if I crush you?”
It’s an irrational fear given that I could throw her off me with both hands tied behind my back, but I’m trying to get her out of her head, not give her more reasons to stay in it. “That would be an honorable death.”
For a moment, I think she’s going to slap me, but she laughs instead, and I decide to take things into my own hands. I sink lower on the mattress and lock her thighs on either side of my head, keeping her needy little pussy positioned right over my mouth. I hear the start of some sort of protest, but it fades quickly, turning into a sigh when I smooth my tongue over the rigid fold of her clit. She inches away from me just a little, resting more of her weight on the headboard, so I tighten my grip on the backs of her legs and bring her back to me.
She’s so ripe for the taking. I could slide into her right now without the slightest bit of resistance from her body, it’s so wet and achy for me. But that’s not what I want. Right now, I want to shatter her fucking world with the most intense orgasm she’s ever known and then, before she even has a chance to put herself back together, I’ll fuck her.
Above me, Claire is a beautiful sight. Her back is arched, trying to get some leverage from me, the sleek form of her body curving away from me, her head tossed back even though she’s gripping the headboard like it’s all that stands between her and the grave. And maybe it is, because if it wasn’t there, I may drive her into the wall with the force I’m about to unleash on her. She screams when I suck her clit into my mouth, mashing it against my tongue, and then promptly drops one hand to cover her mouth. I know she’s worried about someone hearing her, but right now, I want every fucking guest down there to hear her. I want the whole fucking world to know that I’m taking her right now, to hear the sounds of her pleasure. I want her to scream again, so I pull harder this time, taking her by surprise so that she has to grip my shoulder to keep from collapsing.
“Remy—” Her voice is a jagged little whisper, something between a moan and a plea for mercy. When we did this before, I was possessed with need, our mutual passion overflowing, our darkness spilling out around us, bleeding from one to the other so that the moment was tinged by desperation, a long-suffering flame that roared to life and then was promptly extinguished.
This is different. This time, I’m savoring her every sound, every touch, every lick.
I take my name as a plea for more and suck harder, grazing my teeth gently along the delicate bundle of nerves. “Let go, Claire.”
She whimpers, and I think she’s about to pull away from me again, so I snare her harder, showing her that she’s at my mercy. Unable to pull away, she eases back toward me, finally relaxing enough to give me what I want.
I fumble with the clasp on her shoe as she abandons the fight and finally drops her weight onto me, though I can tell she’s still gripping the headboard in case she needs the leverage. I push her shoes off, one at a time, and throw them across the room, not caring where they land. Now that she’s given up on resisting and her ankles are free, I grip them instead of her thighs and tug just enough to sink her deeper onto me.
Her moans crescendo, growing shorter and louder as I bring her closer to the edge. And then I stop all at once, her wet pussy weeping around me, the sweet scent of her need filling my lungs. I pull away just enough so that when she looks down at me in agonized bewilderment, she can see my wet lips form the command. “Grind.”
A little whimper escapes her, and then she does as she’s told, circling her hips over my eager tongue, using me to bring herself pleasure. I swipe a finger along her slit, collecting the slick proof of her arousal, and then push a finger inside of her. When she stops, I stop, too, waiting for her to remember that she’s supposed to be doing what I told her. Another whimper claws its way through her throat, and then she bears down on me more, her back arching and her nails digging into me as she finds her bliss on my tongue.
I know she’s right there when her groan turns into a scream, so I swirl my tongue in tandem with her movements and grip her ass with my free hand while she rides it out. Her motions slow, her breaths turn to pants, and she makes to swing her leg over me to join the other, but we’re not done.
I grip her tighter, making it clear that she’s not going anywhere, and double my efforts despite her protests, which all sound like my name and various groans of agonizing pleasure. “Rem—”
I pull away from her just enough to whisper into her beautiful pussy. “Give me another one.”
Claire shifts her weight onto the other arm, catching her grip on the headboard with her opposite hand. I haven’t given her a chance to answer, diving immediately back into my work and sliding another finger into the gloriously silky heat of her. “I—c—can’t—” Her pants are desperate, her attempt to free herself futile. She wants to be here as much as she does not, to feel the rush of another orgasm as much as she wants to be free of the pressure building in her.
“You can.” I say, though I’m not sure she can hear me since I’ve barely pulled my lips off of her to speak them before I suck her clit between my teeth again.
