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“Peyton.”
I tried to shrug off his touch, but his grip tightened to let me know who was in charge.
“Let me go, Rocky.”
“I can’t.”
My shoulders sagged and I wanted to lean into his touch, but I couldn’t. I refused. “This isn’t keeping our distance.”
“I know.” His tone was resigned, which wasn’t exactly what a girl wanted to hear.
“Good.” I yanked harder to release myself from his hold and he released me, but not for long. Before I could take another step, Rocky spun me around and pulled me close, so my chest pressed against his, so close I felt the rapid beating of his heart. “Rocky.”
“I know,” he said again, his voice low and filled with tension in those two, short syllables. “I fucking know.” And then his lips were on mine, hot and hard. The kiss was feverish and haunting, it stole my breath and forced me to cling to him.
My arms wrapped around Rocky’s wide shoulders, and I leaned back, accepting the hungry kiss and letting my tongue join the dance he was determined to lead. My heart pounded so fast I was sure I was about to die or simply float away, but Rocky’s strong arms banded around my waist and held me close to him, right up against his cock, long and thick and hard.
His kiss consumed me, and I knew I should have pushed him away and told him to take his big, beautiful cock somewhere else, but I couldn’t. His taste was better than the bourbon that coated my tongue, his touch more electric than a live wire. His hand slipped inside my shorts and my panties where he found me soaking wet and swollen, aching for his touch. “Rocky,” I moaned.
“You’re so fucking wet already,” he growled, sliding two thick fingers deep inside me. He plunged in and out of me, so thick and satisfying my orgasm crept up quickly. “You’re so fucking close, Peyton. I want you to come all over my fingers. Coat my hand in your juices.”
Oh fuck, why did he have to be so sexy when he talked dirty? My hips rolled and one hand gripped his wrist while I rode out the orgasm that hit like a lightning bolt. “Rocky,” I whimpered, and pressed my forehead against his chest. “Yes!” Before I could get myself and my emotions under control, Rocky stepped back, removing his fingers from my body and sticking them between his lips.
Then he stripped me out of my clothes and dropped to his knees, tossing my leg over his broad shoulders while his mouth devoured my pussy. He licked me and growled as if he was a starving man given a feast.
“Rocky,” I moaned, and gripped his head, my back against the wall at the bottom of the staircase. The way his tongue moved against me and then within me was too much. His touch was more intoxicating than any liquor and I never wanted it to end, but then his tongue curled around my clit and orgasm number two shot through me. I shook and quivered while his tongue slowed but never stopped, not even when he hooked his arms around my back and laid me on the stairs.
“I need you. Now.” His voice was firm and commanding, the need that dripped from his voice visceral.
“I’m here,” I said, my voice low and desperate. I wanted this too, how could I not? I knew I needed to keep my mind focused solely on the pleasure, but when he looked at me like that, like I was the only woman who could give him what he needed, it was too hard to keep things orgasm focused.
He was beautiful when he stripped out of his clothes, all big and scarred and tattooed. His thick cock sprang free, and he wrapped a big hand around it.
“You are so fucking beautiful, Peyton.” He stroked harder and leaned down towards me, resting one knee on the stairs between my naked thighs as his fist continued to pump against his shaft. “Enjoying the show?”
“You know I am,” I whispered, and he grinned wickedly, his free hand coming to rest on the stairs behind my head.
“Good.”
I couldn’t decide where to look, at his fist still working his thick cock, barely inches away from my bare pussy—or at his face, which was so handsome and rugged, intense and full of heat as his hazel eyes blazed down at me. “Because I want you to ride my cock. I’m sick of beating off to thoughts of those gorgeous tits bouncing in my face while you ride me.”
Holy fuck.
When he eased himself beside me on the stairs, I immediately straddled his lap, digging my toes into the carpeted steps for grip. I took his cock in one hand, teasing the tip with my opening until he was coated in my juices.
“You’re dripping,” he said, and gripped my hips.
“What can I say, you give good head.” He laughed and I squeezed his cock as I lowered myself into his thick length. “Fuck, you feel so good.” I needed him.
“Peyton.” My name fell from his lips on a roar and his head fell back for a brief moment, his eyes closed. When they opened, they burned pure gold and his hands slid from my hips to my tits, squeezing and kneading, pinching my nipples while I treated him like my own personal stallion, riding in long, hard strokes that pushed me closer and closer to orgasm number three.
“Fuck yes!” He was so thick and so hard, filling me perfectly. His cock touched me all around, every slide hit all my nerve endings, and sweat trickled down my spine. “Rocky.” His cock was perfect, like it was made just for me. No time for thoughts like that, I chided myself, and slammed my eyes shut, focusing on the way his cock pulsed inside of me, his sack tightening beneath my ass.
“Peyton, come for me, babe.” His voice was strained, like he wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer.
“My. Show.” I smiled at his narrow-eyed glare.
“Yeah? Then I guess I’ll have to make you come.” At first, I thought he would flip our positions and fuck me hard and fast, but that wasn’t Rocky’s style. He leaned forward, big hands cupping my tits while his lips and tongue and teeth scraped and sucked and laved my nipples. His mouth destroyed me, the sensations that coursed through my body intensified, and every time I slid down his length, I drew closer and closer to the edge.
