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His hands shifted again, allowing his thumbs to graze over my hardened peaks, making a strobe-like breath shudder out of me.
"Couldn't have known you'd be so sensitive either," he added, voice getting lower, rougher in his need.
His hands moved suddenly, sinking in at my hips once again, pulling, lifting, shifting my weight off of him, his body turning as he pressed me down on the couch, his body moving over mine, knees planted - one on the very edge of the cushion, the other firmly placed between my legs, just close enough that if I shimmied down even the slightest bit, it would press against the pulsating need between my thighs.
His lips pressed into mine briefly, just long enough to make me want more before breaking away, tracing my jawline, teasing down the side of my neck, across my collarbone, down the center of my chest.
His tongue took over from there, gliding under each breast until my back was arched painfully off the cushions, until my fingers were curling desperately into his skin with enough force to guarantee little purple crescents to remind him of this moment even hours later.
Only when a choked, "Please," worked its way out of me did he finally turn his attentions upward, lips sealing over one of my nipples, sucking hard enough for my vision to go white with the intensity of feeling, my sex clenching so hard I thought I might come just from his mouth teasing me.
I was more prepared when he moved over my chest. Or so I thought. Until what I felt wasn't his lips closing over me, but his teeth sinking in with a white-hot heat that shot from the contact to between my legs, pushing me even closer to the edge, dangerously close. Close enough that I was sure one shimmy against his leg between my thighs would be all it would take.
His face shifted between my breasts again, moving an excruciatingly slow path downward, his tongue tracing the line of my waistband before he moved back upward, planting one arm to push himself up to look down at me as his other hand disappeared.
I didn't know its target until I felt his fingers press against my cleft through my pants.
I hadn't been wrong.
That was all it took.
Call it what you want.
Over-sensitivity to touch.
Being so long without it.
The real-life manifestation of a long-held fantasy.
But whatever the reason, the orgasm crashed through my system, unexpected, more intense than I was sure I had ever felt before, ripping a moan from somewhere deep inside as Kingston's eyes widened a little, his breath hissing out of him.
"Fuck." Surprise, desire, and pleasure mixed in that one word from somewhere deep within him as my legs moved up, wrapped around his lower back, pulled him closer.
His body pressed into me as his lips claimed mine again, but only one arm planted, the other curled around my lower back, lifting as he pressed back onto his knees, then found his feet, carrying me with him as he blindly made his way through his apartment.
The next sensation was my back hitting the mattress gently, was losing Kingston as he kneeled above me, hands sliding down my ribs, fingers snagging the waistbands of my pants and panties, pulling, urging me to lift up. It was a soft order I was happy to obey, planting my feet to bridge up, feeling the material glide over my hips, down my ass, over the tops of my thighs before I sank back down, pulling my knees to my chest so he could free me completely.
As he turned to toss the clothes to the floor, my body curled up, all-too-aware of the unfairness of our situation. My complete nudity, his clothed body.
Curled up to a seated position placed my head just barely over his waist, something we both seemed to realize at the same time, his head turning back, eyes getting even more hooded, his breath shaking out of his chest.
My hands planted at his hips to steady myself to slip my legs underneath me, pressing up on my knees, my head just under his as my hands slid down his sides, grabbing the edges of his tee, lifting it. He had to take over once it was too high for my reach, dragging off the barrier, tossing it carelessly to the side, gaze holding mine with an almost unnerving intensity.
Maybe it was partially out of cowardice, the way I broke the contact first. But there was no denying that there was also a hefty amount of curiosity, need to see him like he had gotten to see me.
My hands rose again, one settling at his hip, the other pressing into the center of his stomach, feeling the indents of his muscles that twitched slightly at my touch. My fingers sought a bold path downward, emboldened when his breath hissed out between his teeth.
