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His tongue traced beneath the line of my bra, making me arch up off the countertop, letting his fingers slip beneath to work the clasp. His hand moved between us, freeing my breasts of the material, then discarding it as well. One of his hands moved up to cup just under one of the swells almost reverently for a long second before it closed over it, and squeezed, while his mouth sucked my other nipple inside, working over it with excruciating circles. A low, pained whimper ripped its way from somewhere deep inside me, the sound desperate and pleading. He lifted, shifted, and took possession of my other nipple until the pressure on my lower belly became acutely painful, the need between my thighs downright intolerable, and I sank my hands into his hair, yanking hard until he lifted and sealed his lips over mine.
My greedy hands moved around his back, digging into the strong muscles of his shoulders. My legs lifted, closing around him, crossing over his lower back.
Then, unable to stop myself, too overcome with a need for release, my hips rose up to his, ground up into him, demanded fulfillment, showed him how much I needed him to make it up to me.
And while he would allow the grinding, even sinking down into me so his hard cock could press me right where I needed him, that was all he would give me as his teeth snagged my lower lip, biting. When a moan rushed out of me, his tongue moved forward to stroke over mine, to torment me even further.
Just when I thought I wouldn't be able to take it anymore, his hands slipped under my arched back, folding across, holding me tight as he straightened, pulling me with him as he stood up straight with me wrapped around him. One of his arms stayed across the middle of my back, the other drifted downward and sank into my ass, holding me to him as he started walking through the kitchen, then the living room.
My lips ripped from his, wanting to drive him even half as crazy as I was in that moment, as my lips, tongue, and teeth tormented his neck as he took the stairs to the second floor.
I couldn't tell you what the hallway looked like, where his master bedroom was located, what the flooring was, if there was an en suite. All I knew was his skin smelled like a hint of body wash and grill smoke, and his bare skin felt as overheated as my own did, and his breathing wasn't quite as controlled as I had thought, indicating his own tight grip on his control.
But I didn't want him in control.
I wanted him just as wild, as frantic, as desperate as I was.
So the second I felt my ass hit the bed, I released my hold of him and pushed off the bed, going down on my knees before him as I reached up for the waistband of his jeans. I freed him and reached to snag both his jeans and boxer briefs, my head tilting up to find him watching me, intense, heavy-lidded. And that, that need, that was all I needed as his pants fell, as his hard cock finally came into view. My hand moved up to stroke down the velvety soft, rigid length, stopping at the base as I leaned inward, teasingly moving my tongue over the head, watching his eyes. My sex tightened at the sound of his breath hissing out from between his lips, urging me on.
I sucked him in deep, hearing a ragged curse as I took him almost to the base, forcing my gag reflex to subside as my other hand moved out to gently stroke over his balls as I started working him in fast, unyielding strokes with both my hand and my mouth, using a twisting motion on each stroke inward.
There was a sharp, aching sensation in my scalp as his hand moved in and grabbed hard. His other hand went to my shoulder, crushing in hard enough to leave marks. Every bit of that intensity drove me faster, had me making wanton moaning noises as I sucked him, as I gave him even part of the need for release that I felt clawing deep in my belly.
"Fuck, baby," he growled, yanking hard on my hair to make me stop. There was a low, unhappy whimpering sound as his cock slid out of my mouth, finding perhaps for the first time ever how badly I wanted to give pleasure, maybe even more than I wanted to find any of my own. And he was taking that chance away from me. "You can have my cock anytime you want it, Scotti," he told me, his hand releasing my hair to run a finger across my jaw. "But it seems I missed out on dessert. And, well, I'm pretty fucking hungry still."
