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Then the shirt was up and off him, showing off his strong chest, the hint of ink on his upper arms, the small scratches on the back of his neck from my fingers the night before.
My hand reached out, running over the red indentations. "Met this chick," he said, voice all gravel. "She couldn't keep her fucking hands off me," he added, smirk devilish.
"Really?" I asked, head tipped to the side, lower lip nabbed by my teeth. "Did she do this?" I asked, finger trailing down the center of his chest, moving across to circle his nipple before moving between the center of his abs, feeling my sex clench when the muscles tensed under my touch.
"Not quite," he answered, voice getting rougher still.
"Hmm. Did she do this?" I asked, hand moving down flat to cup his cock through his jeans, making a low, primal growl rip from his chest.
"You wanna play, baby?" he asked, and the promise in his wicked smile made my belly go liquid as he suddenly reached out, yanking the bottom of my shirt up and over my head, but then dragged it back down, pinning my arms at my sides. "I can play."
He turned me too fast for me to respond, pushing my entire upper body down against the counter, my sensitive nipples meeting the cold quartz with a whimper, then grinding his cock against my pussy and ass, the lightweight material of my pajama pants providing no barrier at all.
"How many times did you come last night thinking about me?" he asked, thrusting against me, then grinding against me in a circle, making his cock hit my clit perfectly. My choked whimper was not answer enough. "Tell me or this ends right now."
His cock pulled back and surged forward again, almost tripping me over the edge. "Four!" I cried out, desperate for more.
"And it still wasn't good enough, was it?" he asked, pulling back, fingers slipping just inside the waistband of my pants and panties, hooking, but not pulling down.
"No."
"Didn't think so," he agreed, snagging the material, and yanking down until I could step out of them, leaving me bare to him except for my little straight jacket of a t-shirt.
Never having been one for insecurity, shrugging off the conservative guilt I was raised in around the time I first touched a cock and had a hand touch my pussy, there wasn't even a thought to wanting to cover up. In fact, it was just the opposite. There was a strange, primal, raw urge for him to stare at me, to look at the round cheeks of my ass, to see the wet desire of my pussy. The urge was so strong that I felt myself tipping my butt up at him, inviting him to inspect what I was offering.
I wasn't surprised when he let out a low groan before his hand slapped down on my cheek, then his fingers kneaded in slightly.
His finger slid down and inward, teasing over my inner thigh, but careful not to give me any kind of relief from the torment.
"Tell me, did you think about me while I was inside?" he asked, one finger tracing the seam where my sex met my thigh, making me try to instinctively move my hips to get his touch to shift inward. But he wouldn't allow it. "Tell me," he demanded.
"Y... yes," I gasped out, my legs almost shaking from the frantic need between them.
"Doing this?" he asked, finger finally sliding up my slit and working circles around my clit, making my vision go white for a moment, sure I was going to come, certain there wasn't a force on Earth that could stop it.
Except him taking his finger away, that is.
"No," I whimpered, shoving my ass back toward him, completely shameless with the need for release.
"And maybe this too?" he suggested, and the next thing I knew I felt his hands holding my thighs apart as his tongue replaced his finger, sliding between my lips and rolling just around the outside of my clit, hinting at relief without offering any.
The tortured moan came from somewhere deep inside as my fingers spread, wanting to reach out, wanting to grab his head and hold him there, wanting contact, but being denied everything but captivity.
Just when I thought I couldn't take anymore, his lips closed around my clit, sucking it in strobes.
And I fucking shattered.
The orgasm ripped through my body with an intensity that made me struggle to keep on my own feet as he kept working me, kept intensifying it, dragging it out.
It wasn't until I felt completely wrung out that I felt the brush of his jeans against my ass before he reached down to snag the center of the back of my shirt, yanking me upward, making me arch my back, causing my breasts to press out, something he noticed because his other hand went there, squeezing one just to the point of pain before working the nipple in gentle circles.
