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She could feel the complete hunger brewing inside him, feel the tension tightening his muscles as it burned through her.
Before she could do more than gasp, he was rising, coming to his knees as he straddled her waist, his cock sliding between her breasts as he pushed them together to create a snug enclosure for the raging, burning flesh.
Sierra’s head lowered. Tucking her chin against her chest, she covered the very tip with her lips, licking at it with her tongue.
She hadn’t expected this. She knew he was wild sexually; if he had heard lies about her, then she had heard nothing less than blow-by-blow dissections of his sexual exploits from the lovers he had left behind. As though they thought by telling her, they could somehow make themselves feel better that they had lost him.
“Damn, your pretty lips. ” He pressed her breasts farther together, slid the head of his cock deeper between her lips, and groaned as she sucked it firmly.
The taste of him was like cinnamon and a mountain breeze. The slight salty male taste of pre-come met her lips. The essence of him exploded against her tongue, filled her senses, and amped the raging hunger higher than before.
“How fucking pretty,” he groaned. “Do you know what it does to me, Sierra, to see those pretty lips wrapped around my dick?”
She knew what the feel of it was doing to her. Sensuality, sexuality steamed around her, through her, until she felt as though she were burning alive.
His hips moved, the feel of his cock tunneling between her breasts, the head fucking into her mouth, and she could feel her juices flowing freely between her thighs.
The turn-on value was out the roof. Sierra’s stomach clenched tight as her tongue stroked over the tip of his cock, her lips parting over the wide head. She was starving for the taste of him, dying for the touch of him.
“Sierra, sweet baby. ” He pulled back before she could stop him, her back rising from the bed as she fought to taste him once again.
Moving down her body again, his lips went to her nipples, sucking them into his mouth, tonguing them, drawing at the tight, hardened buds and exciting the already sensitive nerve endings.
She needed this. She needed him.
His lips moved lower, calloused palms pushing her thighs apart as his tongue swiped through the narrow slit of her pussy. Electricity sizzled through her body. Pleasure raced through every nerve ending until she arched against his mouth, fighting for more sensation, for more touch.
“I want your tongue,” she moaned. “Inside me, John. I want your tongue inside me. ”
She wanted it all. She wanted every touch.
“John!” She cried out his name, her fists clenching in the sheets beneath her body as his tongue drove inside her.
Once buried in the sensitive channel of her pussy, he licked, slowly. His tongue flickered against tissue so sensitive it was nearly painful as she arched her hips, trying to drive his tongue deeper.
The licking strokes against the tender walls had her hips writhing against him. Each devastating thrust burned brighter inside her, pushing her higher.
John pushed her legs back, spreading them farther, lifting her pussy higher to allow his tongue to fuck inside her deeper, harder.
Sierra could feel her orgasm rising, brewing in her womb, tightening through her body. She was dying. She needed more—deeper, tighter. Her pussy tightened around his tongue reflexively as the strokes became harder.
“Don’t stop!” she cried out in protest as his head suddenly rose.
He knelt between her thighs, draped her legs over the tops of his, gripped his cock, and pressed it against the clenching opening of her pussy.
John stared down at the darkening of Sierra’s gray eyes, the innocent pleasure, the flush and uninhibited response, and for a second, the briefest moment, he remembered that night. Kneeling between her thighs, and then it was gone.
It was washed away by the heat of her juices touching the head of his cock, her pussy milking at it, attempting to draw it inside.
John pressed closer, his teeth clenching as his gaze lowered to where he was taking her, slowly. He wanted to take her slowly, wanted to feel every nuance of the pleasure racing through his body.
John felt the fist-tight heat enveloping him, felt her muscles caressing each particle of flesh as he pressed inside her.
Her hips arched to him, taking each inch with hungry desperation as her cries echoed around him.
He remembered this.
John shook his head, sweat dampening his body now as memory and reality began to converge.
