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“Say my name.”
His beautiful sex pulsed in my grip. Firmly under his spell, I whispered it, “Sebastian.”
He guided me up and down the hard column. His girth was impressive, a little too impressive. A pang of unease hit me as I began to wonder how my body would be able to accommodate him.
“Trust me.” He exhaled sharply as my grip tightened. Did I trust him? Inexplicably, I did. His other hand wrapped around my waist and coasted down to my rear end, caressing, petting. His eyes widened. “No underwear?”
I shook my head, too embarrassed to admit that I had been touching myself to the thought of him before I followed him out here. A trace of a knowing smile touched his sensual mouth. My thumb stroked across his swollen crown, pre-cum spreading across the velvety slit, while my other hand cradled the heavy weight of his sac and squeezed gently. His forehead furrowed and the muscles on his jaw pulsed.
“Stop. I’m too close,” he mumbled, his voice strained as he pried my fingers loose and kissed my palm.
Taking control, he sat on the flat surface of a large rock, and pulled me in between his spread legs, gripping my hips possessively. My fingers wove through his silky hair as his mouth found the tight, pink nipple pushing through the wet fabric of my nightshirt. I could feel the warmth of his tongue, the scrape of his teeth before he sucked hard. A jagged burst of energy shot to the apex of my thighs, and my toes curled.
I hardly noticed when he grabbed the hem of my nightshirt and pulled it up over my head, leaving me completely exposed to his unambiguously lusty stare. I thought the blanket of night would loosen me up. No such luck. Modesty returned in a heartbeat. I immediately became self-conscious, hiding my small breasts in my hands. It had been ages since anyone had seen me naked.
“Don’t,” he said, as my eyes met his. “Don’t take away my pleasure.”
His pleasure? I would’ve given him anything he asked for. He had the power to enslave me with one glance. I lowered my hands and he pulled me closer, spreading soft kisses on my breasts while his skilled fingers found the slickness between my legs. My nails dug into his shoulders while he played with me, stroking deeply until my legs threatened to buckle.
“Christ, you’re wet,” he muttered. “Say it, say you want me,” he commanded.
When I didn’t answer right away, his mouth feasted on my breasts, turning my body against me.
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?” His fingers stilled and I practically mewled.
“Yes, I want you,” I said impatiently, and his fingers mercifully resumed their wicked assault.
“Beg me.” Another command. I should have been annoyed, but I was too turned on to care.
“I beg you, Sebastian. Please. I want you, you know I want you.”
“Only me. Understand?”
As if anyone could even begin to compare.
“Yes! Yes!”
I was rapidly descending into a state of sexual insanity––if there is such a thing––trembling with need, blinded by lust. He petted and teased, tugged on my nipples with his sweet mouth in an orchestrated rhythm that had me on the verge of disintegrating. When he pulled his skilled fingers out, I heard myself scream, “Nooo!”
He placed me standing on top of the rock. Before I had time to think, his sweet mouth was on me again, tugging gently in a pulse, caressing me with his hot tongue. An intense spike of pleasure screamed through me and a veil of sweat broke out over every inch of my skin. Bouncing between pleasure and pain, I was on the verge of splintering apart.
“Don’t come yet,” he had the audacity to command while every muscle in my body tensed. His voice was gentle, even though this was no suggestion. I desperately wanted to please him so I fought it, biting the inside of my cheek in an effort to distract myself.
“Kneel.” I was suddenly standing on solid ground. His shirt fluttered down and I lowered myself in front of him without hesitation. He was circumcised––how American. The utter perfection of his manhood was mesmerizing; I couldn’t wait to worship it. I wanted to make him lose his mind like he was doing to me.
I grabbed the base firmly and heard a quick intake of breath. The muscles of his thighs turned to stone. He tasted clean, a trace of soap and his own unique male musk. I started sucking strongly on the sensitive tip, scraping gently with my teeth as my hand moved up and down with a slight turn of my wrist. He caressed my hair with such gentleness it was a credit to his superior control. His breathing grew rough, erratic. I pressed my tongue on the frenulum and his jaw locked, his brows pinching together in concentration. On a deep thrust, he slammed into the back of my throat and my eyes watered.
