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"Baby, baby," he croaked. He pulled me up and tongued me deeply. His body was heated, his chest sweaty, and I felt warm all the way through. "You didn't have to do that."
He wiped a finger along the corner of my mouth. In the moonlight, his sapphire eyes looked black under his ridiculously long lashes.
"I wanted to." My tongue darted out to lick his thumb, and the corresponding groan he released shook his frame. I loved the noises he made—deep, low, gravelly. They made me feel powerful. I took and he gave, and it was different than we'd had before.
"It's my turn now." He rolled off the bed and lifted me in his arms. While I clung to him, he stripped off the navy coverlet and threw me on the bed. He knelt between my legs and pulled my panties off.
I trembled with excitement. This time he was ready to take.
And I wanted that.
#
FINN
The days following my dad's funeral flashed through my mind. A series of ill-advised hookups with random girls I didn't know. Waking up next to a complete stranger. Then came Winter, and my foundation shifted. As I knelt between her legs, having been the recipient of the best blow job ever given, I wanted to give back to her—not just an orgasm that blew her mind but something more. A certainty that this was different for me, that it meant something.
I took my time. I kissed her delicate ankles and stroked her firm calves and slender thighs. I avoided the one place I knew she desperately wanted touched. Her bare mound glistened from her earlier enjoyment. I hadn’t even realized how much I liked the waxed look until I’d tore down her panties and found it like a hidden treasure.
It was as if she presented me with a fetish I hadn't known I wanted. I'd come to the conclusion, though, that she was the fetish. I wanted her a hundred times a day, a thousand different ways.
I made my way to her outer hip and then rolled her over so I could kiss the single tattoo she had on her body. It was a heart with her parents’ names—Gary and Rhonda—inscribed inside. The design was intentionally jagged, as if a kid had cut it into the side of a tree.
I placed my lips on it and then rolled her back.
"Why is it a tattoo artist has only one tattoo?" I teased huskily, moving up to nibble on her stomach and then higher. She was small but perfectly shaped, with fat brown nipples and wide areolae that covered a good portion of her breasts’ golden skin. Her tits looked like sin and tasted better—sweet as candy.
"Tattoos are permanent. They have to mean something."
Her hands gripped my hair and held me tightly to her chest. I'd learned her nipples were very sensitive. Not every girl’s were, but I suspected I could get her off just sucking on them. I gave one a pinch, and she surged against me. I wanted to see her.
"Can I turn the light on?" I asked.
"Why?"
"Because you're hot, and I'm a visual guy." I rubbed my hand down her front, from sternum to pussy and then up again. She jerked and pressed into my palm. I wanted to see her flushed skin and the glitter in her dark brown eyes when she came.
"Can it be low?"
"It can." I reached over and covered her eyes and then flicked on my lamp, cycling through the three settings until the bulb turned dim. Her skin was the color of a golden oak or the ochre of leaves at the first turn of fall—beautiful, warm, and breathtaking. Some of it was from the sun, but some her natural coloring. Her black hair splayed across my white pillowcase. I took a mental picture: Winter on my snow-white sheets with her black hair, warm skin flushed pink and rosy. Her lips, reddened by my mouth, were parted slightly, and the coal black lashes fringing her eyes lay like lace on her cheeks.
I reached down and palmed her breasts. Her perky tits begg
ed to be sucked, and I obliged, taking each into my mouth until it was hard as a nail. She arched against the sheets, wanting more pressure, more tongue, more biting. More of everything, and I was thrilled as fuck to give it to her.
I hardened and then took myself in hand and rubbed the head of my throbbing dick over her smooth skin. Her eyes fluttered open and then fell shut again as I spread the moisture from her sopping pussy to her little clit. It was a dangerous risk I was taking, but the slick feel of her arousal on the sensitive head of my cock was too good. Just one second more, I told myself. One more pass. I wanted to sink in—balls deep—without a barrier, which I'd never done before. Always wrap it before you tap it had been my motto since I punched my v-card. Miraculously, some oxygen made it through to my big head, and I fumbled through the nightstand and covered myself with a rubber.
"You ready?" My voice sounded like I'd swallowed sandpaper.
"Yes, oh yes, Finn."
The thready sound of her desire vibrating through my name sawed at the chords of my self-control. "Hold on, sweetness." I pressed forward, and the slick channel of the hottest part of her volcano-hot body sucked me in. We both groaned as I entered. "You have the tightest pussy in all of mankind."
She choked out some response, but the thundering in my head made it hard to understand her. I only knew the clutch of her body as she welcomed me. I fell forward, bracing myself with a hand on either side of her head. "I'm sorry," I muttered into the damp skin of her neck. "I'm not going to last."
"Isokay," she slurred out and then wrapped her legs around me.
I lost it when her small heels dug into the small of my back, urging me forward. I thrust hard and repeatedly. In my head, I started reciting the alphabet backwards in a desperate attempt to stave off my own orgasm until she came. Under my body, she writhed and gasped, and everything she did only made me crazier.
