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Each wicked little white-hot sensation detonated in her womb, clenching it, almost, just almost sending her hurtling into rapture. Just almost shooting her into the brilliant center of whatever sensation it was that had her aching every moment for one more chance to experience it again. His hands palmed her breasts, thumbs and forefingers gripped her nipples, tugged, sent fiery arcs of electrifying sensation traveling through her body and building the addiction for more.
She was grinding her pussy tighter against his lips as they surrounded her clit and sucked it inside his mouth, began to lash at it with the heat of his tongue.
“Casey—oh God, it’s good. So good.” Long, drawn out, the fractured moan left her lips and filled the air around them as she felt herself tightening, felt the pleasure whipping through her, building, threatening, pushing her to the very edge of pure, complete satisfaction.
Her hands tightened in his hair as his fingers tugged at her nipples, sending her rushing toward release.
Then he drew back.
He pulled her back from that edge. From the impending ecstasy.
“No!” Her eyes flared open, desperation and bemusement filling her cry as he came to his knees.
“You’ll come around my dick first,” he growled, moving over her, his hand gripping the hard shaft of his cock as he slid it against the wet folds between her thighs.
Her clit throbbed.
Sheila could feel her sex clenching, tightening, the muscles flexing instinctively as the broad, flared crest of his erection pressed against the entrance.
Fiery, throbbing, the heavy width began to stretch her flesh, forcing its way inside the slick, nerve-laden tissue as it stimulated and excited every cell that clasped it.
Sheila’s back arched as she lifted her knees to clasp his hips, moving beneath him, lifting to him as the short, surging strokes thrust him further inside her, penetrating her deeper and creating flames that seared her nerve endings and intoxicated her senses. It was like being immersed in a sensual storm. In a wave of such intense pleasure she was helpless against it.
She felt drunk on his touch. The inebriation was like being enfolded in a world so rich with color and sensation that she never wanted to leave it.
Each inward impalement burned and excited to the point that she was certain more pleasure would destroy her. Each time he pulled back she was certain she would die from the desertion. That she couldn’t bear being separated from him for even a second longer.
“Ah, babe,” he groaned as he sank deeper. The sound of the pleasure in his voice had her pussy clenching, creaming, nearly coming from the sheer excitement and explicit sexuality that filled that moment. His face tightened, a dark sensual appearance overtaking it as his cock surged inside her. A harsh moan passed his lips, pleasure filling the air as the thick, heavy flesh penetrated to the hilt.
Her nails dug into his shoulders. She couldn’t restrain the need to hold on to him. As he filled her, all she could do was tighten around him and lock him to her as closely as possible.
Her head tilted to the side as his head lowered, his lips finding her neck, caressing and nipping at the tender flesh. Sheila swore she lost her breath. She lost control.
Her pussy milked at his dick, the feel of that burn, that sensation that bordered pain and mixed with pleasure tearing through her
as she cried out his name. It threw her higher, tossing her into a maelstrom of nearing ecstasy and mindless pleasure.
His lips sucked and nipped at her neck.
His tongue licked.
She could feel sizzling arcs and fiery trails of rapture tearing at her senses.
She wanted.
She ached.
Then, he began moving faster, harder.
If the pleasure was too much to bear before, it became an agony of sensation then.
Drawing back, he paused, a grimace tightening his lips before he pushed forward, his hips leaning into her with a heavy thrust that buried him full length inside the too-sensitized flesh. Sheila gasped, crying his name as he began to ride her harder, each thrust stealing her breath.
Each time, every time, it was more intense than the last.
There was no way to hide her response or maintain her control.
She’d lost it the moment he’d touched her. She couldn’t seem to find a way to regain her balance, or to regain that part of her she could feel herself losing.
