Abruptly, he pulled away. I sagged against the wall, immediately missing his touch. His taste.
“Take off your clothes,” he ordered. “And get on the bed.”
When I hesitated, he nearly growled at me.
“Now,” he demanded.
I hurried into the bedroom, shedding clothes as I went. Leaving everything on the floor, I climbed onto the king-sized bed. I was about to roll over, when Stefan’s voice stopped.
“No, stay there,” he told me. “Just like that.”
I was on my hands and knees, my ass in the air. It made me feel vulnerable and exposed, but I liked it. I wanted him to see me, see my body on display for him. I wanted him to touch me.
When he did, it was a gentle touch at my ankle, but still I jolted at the spark of his skin on mine. His hot palm slid up the back of my leg, coming up to rest on my ass. Then, without warning, he drew his hand back and slapped me hard, right there.
It stung, but it felt hot and tingling and good. I arched my back, wanting more.
Stefan slapped my ass again. I moaned.
“You like that?” he asked. “You like that, my filthy little kitty cat?”
I nodded, wanting him to do it again, wanting him to leave a mark. When he did, the sound of his hand against my ass echoed in our hotel room. I braced my hands on the bedspread, my fingers gripping the comforter.
His hand stroked my ass, soothing the sting, and then slipped down between my legs.
“You’re already so wet,” he said.
I was. I was wet for him. Aching for him. The way he touched me made me so hot. I looked back over my shoulder and saw that he was still fully dressed. That made me even hotter. I loved being naked while he was completely clothed, making him seem even more dominant. But I also loved feeling his body—his naked body—against mine.
I loved it all.
“Face forward,” he commanded.
I did as he said, and heard him undressing: the rustling of fabric, the sound of a zipper, the metallic clink of his belt on the floor. My heart was beating faster and faster, awaiting his next move. Then his body weight shifted to the bed. I remained still, not knowing what to do.
His body heat was behind me, his cock suddenly pressing against my lips. He traced the outline of my opening gently, and I rocked back against him, wanting more, but he pulled away.
“Please,” I whimpered.
“I’m going to fuck you when I’m ready to,” he told me. “And I’m going to fuck you until you can’t hold yourself up anymore.”
My mouth was dry, I wanted him so badly. I felt his hand move up my back, between my shoulder blades. He pushed down, forcing my face against the comforter, my ass shoved even higher in the air. Then I felt him notch his cock against my pussy again. I could feel my wetness starting to drip down my thigh.
Fisting my hair in one hand, he steadied my hip with the other.
“Are you ready for this cock?” he asked.
“Mmm hmm,” I murmured.
“Tell me you want it,” he said.
“I want it,” I panted. “I want your cock. Fuck me, please. Stefan—”
My begging was cut off as he split me open, thrusting inside me so hard and deep that we both moaned. Then he started pumping, slow and steady and then faster, picking up speed as we found our rhythm, my cries of pleasure muffled against the bed.
“You want this?” he rasped as his hips smacked against my ass.
I could only moan louder as his hand slipped around to touch my clit. He squeezed it between his fingers, the sensation so intense and so perfect that I almost came, my whole body shuddering beneath him.
