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Now that I know…now that I know, I’m glad I didn’t before. The knowledge would have tormented me, would have driven me crazy every time I saw her.
But now that I do know, now that she’s right here on this bed with me, I’m determined to make it last. Determined to draw every ounce of pleasure from her that I can. Which is why I don’t slip a hand down the front of her pants yet, why I don’t move her body though every instinct I have is screaming at me to take, take, take.
Instead I stay where I am, kissing, licking, sucking at her breasts until sweat is dripping from both of us. Until our hips are thrusting desperately against each other and our breathing is so ragged that neither of us can fully catch our breath.
And still I take her, still I push her with each swipe of my tongue, each slide of my mouth over her skin. I can feel her need to come again. It’s in every trembling breath she takes and every arch of her hips against mine—vicious, undeniable, inescapable.
She’s moaning, now, begging, crying out again and again as I ride her through her pants, through my shorts. I can feel her heat even through the double layers of fabric and for a moment all I can think about is ripping it away and putting my mouth on her, my dick in her.
She must feel the same way because suddenly she’s chanting, “Take them off, take them off,” as she bucks and twist beneath me.
“Soon, baby,” I tell her as I slide a hand down her stomach. “I’ll take care of—”
“Now!” she all but screams, her fingers ripping at her pants in near hysteria. “Now, now, now.”
Fuck! Shit. Goddamn. I wanted to push her higher, wanted to give more to her—more pleasure, more sensation, more attention. But I misjudged how far gone she was and how little control I would have in the wake of her pleas. As she bucks and trembles against me, whatever control I’ve managed to hang on to slips right through my fingers.
I strip her roughly then, my hands tearing off her pants in an effort to get at her. Her eyes widen at the sound, her breath catching in her throat, and somehow that only turns me on more, making my blood boil and slamming me into a near frenzy that I can barely think through.
“Miles, please!” Tori wails, nearly incoherent as her head thrashes back and forth against the bed.
“Okay, baby, okay.” I don’t bother to take my shorts all the way off. Instead I just shove them out of the way with one hand while I fumble in the nightstand drawer for the box of condoms that the housekeeper always keeps stocked in the guest rooms.
In my haste, I tear it straight down the middle, scattering condoms across the bed like confetti.
Tori grabs one, tears it open with her teeth. And then she’s fitting it over the head of my cock and rolling it down, down, down in a hand-over-hand maneuver that has me gritting my teeth and fighting not to blow before I ever get inside her.
Once she’s done—after what feels like hours but is only seconds—I slip a finger into her pussy to make sure she’s ready for me. She’s wet and hot, her sex clenching around my finger like she’ll never let it go. She feels good, so fucking good, and for long seconds I stay like that, my finger thrusting inside her while my thumb rubs circles around her clit.
There’s a part of me that wants to get her off like this just so I can watch her face when she comes. But I’m too far gone, my body all but screaming at me for release.
Later, I promise myself as I reluctantly pull out. Later, I’ll make her come like this. Then I’ll make her come on my mouth, on my tongue. And then I’ll start all over again. But for now, I want—no, I need—to feel her come on my dick, her sex clenching around me as we both crash over the edge together.
Tori whimpers as I lift her legs over my arms, whimpers again as I line my cock up and start to push my way slowly, inexorably, inside her. She freezes when I’m about halfway in and I do, too, my eyes going to hers as I try to figure out if I’m hurting her. She’s so feisty most of the time, so much larger than life, that it’s easy to forget how small she really is. And how easily damaged.
“Okay?” I ask, doing my best to fight back the need clawing its way up my spine.
“Yes, yes, yes,” she chants, even as she lifts her hips against mine.
It’s all the encouragement I need, and I follow her need, thrusting forward, forward, forward, until I bottom out inside her.
“Okay?” I ask again, but she’s too far gone to answer as a second orgasm rolls through her.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. She’s clenching around me now, the silken muscles of her sex robbing me of my ability to think, to move, to so much as breathe. Because if I do, if I so much as thrust against her right now, I know I’ll be coming, too. And that’s not going to happen. I may want her more than I’ve ever wanted anyone in my life, but there is no way I’m going to blow my wad the second I get inside her. Not when I’ve waited this long to have her.
I slip a hand between us and stroke her though her climax, relishing the sounds she makes and the way her body rocks against mine, milking my dick again and again and again. And then, just as the last waves of her climax work their way through her and into me, I start to move.
Pulling back, I thrust into her again and again. Fucking her. Taking her. Claiming her in a way I never would have thought possible even twenty-four hours ago. She takes it all, takes all of me, with a few low and sexy moans and hands that clutch at my back, my hips, my ass.
With each thrust, I feel the heat building inside me. Feel myself getting closer to oblivion, closer to ecstasy. I try to hold on a little longer, try to stay right here—with Tori—for just a few moments more. But she wants me to let go at least as much as I want to hang on.
Wrapping her arms around my neck, she pulls my face down to hers and presses hot kisses to my cheek, my jaw, my lips. She skims her mouth down my throat, over my shoulder, across my pecs. Then she pulls my face even closer to hers as she whispers dirty, sexy things in my ear.
Things that make my dick throb and my balls draw up.
Things that make my brain fuzz out and my body bliss out.
Things that make me come.
