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He kisses a path to my navel, leaving a wet trail on the silk. I want him to take off the camisole, but at the same time kissing me through the silk drives me crazy. His tongue is wickedly hot yet teasingly out of reach, separated from my skin by the fabric.
When he grips the waistband of my jeans again, I lift my ass. He peels the legs of the jeans off my body and drops the garment on the floor.
Fixing his eyes on the matching lace panties of the underwear set, he drags his palms up my thighs. “Fuck.” He spreads my legs wide. “That’s so damn sexy.”
The compliment makes my body glow. He grips my thighs and drapes them over his shoulders. I’m worried I’ll hurt his wound, but he’s already buried his head between my thighs. He watches me as he drags his lips over the lace that covers my folds.
The look in his eyes is feverish, starving, but the work of his mouth is patient, savoring. When he grazes my clit with his teeth, I give up. I throw back my head and rest my weight on my elbows.
A tearing noise sounds. Air rushes over my wet folds.
His voice is thick with more approval. “You wax. A landing strip.” He traces my slit with a finger. “My favorite. So fucking pretty.”
The pad of his finger teases my clit. I don’t let thoughts get in the way. I don’t analyze what we’re doing or why it’s wrong. I simply ride the tide he’s building when he gently parts me and slips a digit inside.
“How many, baby doll?”
Incoherent, I lift my gaze back to him. “What?”
“How many men?”
“None that matters.”
My answer pleases him. He plunges deep, stroking a sensitive spot with his finger that makes me cry out.
“You want to come on my finger or on my cock?” he asks, giving a few shallow thrusts.
We’ve passed the point of no return. We both know it, but he’s still giving me the choice.
“Cock,” I say, my voice breathless.
His words sound raw. “My kind of girl.”
He withdraws his finger and takes his wallet from his back pocket. I’m spread in front of him, my knees still hooked over his shoulders as he takes out a condom and drops the wallet on the table. He’s looking at what’s on display, greedily ogling my nakedness, and I bask in the undivided attention. I soak up his male lust.
He makes quick work of working his jeans down his hips. He’s commando underneath. His cock is thick and long. It comes as no surprise that it’s perfectly shaped, straight and proud, just like the rest of him. The crest is smooth and bulbous, glistening with a drop of precum.
He’s still looking at my sex as he rolls the condom over his erection and strokes himself twice. Holding my hip in one hand, he takes the root of his cock in the other and rubs the head over my slit, using my arousal to lubricate him. My breath catches when he parts my folds gently with the broad head, wedging it just inside.
Only then does he lift his gaze to mine. The intensity of his stare makes the brown of his eyes seem darker. The weight of his lust bears down on me as he plunges forward and stretches me. The pleasure rips me in two. It comes like a bolt of lightning, stealing the air from my lungs. It tears and burns with a white-hot flash of ecstasy, setting me on fire and making me need more despite the bite of pain that’s inseparable from the pleasure.
His fingers dig into my hip as he pulls out until only the crest stretches me. Before he slips out completely, he slams back in. I moan at the force. It’s violent like my lust. He grips the back of my head, supporting my weight in a broad palm as he starts moving.
His thrusts are gentler, aimed at synchronizing our releases. Mine comes fast anyway, and when my inner muscles clench around him, he lets go of my head to rub a thumb over my clit. Everything contracts. My thighs quiver, and my body pulls tight. Release ripples through me in waves of heat.
He pushes deep, stills, and let’s go with a grunt. The grimace on his face tells me he’s coming hard. He pulses inside me, swelling even thicker, and collapses as if the climax has taken everything from him.
Too quickly, it’s over. Not that I can take more. I just don’t want it to end.
He lowers me onto the table, using his palm as a cushion for my head, and lets his upper body rest against mine. His breath is warm on my neck, his lips soft as he kisses that spot behind my ear where he’s uttered such a shocking and careless claim.
