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I just want him.
In me, around me, possessing me.
He initially freezes, but the happy tingling in my body that comes from drinking at a stretch has me relaxed and compliant, so I kiss him, moving my lips against his still ones.
Just as I think this might be a one-sided thing, his hands slide around my waist. He grips me and pulls me onto him until I am straddling his lap.
I’ve not had a lover in a while, but, hazily, I think even the ones who have graced my bed pale in comparison to this man who’s running his hands up and down my back, his mouth moving against mine with a ravenous hunger that sparks my own.
The way his tongue pushes past my lips, the way he licks into my mouth, one hand going to my hair to grip it in a way that is firm and masterful, makes me moan into his mouth as he angles my head to suit him.
He sucks on my tongue in a way that makes me tremble, then he’s abandoning my mouth to deliver sharp bites to my jaw, my neck, trailing his lips over my skin as he sucks bruises on my neck. I can’t help but writhe in his grasp when his other hand cups my right breast.
I’m not wearing a bra because this is a strapless dress. When my nipple hardens, his sigh of appreciation ghosts over my throat, then a soft sound escapes me as he pinches it with his thumb and forefinger, his mouth still worshipping my skin.
His touch spreads fire across my body, as if he’s branding me, and I grow wetter when he licks the tops of my breasts, which are available for his viewing. There is something so filthy about the way he ravishes them that my mouth falls open and my back arches.
His hand releases its grip on my hair. I feel it trail lower and lower until he reaches the zipper.
The sound of the teeth dragging down is loud in its implications and finality.
We’re actually doing this, I think, drugged on this man’s kisses. And yet, I can’t bring myself to regret it.
“Are you sure, Lana?” His voice is hoarse as he forces me to meet his gaze, his fingers hovering over my newly exposed skin.
He’s trying to struggle with his morals, but I just dumped mine in the trash for tonight.
My dress has bunched at my waist, and I can feel the hard bulge in his pants against my panty-clad pussy. I rub against him in an attempt to find some relief.
His other hand now reaches for my hair, tangling in a painful grip, which dominant and yet makes me want to moan. His tone is harsh. “I want a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’. Don’t play with me.”
Feeling rather defiant, I rub against his straining cock again. This time, he growls, “Is that a ‘yes’?”
“If you’re not going to do something about this,” I breathe out, “I’ll stuff my own fingers in my pussy. I’ll let you watch, though,” I taunt.
His darkly possessive look should have me worried. Instead, it makes me purr, suddenly excited.
Then, with his second breath, he yanks my dress down until it’s now bunched up around my waist. His mouth is on one nipple while his thick fingers tease the other, making my heart race at the deliberate motions. My breath catches as he sucks vehemently, biting it gently until I’m gasping and begging in the same breath.
He laughs lightly. When he gives the other nipple the same treatment, I’m twisting in his lap, the sensations so new, so exhilarating. His hands are on my waist, holding me steady, then he’s pulling up my dress. I obediently lift up my arms so he can toss it behind him.
I rub against him, my panties the only stitch of clothing I’m wearing.
My hands are on his vest now, suddenly wanting to feel the skin underneath. I roughly unbutton his shirt, my hands slipping, and I feel frustrated at my own inability.
“Why are you wearing so many clothes?” I snap, both annoyed and aroused.
“Let me,” he says with a husky laugh, pushing my hands away.
Within seconds, his vest is off and discarded on the ground next to my dress. His shirt follows. Suddenly, I’m staring at a broad chest. I curl my hands in the crisp blond hair, my fingers trailing over his nipples and his stomach.
Feeling awfully bold, I lean down and lick the flat disk of his nipple, making him hiss and grab my hair again.
“Behave,” he orders, and I nearly come in my panties at the authority in his voice.
However, as always, I’m not inclined to listen, so I do it again. In a flash, I feel fingers pushing aside the piece of clothing that protects my most private part, two fingers sliding inside my soaked pussy, making me mewl at the intrusion.
I whimper when he scissors his fingers inside me.
