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Forget about being against me. I want him inside me.
The thought consumed me. It created a pronounced emptiness inside me that yearned to be filled, and Beckham had exactly what I wanted it to be filled with.
By the time the concert was over, I might as well have been pregnant.
By the time we got to Beckham’s place, I knew I wanted to get pregnant.
We didn’t even make it inside the front door before our bodies were pulled together again like magnets. The kiss was as loud and as memorable as the concert. He pushed me up against the wall, taking my breath away, his hard body pressed against mine, his tongue parting my lips and claiming every inch of my mouth. His hand dropped from my lower back and grabbed on my ass, squeezing and kneading, pushing me harder onto him.
“Oh fuck,” I said, breathless as the kiss broke. The streetlamp nearby cast an orange glow on the scene, but Beckham’s golden-green eyes seemed to have a light source of their own.
“Let’s get inside,” Beckham growled. He unlocked the door and walked in, his ass looking like a full-course meal in his jeans.
I didn’t waste any time. The second the door was closed, I was already taking off Beckham’s shirt. He stood there shirtless, with his jeans hanging low on his hips, a tuft of dark hair visible, making my mouth water. I took a moment to admire him. I let my eyes trace over his body, taking in every little inch, admiring how good he looked half-naked. He wasn’t ripped or anything like that, which I loved. He had a powerful chest and big arms that felt so good wrapped around me. His nipples were hard, and his jeans looked like they were about to rip apart.
He was the man of my dreams. No doubt about it.
I stepped forward, put my hands on his hips, feeling his warmth against my palms. I let my hands glide slowly up and down, over his nipples, through the soft silver chest hair, feeling the beat of his heart. Slowly, softly, I leaned up and kissed his neck. I kept kissing, slow and sensual, memorizing him with my lips, kissing the trace of his jaw, the rise of his shoulder, the slope of his chest. I kissed downward, following his treasure trail. Beckham let out a small moan as I kissed the tuft of hair that had my mouth watering.
I went down to my knees, holding on to Beckham’s legs for balance. I put myself eye level with Beckham’s bulge. It throbbed through the dark jeans. I looked up, smiling as our eyes locked. His fingers threaded through my hair as I leaned forward, rubbing the side of my face on him. I did the same with the other side of my face. Beckham opened his legs a little wider, his fingers holding on a little tighter. I continued to rub, loving the feeling of my man towering over me while I pressed my face between his legs.
“God damn, Oliver. You’re going to make me come without even taking my clothes off.”
“Oh really?” I smiled and reached around, grabbing Beckham’s ass in my hands and pulling him even harder onto my face. If he wanted to suffocate me with his crotch in that moment, I honestly would have died as one happy motherfucker.
The jeans had to be torn off, though. I stood on legs that already shook with anticipation. Before I could take off the last of Beckham’s clothes, he pulled me in for another kiss. Both of us were rock hard. I made sure he felt how hard I was, thrusting my hips forward.
I couldn’t take it. I had to feel his skin on mine, his heat with mine, his cock against mine.
I broke from the kiss and began tossing off my clothes, starting with my shirt. Beckham followed my lead and unzipped his jeans, dropping them down to his ankles and kicking them off. He was wearing the sexiest pair of bright red briefs I’d ever seen. He was already so hard, and his cock so big that half of it was hanging out from the side of his leg, dripping down a clear smear of precome onto his thigh.
I was hypnotized. I hadn’t even taken off my pants yet, but I just had to have a taste. I needed it.
I dropped back down to my knees and licked Beckham’s wet thigh, instantly tasting his salty sweet taste in my mouth. My tongue flicked over his still-leaking slit, his taste filling my every senses and causing a mass of fireworks to go off inside my chest.
With my hunger only growing more intense, I sucked on Beckham’s head, massaging his shaft through the thin fabric of his briefs, milking more of him onto my tongue. He groaned as I sucked, flicking my tongue over his sensitive slit, lapping up everything he gave me and wanting more.
