Page 307 of First Comes Love


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“Do you want me to get you off now?” he asks bluntly, and his supreme confidence challenges me, reminding me why I’m here.

It’s just like Carter to flip the script; he’s no rookie. Now he’s got me eating out the palm of his hand, when it's supposed to be the other way around. There’s no way I’ll let him dominate me. No, I’m going to teach him that he’s not the only person with a little self-control.

“No,” I bend down so that his mouth can no longer reach my breast.

“Where are you going? I was having fun with those,” he jokes and I purse my lips together to refrain from returning the gesture.

“I bet you were,” I whisper in his ear.

“I haven’t gotten a command, but my cock is throbbing. Is it still off limits?” he whispers back, our faces so close I can feel his jaw flex as he speaks.

“Stroke it,” I whisper before biting his earlobe. Dragging my tongue down his neck, I feel his fist tap my ass cheeks, first slowly, as he strokes his throbbing member.

“Fuck!” he grunts as my teeth graze along his jaw, his hand now moving more quickly, causing my ass to shake violently with every collision.

“You better not cum,” I warn him before biting his earlobe harshly.

“Ow!” he yells, pulling my hair, bringing my neck to his mouth before lacing sloppy kisses from my shoulder to my ear.

“Ahhh!” I shriek, giggles taking over as he tickles and arouses me at the same time.

“You’re tryna make me cum,” he growls.

“Isn’t that the point?” I sass, leaning back.

“I’m ready whenever you are,” he holds both of his hands in the air.

Rising to my feet, I stand before him, my naked body pulsing with electric desire. Looking deep into his eyes, as he stares at me with those hooded blues, I bite my lip in anticipation of feeling his warm spunk all over my body.

“Do you want a drink?” I ask, motioning toward the champagne.

“Pour it over your body,” he says calmly, his right hand stroking his cock slowly.

“What?” I ask, perplexed.

“Take the bottle of champagne and pour it over your body. Then come dance on me. I wanna cum on your ass,” he says as if that explains it all.

After a brief contemplation, I take the bottle of champagne, holding it at chest level, and let the cool liquid cascade over my body. The sensation is quite refreshing, enjoyable even.

“Now get over here and make me cum with that perfect ass,” he sits back, stretching his hands over the headrest of the sofa. Turning so that my back is facing him, I bend my knees, lowering my body until I feel his stiff cock at the crack of my ass. Gosh, he feels so warm and heavy, I want to feel him inside of me. I want to make him cum so hard, and I know just how to do it.

Moving seductively, I arch my back, dancing slowly to the music, my ass bumping against his manhood with every movement. His hands are in my hair, as my body slides over him, thanks to the champagne lubrication.

“You’re a fucking tease,” he groans, his hand gripping my ass as he pulls me closer to him.

“Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet,” I smirk before reaching behind me to spread my ass cheeks so that his thick member can fit between like a hot dog in a bun.

“Mmm,” he hums his approval as I begin to slide up and down his shaft, my back arching as I balance my weight on my knees leaning forward.

“You said you wanted to cum on my ass right?” I ask over my shoulder, but he’s too enthralled to notice. His attention is focused on my ass shaking with every gyration back and forth, up and down, and in circular motions. He hardens between my cheeks, and just when I feel he might explode, I slow my pace, grinding against him sensually.

“Fuck! I was about to cum,” he growls and I smirk, happy he can’t see my face.

Again, I work him up, moving my ass cheeks on his stiffness as his breathing grows erratic, his breath hitting the back of my neck as he groans deeply. His orgasm is building again, and I’m still not going to let him cum. Reaching behind me, I squeeze my ass cheeks together before bouncing hard and fast on his length.

“Oh fuck! Just like that … I’m about to cum,” he groans, and I slow again.

“Are you fucking --,” he begins, and then he tugs my hair gently.

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