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“Just insulted and pinned me against the wall at a party, soaking my panties and pissing me off. Nothing much,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“Soaking your panties, you say?” His skillful fingers left the perfectly respectable region of my upper back. They moved lower, dipping to my waist, then to my inner thighs, where our bodies were separated only by clothing. His fingertips glided over the seam of my pants, and I shuddered, closing my eyes and focusing on the sensations.
“You enjoying this, honey?” he asked, his hands already moving to slip underneath my suit jacket, all to better lick and lavish the skin at the base of my neck. “Do you want me? Right here?”
I whimpered as he slipped the jacket off and dipped his fingers underneath the lacey edge of my bra. “Wha—What?” He brushed one slender finger over my nipple, flicking back and forth in a slow rhythm that drove me mad. I tried to reach behind me to unclasp my bra, but he bit down on my shoulder, making me whimper louder and still my movements.
“Stop it. When have I ever not given you what you need? Feel, love.” He bent to lick along my collarbone, and I trailed my hand up to his neck, feeling the soft strands of his hair underneath my fingers. I scratched his scalp and leaned closer, breathing in and smelling spicy peppermint and tart citrus apples. My other hand felt the smooth plains of his skin and his jumping pulse under my touch.
It matched mine, racing in time with our hearts as our need for each other built and my nipples pebbled under his skillful fingers. He finally skimmed his hands along my ribcage and to my back to unclasp my bra, and I groaned with relief when he kneaded both breasts with his large palms.
“You feel that?” he purred, nuzzling my hand on his neck. “The oneness? How it feels when our pulses sync? How good we go together.”
I nodded, tugging on his black shirt until it escaped the confines of his waistband. He broke away and pulled it over his head, then moved his fingers to the clasp and zipper of my suit pants, struggling to remove them while I stayed straddled on his lap. I rocked once against his throbbing cock, and he growled, reaching back and pinching my ass. I squeaked and struggled, but he dug his hands in and rocked into me again.
“I know you said you didn’t come here to fuck me, but will you let me up so I can take my pants off and ride your big cock, Simon?” I trailed wet kisses down his neck and across his trapezius, then flattened my tongue and ran it over his nipple. He threw his head back, his prominent Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.
“Is that what you want, honey? Me inside of you? My thick cock filling you so we can’t tell where I end, and you begin? Stand up, strip, then grasp the ballet barre in front of the mirror. You’re going to watch my cock stretch you,” Simon said, giving my ass a sharp slap that traveled straight to my core and had me scrambling to untangle our limbs and stand.
My world became the two of us—our hands, our bodies—as reflections of us filled the room, and we rushed to remove our clothes. This I knew. This I could control—how we were when we were naked and entwined, our bodies super-charged with lust. It was everything before and after that left me in emotional turmoil, confused, and angry.
His scorching hands inflicted heat flares against my skin as he yanked me forward, smashing my breasts against his stomach and claiming my lips, licking and sucking. My head lolled to the side as he pulled away and dropped to his knees, pressing a kiss to my belly, then the center of my pussy. He clamped one hand around each thigh and spread my legs, opening them further and breathing in deeply.
“God, you smell so fucking good. Want you to come on my tongue and drink you down before I fuck you. I need it, need to make you feel good, honey.”
His tongue darted out, and he swirled it around my clit, making me grip the back of his head and pull his hair hard. My lips trembled with his words. I wasn’t sure whether it was because he was that selfless of a lover or because he was with me, but he had to stop with the sweet words, even though they filled my heart with so much hope it made me physically ache. It was hard enough to disconnect from him now—if he kept this up, I’d never be able to. And I had to.
I tilted his head so he looked up at me with glistening lips, evidence of my arousal already visible. “Next time. Right now, I want to come on your cock.”
“Next time will be in a bed so I can have you all night long. Turn around and bend over so I can see that pretty pussy.”
I braced one hand on the ballet barre and widened my legs, using my other hand to spread my ass-cheek and grinned when I heard his intake of breath.
“You’re going to be the death of me. You know that, right?” he said, pressing a kiss between my shoulder blades and tracing his fingertips down my back. His ring and pointer finger rubbed along my seam while his thumb traced the rim of my puckered hole, smearing the wetness. I hissed with the sensation but pushed back, willing to take everything he’d give.
“Fuck, you like that? Want me to fill you everywhere?” Two digits plunged into my pussy, making me throw my head back with a desperate cry. His thumb pressed against my rear entrance, barely entering me, but giving me such a sense of fullness. I clenched around his fingers, knowing I wouldn’t last once I felt his cock. “Good. That’s so good, honey,” he practically cooed at me, his voice tender. My head darted forward, and I stared at him in the mirror. His pupils were blown, and his platinum hair hung over his forehead as all his attention focused between my legs.
“Look at me, Simon,” I begged, desperate to see his eyes. “I need you to fuck me.”
“Anything. I’ll give you anything you need.”
His fingers were gone, but before I could whine over the loss, I felt the first slide of his thick cock through my folds, and I let out a moan—something trembling and weak. It was an exquisite feeling, his hard, rigid cock gliding through the wetness of my pussy, while his thumb kept up shallow thrusts against my hole. He was a cruel tease, sending me into a tailspin and making me wiggle and push into him with want.
But then, finally—harshly—Simon removed his thumb and dug both hands into my hips, lining his cock with my entrance and pushing inside. He let out a strangled gasp, throwing his head back before pulling out a few inches and pressing back in. The slow drag of his cock in and out of my body had me gripping the ballet barre like a vice, my arms shaking with how good it felt.
“Please, Simon.” I didn’t know what I was asking for, but Simon picked up the pace, fucking me a little faster, a little harder, making my tits bounce with the movement.
Every shift of his body drew a soft cry from my mouth, and when one hand left my hip and his wicked thumb pressed against my tight hole again, I arched back, ready for him.
“Tell me how it feels,” he said, the words stunted and broken as he thrust into me, making me achingly full. His voice covered my arms in goosebumps, but I couldn’t focus on anything but the intensity of his eyes. Those steel-gray orbs were locked on mine, his lower lip pulled between his teeth and a deep furrow between his brows. This was more than the drag of his cock and the feel of his thumb. This was us—us—connecting on a level I’d never known and experiencing intimacy I didn’t think existed.
“It feels—”
Like love.
I tried to form words, to pour all the things that needed to be said into how his cock felt buried in my pussy, but they wouldn’t come. My head dropped forward as Simon gained speed, fucking me with torturous pulls out and deep thrusts in that left me dizzy with want.
His pace was turning erratic, along with his breathing, and I felt a deep flutter in my belly as Simon worked my body higher and higher.
