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Pulling my fingers free, I hold up my hand and show him my glistening arousal. He licks his lips, a soft groan rising up his chest. “Suck your fingers for me, baby. Taste yourself.”
I taste myself.
“Ah, yeah,” he groans. “Wrap that plump mouth around your fingers and imagine it’s my cock you're sucking. Can you taste me on your tongue, Princess?”
I let out a moan at the memory of sucking his dick, then pull my fingers free from my mouth, trailing the wetness down my chin and neck. “I want to taste you again,” I admit, taking a step towards him, but he shakes his head.
“Not yet. Stay where you are.”
“What do you want me to do now?” I ask, enjoying this game.
“I want you to strip, right the fuck now,” he demands, his hand moving beneath his clothes as he strokes his cock watching my every move.
“You’re being very demanding.”
“I know what I want.Strip.”
Keeping my eyes trained on him, I slowly undress, taking my time until I’m completely naked. My nipples pucker beneath his attention and my clit, she throbs, pulsing as he greedily drinks every inch of me in.
“Fucking beautiful,” he says, his fist moving a little faster now.
“I want to see you too,” I say, sitting back on the bed, resting against the headboard, goosebumps scattering over my skin from his attention. My legs drop open for him, my pussy lips spreading, giving him a clear view of my vagina.
It’s drenched.
For him.
“You got it, baby,” he replies roughly as he releases his cock and reaches up behind his head to pull off his t-shirt in that sexy way only men seem to be able to manage. With our eyes locked on each other, he kicks off his boots, removes his jeans and boxers and pulls off his socks. His cock bobs as he moves, thick and hard, the mushroom shaped head a deep angry red, a long thick vein running up the length.
“How’s that?”
“Just perfect,” I say, my breath becoming shallow as I allow my eyes to take in his broad shoulders, thick veiny arms, the sharp cut of his abs and his perfect v-muscle that points downwards to his impressive cock. Every inch of him is covered in tattoos that are stunning to look at and I take my time drinking in every single one. “You’re beautiful.”
He grins, swiping one hand through his thick, tousled hair whilst the other grips the base of his cock. “No one’s ever called me beautiful. I’m just Beast to them.”
“But you’re a beautiful one, and you're mine.”
“Yours,” he agrees, the thick silver band at his wrist glinting in the low light of the room as he moves his fist slowly to the tip of his cock. “My heart belongs to you. My cock is yours. You got me, baby. Every fucking piece of me. Forever.”
“Forever,” I repeat, my mouth parting as his thick thumb rubs over his slit and the piercing there. He groans, his gaze falling from my face to my pussy as I slowly slide my fingers through my folds.
“I want to see you finger-fuck yourself. I want to see you come.”
“Yes,” I hiss, relishing in his attention, in the way he watches me, just as I watch him. What we’re doing is so intimate, so erotic that everything is heightened. The way I feel right now is so different to how I felt when he fucked me on the table in my office.
That was raw, dirty, desperate. But this? This is fun, it’s sexy, it’s fulfilling a fantasy I’ve dreamed of over and over again for two years now.
“Talk to me, Princess. Tell me how much you want me,” he says, his voice strained, gruff. I meet his gaze, knowing exactly what needs to be said.
“Do you know how many times I’ve fantasised about you?” I ask, repeating the exact same words I spoke to him over two years ago in this very room.
“How many times?” he asks me, his gaze darkening as he fists his cock eagerly.
“So many times, Beast. I’ve touched myself like this hundreds of times imagining it was your thick fingers working me, your tongue tasting me, your cock—”
“Jesus fuck! How did I ever stay away from you?” he groans, his hips jerking as precum glistens on the tip of his dick.
“I’ve asked myself the same thing,” I reply roughly, excitement rippling through my bloodstream.
