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“Something else,” he says and nothing more. I roll my eyes and flick a scrap of food at him, laughing when it hits his suit and he looks stunned. Like he has never once done anything silly at a dinner table before.
“C’mon, you’re the one who wants to fall in love here, and you can’t tell me more than that?” I tease him, licking the fork I used to flick the food at him teasingly. He is tense, but his face goes stoic.
“This is a designer suit,” he tells me, and his mouth turns up at one corner. I can’t tell if he is playing my game or not, but it’s all the encouragement I need.
“Oh, don’t tempt me,” I tell him as I climb up onto the table, crawling to him like a cat on the prowl. Then, I dangle my legs over the edge in front of him, my knees spread just a little. I only hesitate for a moment, long enough for him to wonder what the fuck I am about to do. See, this is the fun part about being me. I can scare the shit out of someone as much as I make them want me.
Then, I reach out and yank his tie so that he almost face plants into my lap, and I lean down to his face, licking my lips. My dress has food scraps all over it, and if anything, it is fuckin’ funny as hell.
“You have no idea what I can do to a designer suit,” I growl at him through gritted teeth. And then I prove it, his tie ripped to shreds in a moment. His eyes go wide at me, but even if he is shocked, as I slide down into his lap like a fuckin’ kiddie ride, I can feel I’ve made him hard. Maybe he has a dark side after all. It’s just hiding somewhere underneath all this judgmental bullshit.
Before he can protest or take over, I slide his jacket to the ground and rip out all the buttons on his vest and his button-down shirt so that it reveals what’s underneath. I look in his eyes and challenge him in silence, daring him to make me stop as I slide my fingers up and down his pecks and the manly patches of hair on his upper chest that diminish to a trail going all the way down to the top of his tailored slacks.
I grin as I let my nails trail back and forth across that line like a sinister dance. I am just waiting for him to tell me no. To get angry and judgmental again, but when I press into him a bit more, I can feel how damn hard he is against me and know that after all, he is still a man. The likelihood of him making me back down in this area is slim to none.
I hike up my dress to my waist while he watches before taking advantage of my practically standing position to unzip his pants, his cock already unfurled from his silk boxers. I waste no time rocking my body against him, forcing a tight moan out from his throat. I can tell by how tense he is, he didn’t mean to give it.
I lean to his ear and nibble the lobe before I whisper to him. “Let me show you a good time. Let go.”
He starts to relax a little as I buck into him, my thong soaked with my need for him. I am not much for foreplay, so I raise up again and move the string between us to the side before impaling myself with him, one glorious inch at a time. I can’t believe he was hiding this thick shaft under there and not even using it. What a waste.
His hands land on my hips as I thrust them over him, wanting him to fill me up and leave me bruised. It’s best when it’s like that. I lean my head back and sigh with the feeling, losing myself so much I don’t realize I am being so rough that the chair can’t take it. We fall to the ground as the leg breaks off, and I swear I can’t stop because I am so close to cumming, his head scraping along my G-spot, but he plucks me off of him and stands up, his cock still hard and covered in my arousal, and scoops me up. He carries me roughly into the bedroom and throws me down, and I know that my control is over now. At least as far as this.
For a moment, he stands over me and looks me up and down, and I wonder if he is going to leave me to my own devices despite his erection. But then he drops his pants and climbs onto the bed and reaches under my dress to slide it off. I look up at him, but he pushes me down slowly with one hand on my chest before sliding my thong off as well.
He lays over me, his head at my entrance. I grit my teeth and bite my lip, trying to control myself because I am curious at how he is going to handle this. I have shown him what I am like in charge, but now I want to know what he is going to be like if I pledge the rest of my life to him.
Surprisingly, as he slips in, he forces me to keep eye contact, his fingers grasping at my chin to hold it in place. It is the most exposed I have ever felt. It both makes me even wetter for him and scares the shit out of me.
He rocks his hips into me at a gentle rhythm, but his thrusts are rough. It’s this strange combination of hard and soft, and I don’t know what to make of it because I don’t know men like this. Men either like to be sucked off or they are brutal as they pound into me. This kind of intimacy is entirely unknown to me, and as I shake and shiver, my insides pulsing around him, I find that I crave even more.
