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But he ignores me. His eyes turn a molten, dangerous blue, and I gulp. “You want me, and not him?”
I know what he’s asking, but I can’t answer truthfully because I don’t know. When he reads my indecision, he strokes his thumb over my sprinting pulse. “It’s simple. You either want me or you don’t.”
This is it. D-day. Time to face what I’ve been too afraid to confront all along. I’ll deal with the repercussions tomorrow because right now, right this second, I just want to be free. “I want…you. All of you.”
He’s on top of me before I can protest, not that I would because I want this as much as he does. We slam our bodies together, a union of chaos and madness. He drags me closer by the hips, while I wrap my hands around his nape, smashing my lips to his. The kiss is frantic, uncontrolled, it’s the inconvenient, messy, and reckless kind of love that I’ve been missing, craving since I first saw Saxon.
His mouth is wicked, soft and hard in all the right places as he kisses me with a ferocity I desperately need. I tug at his long strands of hair, fusing our lips together, needing to feel every part of him ingrained into my entire being. He grunts low, his tongue tangoing with mine, unbending to be in control as he cups my cheeks into his palms. But I surrender, happy to submit and be devoured.
His impressive length pushes between my legs, sending an uncontrollable quiver to my toes. I remember watching him jerk off in the shower, and how taboo I felt. I want to feel that again.
As he dominates my mouth, I pull at his belt buckle. It unclips, allowing me to snap open his button and thrust my hand inside of his jeans. I gasp when I feel he’s hard, hot, and ready for me, utterly exposed, as he’s not wearing any underwear. I don’t waste a second and wrap my hand around his long, torrid shaft and begin moving up and down. I’m never this sexually aggressive, but I feel if I don’t consume him this instant, I just may explode.
He growls, a hungry, primitive sound which spurs me on, giving me the confidence to stroke him faster and harder. His skin is like velvet, his arousal coating his thick head. “Oh, fuck,” he curses, tearing his mouth from mine and throwing back his head.
The veins in his neck are tensed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows deeply. With my hand still down his pants, I lunge up and suck over his pulse, biting and licking, desperate to leave a mark—to show the world he’s mine.
He cries out, his length pulsating in my palm—I hold the power and it’s a heady aphrodisiac. “I watched you,” I confess around sucking his throat.
“Watched what?” he forces out, bucking his hips in time with my riotous rhythm.
“In the shower. I watched you get yourself off.” I should feel ashamed for confessing such sins, but I don’t.
“Did you like to watch?”
“Yes,” I reply, feeling myself grow slick.
“Good,” he growls, quickly reaching for my hand and yanking it from his jeans.
I stagger back, confused, but he makes his intentions clear as he roughly grips the hem of my dress and tears it over my head and off my body. “Now it’s my turn to watch.”
I don’t question it because nothing has felt as good as this. I reach around and unclip my white lace bra. It falls to the ground a second later, my nipples hardening as his eyes devour me whole. I’m not big busted, but Saxon’s hum of approval erases my fears. He reaches out and cups my breast with trembling fingers, hissing and cursing. He fondles me until I’m mewling for more.
He gives me more, so much more as he bends down and sucks my pebbled nipple into his mouth while massaging my other breast with his hand. I feel so full, so alive; I don’t know how much longer I can endure this sweet torment.
My underwear is soaked, my core so needy and hot, every suck, lick, and pull is like a slap to my clit. When I can’t take it anymore, I boldly slip my hand between my legs and commence putting out the uncontrolled fire within me. My flesh is slick and ripe, ready to be picked and consumed.
I toss my head back, squeezing my eyes shut, focusing on his hands, mouth, and body as I work my fingers deeper and deeper within me. I’m so close, I can taste the inevitable, and I know when I do, I’ll be addicted to the taste.
Just as I rub over my center in a wide circle, Saxon secures my wrist and jerks my hand out from my underwear. I scream in protest because I was so, so close, but his deep, throaty chuckle reveals it’s only just begun.
“That’s my job,” he hums, drawing my hand to his lips and suckling my fingers. They’re coated with my arousal and I blush, embarrassed. “You taste incredible.” He continues lapping my fingers, not leaving an inch untouched.
This action alone has me rubbing my thighs together, so desperate to come, I’m ready to beg. With a possessed passion, I grip the lapels of his shirt and rip them apart, sending buttons scattering all over the barn. His lips coil, happy with my aggression.
My action sets us both off and before long, we are madly pulling and yanking at one another’s clothes, anxious to get them off. The moment we’re both naked, he lifts me up like I weigh no more than a feather, and carries me to a mountain of straw bales. He tosses me onto them, his eyes hungrily watching my breasts bounce up and down. I crawl backwards, the straw tickling my ass and thighs. The feel is a mixture between pleasure and pain.
I wait for him to climb on top of me, to connect us in a way I so desperately crave. But he doesn’t. He just stands and watches me. I subconsciously cover my chest, but he shakes his head, quickly leaning forward to expose myself to him.
“Reality is so much better than what I pictured it would be. You’re fucking beautiful, Lucy. I don’t deserve you.”
His heartfelt confession has me kneeling forward and wrapping an arm around his nape, drawing him on top of me. His weight is perfect, and we align like we were meant to be one. We kiss, but this kiss isn’t passion filled, it’s laced with love—a kiss which I’ve longed to share.
I’m ready, I want him, so I scissor my legs, needing to feel him inside of me. He dips a hand between us, running two fingers along my slippery opening. I mewl into his mouth, opening my legs wider, needing him to bring this home. And he does. He works a finger into me, us both crying out at the sensation.
He’s gentle, but he’s also impatient, like he’s reining in his passion because he wants to take it slow. But I don’t want slow. I just want him.
I bite his bottom lip while gripping his thick length, guiding him where I need him to be. He grunts when we touch, pulling his lips away to look into my eyes. I brush the hair from his brow, yearning to be lost in his sea green depths and never be found.
