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He’s checking on me while I want to know how he feels.
He feels all right, his eyes telling me he is just as hungry for me as he was before. I am no different, tingles swirling between my legs when I pull up, push the sheet down, and prop myself on my hand, asking him things with my eyes.
He finally lets go of my drink and sets his on the nightstand.
I gulp down a mouthful, too much for sure, and place it next to his.
By now, I sit on my knees while he pivots in front of me. His hands come to my neck, and his fingers slide into my hair as he pulls closer.
My hands go to his thighs.
The fabric of his pants swishes beneath my fingers while I feel the tension in his muscles.
His eyes narrow with a smile when I move my hands in a well-synced motion, up the back of his thighs, his hard butt, and back, our eyes never disconnecting.
I relish what I see in his eyes, so I erase the space between us and press my bare chest against him.
He pushes his hips into me, his bulge against my chest, and that is my cue.
My hands move over his back and butt again, a smile clinging to my lips.
“You don’t want to leave…” he murmurs, his eyes slanted to my lips.
“You don’t want it either.”
“Hmm… We are late.”
“It didn’t matter before.”
He pins me with his eyes, biting the inside of his cheek.
It’s not like this is only my plan. I know how to read a man.
His fingers move into my hair, massaging my scalp. I can’t tell whether he knows how arousing his touch is, but it brings him pleasure as it gives me.
He hardens against my chest, his cheeks flushed, his gaze narrowed.
I feel the heat in him, all revved up like the car engines he likes to have roaring under his feet.
He looks drunk again. Drunk on me. And he is so far away from how drunk he could really be.
I bring my hand to his fly and mess with his belt, eager to touch him when he lowers his head to me so he can feel my famished lips.
We kiss slowly. Open mouth kisses. Arousing kisses. Kisses that could easily make me come.
“I want you to have fun later tonight…” he says against my lips while undoing his fly and reaching inside his boxers.
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll have a lot of fun,” I murmur.
Laughing, he brings his hard-on to my lips.
I tilt my head, part my lips, and run them down, moving my tongue against the veiny hard length and draping my arms around his hips.
His fingers thread through my hair again while I suck on his hard-on.
Moments later, I pull away from him and lie on my back.
“Come,” I say, smiling, tapping the mattress next to me, my back pressed into the pillow, my legs open, facing him.
