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I run my fingers through his wet strands, a content smile forming on his lips. His hard cock twitches against my stomach as I lean into him, the heat radiating off him making my mouth water. Pulling his hair back, he flexes his hips, pushing against me. Caressing his face I grin at him before my lips touch his.
He deepens the kiss, and his cock jerks against my pussy. A large hand palms my ass, squeezing hard. Our tongues find each other, and the taste of him makes me dizzy on the spot.
“You’re so beautiful,” he groans, his hands moving from my shoulders to hold my waist, his fingers curling around my sides. Navarone turns me around and holds me against his strong chest before opening my knees with his. I love the way the coarse hairs on his legs brush against my shaved ones.
He turns his head to look at me, holding my hand before kissing my palm, then each finger, never breaking eye contact. He takes one finger into his mouth, and the way he sucks on my index finger has my clit pulsing with an ache I’ve never experienced before. “Oh fuck,” I moan, and he chuckles.
“I’m going to explore every part of your body until I know every single tell that makes you come. I want all of you, babe.” His fingers move over my stomach, stopping above my pubic bone. With his other hand, he turns my chin toward his mouth. “But above everything else, I want you.”
He kisses me, his tongue dipping in, teasing me until my clit pulses. He groans when he glides his finger in, stroking my wetness, lingering there, making circles before moving up to my breast and the puckered cold peak. I push against his warm hand, loving the way he growls in my ear.
“This,” he says, while my head falls back. He pulls a little on my nipple and I whimper.
“I’m going to make you come like this one day,” he says, pinching again, the ache pushing me higher.
“I don’t know how.” My voice is trembling. He pulls again and I gasp, my clit twitching with anticipation.
“You have no idea about all the ways I can make you come. We’ve got all the time in the world.” His voice is thick with emotion before he kisses my forehead, and he hardens under me. Then his right hand disappears in the water. I try to close my legs, and he growls. “Don’t think so, babe.”
I lick my lips, wanting to prolong the sensation. He rubs his stubble against the inside of my neck, his fingers going down, stopping above my entrance.
“Do you remember this?” he whispers in my ear.
Nodding, I bite my lip when he hums again. His fingers disappear between my folds. First one, then two trace the line up to my clit.
“Have you made yourself come like this?” he asks against my parted mouth.
“Yes,” I whisper.
He kisses me again, groaning, gripping my thighs. “Someday, you’ll let me watch.”
I moan in response while he pushes both fingers between my folds, stroking me while he pumps in and out. “You’re mine. Promise me you’re mine.” His lips are against my ear. My head falls back and I close my eyes, panting heavily.
“Say it,” he orders before kissing me again.
I open my eyes, staring at him. “You’re mine, and I’m yours.”
“Good,” he says, rubbing harder until I shatter and come.
We sleep well into the next day. And after walking around for a couple of hours, we head back to the room to change, which turns into a make-out session on the queen-sized bed. We still haven’t gone all the way, and I am giddy with anticipation and scared at the same time.
Standing in front of the glass windows, I revel in the sight that is the Las Vegas Strip. Walking up to me from behind, he’s only wearing his boxer shorts judging by the reflection. He hugs me, kissing the top of my head. He kisses down my neck, and I turn in his arms, his lips lingering on my skin. He opens my bathrobe, and my thighs tense. I love the way his hands move over my naked breasts. He sinks to his knees, and leans back on his heels in front of me. Grabbing my hips, he holds me in place.
“What are you doing?” I pant, leaning my head against the cold window.
“You’ll see.” His voice is hoarse and he licks his lips. The way his hot breath feels against my cold, damp panties makes me even wetter than I already am.
He looks up, his lips curling into a salacious smile. “Fuck, you’re getting wet, aren’t you.” More a statement than a question.
He strokes my thighs, pushing them wider apart. Pressing his nose against my drenched panties, he inhales deep, and I groan.
My toes curl up from the floor, my knees buckling, his calloused hands holding me up. “Yes,” I pant.
“Yes what? Tell me what to do.” His voice is teasing as he pushes his thumb against my clit through the fabric, and I gasp.
“Yes, I want your mouth on me.” I whimper, shifting my hips restlessly against the cool glass.
“Good girl.” He smirks and I can hardly form a coherent thought.
