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She rolled her eyes. “Here we go again with the sexual power-tripping, hmm? Nick, the master of all that he surveys.”
“Hell, yeah. I do my best. I have to overcompensate like hell, since most of it rolls right off your back. Otherwise you’d steamroll over me.”
“Oh, yeah. Right,” she snapped. She yanked off her glasses, and started taking off her clothes without ceremony, but her matter-of-fact striptease had its usual effect. It made him sweaty-palmed, breathless, to watch her kick off the sneakers, shimmy out of her jeans, peel off the T-shirt, unhook the bra, pull down the panties. He unbuckled his jeans and shoved them down far enough to free his cock, which sprang up to bounce and sway like it was spring-loaded. He stroked it idly in his hands and waited for her to make another move. Her show, her call.
“Aren’t you going to take off your clothes?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No,” he said softly. “Me clothed, you naked. Me on my feet, you kneeling.”
She harrumphed, crossing her arms over her lush tits. “What is this, some male domination fantasy of yours?”
“What if it is?” he asked. “Anything wrong with that?”
She didn’t have a ready answer for that one and he pressed his advantage. “You’ll get your turn,” he assured her. “I’ll kneel before you naked and put my tongue up the imperial pussy for as long as you want. Hours, days. You’ll have to kick me away to make me stop.”
“That’s not the same thing,” she said primly.
“Why not?” he snapped.
“Because you’re a man,” she said as if it were obvious.
He snorted. “So I should hope. Stop your stalling.” He yanked the coverlet and the puffy synthetic blanket off the bed, folded them and tossed them onto the floor. “For your knees,” he explained.
“Ah,” she murmured. “How thoughtful of you.” She reached out, curling her smooth, cool fingers around his cock. “You’re burning hot.”
“Oh, yeah. One more thing,” he said. “That lipstick. The stuff you lifted off the mafiya mistress. The slut red. You got that stuff with you?”
Her gorgeous lips twitched. “In my purse,” she said demurely.
“Put some on,” he said.
“Of course. I’m ashamed I didn’t think of it myself.” She grabbed her purse from the bed, rummaging through it till she found the silver tube. Then she turned to the stained, dim-looking mirror, and peeked at him mischievously as she put the stuff on.
He wished he was a photographer who could catch that moment forever. Her gorgeous ass stuck out, legs parted for his viewing pleasure so that he could see just a shadowy glimpse of her cunt. Her front reflected in the mirror, tits swaying, dawning wonder in her eyes. Mouth pursed up as she painted herself with painstaking slowness. Dragging it out.
And him, in the background, clutching his dick in his hand. His eyes looked like staring holes in his stark face. He looked desperate.
Power tripping, hell. He was helpless, pleading, at her mercy. In the palm of her slender hand. The only place on earth he wanted to be.
He had to toughen up. Keep up his macho dominator schtick, if he could swing it. Melting down into molten slop for her was not a turn-on. Not a confidence builder. Not if he wanted to keep things light.
NoI-love-you’s. He’d learned his lesson the night before.
She looked back over her shoulder and gave him a hot red smile. “You like this color?”
“Yeah,” he rasped. “I think that color would look really great around the base of my dick.”
It was a risk, but he knew it had paid off when her nose wrinkled up and he heard the telltale snuffle of suppressed giggles. “Pig,” she muttered, tossing the lipstick in the general direction of her purse.
She grabbed his cock as she sank to her knees, and oh, man. He was a goner. As usual, everything was different with Becca.
Including himself. He liked it. The fun, the teasing, the arguing. His face felt strange these days. It actually ached from smiling so much.
She rubbed the head of his cock against her hot, cloud-soft cheek, and flashed him a teasing look. “Does this remind you of something?”
She punctuated her question with a swipe of her pink tongue along the slit on his cock head that oozed clear, slippery drops of pre-come. She licked it up, swirling her tongue round his glans.
He struggled to remember what the hell she’d said. “Huh? Remind me of what? I can’t think straight when you’re doing that.”
