AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Why not? Much more interesting than mine. Whose cock are you planning on riding?” He looks mock shocked. “You wouldn’t be talking about mine, would you? Because I got to tell you, I’m not the type to have sex on a first date.”
“That’s good to know.”
“First date, I fuck. Second date is when I have sex and maybe make breakfast in the morning.”
“What do you do on the third date?”
“The mouth and then the asshole.”
“Oh, so you mean you do yourself? How does that work?”
“Witty.” He taps his watch. “Time’s nearly up, Cinderella. Pumpkin’s come to take you home.”
“It’s not midnight yet.”
“Nope, but I’ve got places to be. You want a ride home? Or save it for when I get you home?”
“Just the ride home will do for me.”
He steps back, holding a hand out to help me to my feet. He looks me straight in the eyes and I swallow hard, wondering if he can tell the effect he’s having on me.
He flicks a stray lock of hair away from my eye line. “I guess we’ll just have to see about that, won’t we?”
3
We’re barely through the door before he’s pouncing on me like a panther. His hands dig straight into the small of my back, pulling me toward him, my feet sliding across the carpet until my body presses against his.
My mind goes back to what Maddy said to me. One night. Who gives a shit who he is? He’s insanely hot, and it’s only going to be one night. Then I never have to see him again.
“You are mine,” he says and before I can reply, he’s kissing me. His tongue pushes straight into my mouth like he owns me, hungrily seeking my tongue, exploring, probing, knocking down all the barriers I thought I’d constructed to protect me from men like him.
This isn’t how such things are supposed to go. I’ve had a couple of dates that ended up back here. Every time, they start with small talk, a cup of coffee that gets colder while we perform the dance. The same dance every time, circling around the subject of sex without every touching on it. A tentative move gets made and with much awkwardness on both parts, we end up in the bedroom for a disappointing night followed by a morning riddled with regret and self loathing.
So what am I doing, letting his hands slide down to my ass, cupping it so hard it makes me wince?
“Bedroom?” He growls between kisses.
“That way.” I feel like prey in his arms, like he might tear me apart any moment or maybe just devour me whole and be done with it.
He keeps kissing me as we stagger back into my room. I fall onto the bed and he lands on me, yanking my shitty work top up my body, kissing my stomach with lips so warm they send tingles through my very soul.
I reach for his jacket, shrugging it off his shoulders as he plunges his tongue into my mouth again. I don’t notice his hands sliding around my back until my bra’s unhooked and coming loose, my breasts no longer confined in place. The cool air of the bedroom contrasts with the heat of his lips as he sucks one nipple into his mouth and then the other, bringing them to shuddering life.
I let out a groan of pleasure and that seems only to make him hungrier for me. He yanks my pants down to my ankles, bouncing me on the bed in his urgent need to get me naked.
I do the same to him, fighting with his belt, my hands no longer responding properly. He notices my struggle, shoving his pants down to his ankles. I get a glance at the thickness of his hard cock as he strips out of the last of his things, but it’s only a glance. He’s already down between my legs, kneeling on the floor, yanking my panties off, taking my shoes and socks with them. I’m naked now except for my necklace, utterly at ease too, which I never am during sex.
Hell, the lights are on and I don’t even care. He’s staring at my body and I don’t mind. It must be the alcohol. There can’t be any other explanation for it.
He pushes my legs apart, his eyes widening as he takes a long look at my pussy. His hands are sliding up my calves, his lips following. Not a word has passed between us since he said, “Bedroom,” yet it’s like we’ve known each other for years, totally in sync. I’ve never felt this comfortable, period. Something about this man is bewitching me, but I’m not complaining, not as his lips reach my thighs and his hands pull my lips apart, giving him a look at the most intimate part of me.
“So wet,” he says, sliding a finger straight into me. “I knew you would be.”
His tongue moves to my clit, circling around it, moving closer with each motion until he’s brushing over the top of the hood, easing the ache inside me, turning it into a heat that swiftly grows overwhelming.
He’s still got his finger in me, adding a second as he brings me closer to an orgasm I know is going to be strong. I can feel it already in the tension of my stomach muscles, the clenching of my buttocks, the moans escaping involuntarily from my mouth.
He thrusts his fingers steadily, not picking up the pace, maintaining a rhythm that drives me closer. “Keep going,” I tell him, grinding in place against his face. “I’m so close.”
