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Stroking it from root to tip, the top bubbling up with beads of come while his other hand holds an instrument of death…I can’t tell which one is more dangerous…or shockingly turns me on more.
It’s the combination of savageness that sets me off, the spot between my legs becoming damp with a quickness, aching with a need that can only be satisfied with the savage in half-on suit pants in front of me.
And it needs to happen fast or I’m going to explode.
“Oh God,” I whimper, my back arching as my hand can’t be controlled, sliding up the side of my body and cupping my chest. “I need these hands to be yours, this touch to belong to you, not me.”
“Fuck, girl. You keep talking like that and I’m going to toss my spend all over this floor before I can even get to you. Can hardly believe it. A body so pristine with a mouth that I can clearly see is on its way to becoming very, very naughty. Dirty in fact.”
“Filthy,” I correct.
“As much as I want to tear into your innocence, claim you as mine, I have to keep reminding myself that we’ve got all night, and the longer we wait, the stronger the build-up, and the more anticipation, the more intense the memory. So…”
Without taking his eyes off me, he reaches for the sterling silver lid on the dessert tray, removes it, and slides a hand in, taking a strawberry from the bowl.
Slowly he brings it in front of his chest, his muscles rippling just from such simple movements. I can only imagine how they react when he’s taking me for the first time.
His eyes still on me he brings the sharp end of the knife to the long end of the strawberry, slicing through it and then dipping it in the whipped cream.
“I have to warn you. You make me fucking crazy.”
“As do you for me.”
“Good,” he says, and then bends his arm at the wrist and brings his forearm forward, the knife flying out of his hand and into the wall a solid ten or so feet to his side, the blade sticking right in the drywall.
I jump, my eyes wide as chills run up my spine. He wasn’t fucking kidding.
Slithering toward me, when he reaches me he grabs my head with one hand, gently guiding my head back by my hair, and then rubs the cream covered strawberry over my lips before bringing it so gently down into my mouth, begging me to bite, which I do.
He releases his grasp on my head and I chew up the tasty fruit, still a bit off-kilter by his whole knife-throwing thing.
Seemingly able to read my nervousness, he moves back to the dessert tray, giving me some space before he takes the serving plate and has a strawberry for himself.
“Sweet, but nowhere near as sugary as you. How do I solve this problem?” he asks aloud, but his face clearly reveals he already has a solution in mind.
“I don’t know. What do you think?” I ask, bringing the tip of my index finger to my lips, tarting it up for him.
“We solve it by you getting on that bed right now and then stripping for me.”
I kick off my shoes and then take off and jump up onto the bed, then jump on the bed itself. This is the moment I could never have as a kid because I never slept in a bed that wasn’t a bunk bed, let alone one strong enough to jump on.
Yet here I am, doing jumping jacks on a bed that surely costs an ungodly sum.
Sam reaches for his phone and I watch him, wondering why he’s suddenly distracted from the entertainment in the room. Me.
But as he sets it down and Romeo Santos’Propuesta Indecentebegins to play I know exactly what he’s doing. Somehow that song helps even a white girl desperate to dance find her rhythm as I rub my hands up and down my sides, grabbing the bottom of my dress and moving it up and over my head.
Next I unhook my bra, sliding out of it as I keep my hand in its place. Watching Sam’s eyes narrow and his cock twitch is worth the price of admission, knowing I have this effect on such a desirable man.
As I work my way out of my panties, Sam kicks off his own shoes and slides his trousers and boxer briefs down.
Now both nude he moves toward me, the dessert in one hand and his other hand free. But not for long.
As he reaches the bed he grabs both of my ankles in a single hand and yanks them forward, sending me falling onto my back. I bounce with a big smile on my face, having the time of my life as he sits the tray down on the bed, runs the strawberry through a trail of whipped cream and then drags the berry down the center of my body.
It feels so foreign yet so sexy. Pressing my body into the fruit, I arch my back and tear at the sheets.
In a split second he’s on top of me, his tongue following the trail of cream straight down the center of my body until he reaches my clenching sex.
