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“Watch me take your sweet nipple into my mouth,” he commands after a long sigh of desire escapes his parted lips.
My eyes jerk open, and I tilt my head down to watch as his dark hair, his hard jaw, the scarred ridges of his face, and his lips, which are kissed red and swollen by my own, take the hard, dark peak of my nipple into his mouth. His tongue laves the bud, rolling over it until I’m flushed and sweating and whimpering.
Because he’s a wicked, wicked tease, both of us have to be aching by now, and I feel his fingers in my wetness, slicking it over the inside of my thigh as he traces his way up to my center. He plays with me, pinching my clit, circling his finger through my seam, and making me wild with the throbbing ache that I need him to sate.
“If you don’t use those fingers properly, I swear I’m going to…to….”
“What are you going to do?” he asks darkly, raising his head and releasing my nipple from his mouth with a delicious-sounding pop.
“I’m going to…”
“Is it kinky? Because if it is, I might be down for it.”
He stops playing with me, moving his hand to my entrance and pushing two fingers inside, slowly, filling me to the first knuckle, then the second, curling them inside me and thrusting gently until I’m eviscerated. I know leather is very forgiving, but if I go up in flames, that’s going to be a hard one to figure out.
“I love the feel of you wrapped around my fingers. So tight and hot. And I love that you don’t just want this. You need this. You need me, filling you up.”
Heat burns through every bit of me, and I swear this couch is in even more danger of going up in flames. I love his dirty words. He could say so many more filthy things before I’d ever be embarrassed. “Yes,” I pant. “Oh my god… Smoke.”
“My cock is leaking all over the seam of your leg. Put your hand down and feel it. Feel how badly I want to be inside that tight pussy.”
Oh my god. With pleasure. He shifts so I can grasp his cock, his hard length kicking and straining in my hand, leaking wet, salty drops all over my palm. I can’t help it. As soon as I’m drenched in him, I bring my hand up to my mouth to lick the brine. I hum at the pleasure of the dark, erotic taste of him, and his pupils dilate, filling his lovely gray orbs with black. His fingers paint my lower lip a second later, filling my mouth instead as I open up and let him caress my tongue. I can feel myself pooling all over the place, my seam soaking, my bottom getting wet with it. As for the couch—dear god, the couch. I’m not even sure that leather can stand up to this. I silently send an apology to the furniture gods for this one, but there isn’t any stopping us.
While I suck on Smoke’s fingers, licking off every drop of my juices from those hard, inked digits, he fits his cock to my entrance. He’s breathing hard and fast, his big shoulders and chest pumping like bellows.
“Are you sure I won’t hurt you?” he asks so gruffly that it splits my heart in half.
I bury my hands in his hair and clench hard as he slides his hand away from my mouth, painting my saliva down my chin and chest as he palms my breast and circles my nipple with the calloused pads of those wonderful fingers.
I thrash my head against the couch until my hair is a spilled mess beneath me. I can feel my skin flush despite my darker undertone, the red spreading over my chest and staining my neck a dark red, like Merlot. I stare into Smoke’s face, his brutal, lovely face that I find so enchanting, and at his lips which are swollen where I’ve kissed and nipped them. I know my own look the same. His eyes are wild, but cutting through the haze of passion is the uncertainty, the fear that he could hurt me, or do something to hurt our baby like this.
I caress one hand over his soft hair, brushing my fingertips over the damp skin of his forehead. “I’m sure. I know you’ll be as gentle as you can, and the human body is tough. I’m built to protect our baby until he or she is born, and it’s very, very early yet. I don’t think we have to worry about, um, pleasure posing any sort of risk until later. Month and months from now.”
Smoke’s whole face softens as he looks down at me. I can see the veins in his inked arm straining under the skin, the muscles taut and ropey as he holds his entire weight with his knees and that arm.
