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“Don’t leave, Strap,” she whispered. “Stay here. With me”
He sat closer, still holding her hand. She felt the heat pulsing from his body to hers. Holding his hand heightened all of her other senses as if it locked her into him.
Every once in a while, one of them would pretend to notice the laptop … a guard was walking down a hall, or they spotted one of his mistresses. But soon, they forgot.
Even holding hands was erotic with him. Their hands caressed each other, exploring the contours and folds of each other’s fingers. Their fingertips moved like virtuoso violinists. She remembered feeling his fingers inside her, confidently grabbing what he knew to be his.
It was the best sex of her life, which should have been obvious. No one had the strength and stamina of a shifter. She didn’t want him to know just how hard she was falling for him.
He pulled her hand to his lips, kissing it gently. Every square inch. It sent a chill through her entire body.
He kissed the inside of her fingers, catching each one. He parted his lips, drawing in a finger, and sucked gently, moving his tongue.
She let out a moan, and he stared her directly in the eyes.
“Mmm.” His voice buzzed against her fingers.
She wrapped her other arm around him and straddled his lap. She took her fingers back and leaned forward on his chair, cradling his perfect face.
His eyes were the cool blue of the Spanish water. She pressed her face into his neck and breathed deeply, almost expecting the smell of the sea. His pheromones pulled her in … masculine, raw, intoxicating. She kissed his throat, hanging onto his sculpted shoulders, feeling how strong the arms holding her were.
She lifted her head to kiss him deeply. A shared warmth spread across their bodies as they pushed with their tongues, at first tentatively, then ravenously. It was pure animalism, a fight to the death. All they wanted was each other. Their lips grabbed for purchase against the other’s.
She arched her back over him and removed her shirt, then bra. She bent down and unzipped his pants, making a bridge of her hips to allow him to slough them off.
She wore her silk black peek-a-boo panties for him, hoping he’d be able to see. She peeled off her jeans, and she presented herself to him, arching, her full breasts bouncing in front of his face. He wanted to cup them, for his hands to overflow with them.
Instead, he grabbed the waistband of her panties and pulled her closer. He cupped her ass cheeks and felt the strips of soft black mesh fanning out from the splayed gusset.
His cock twitched with excitement to see her sexy, bondage-like panties. He moaned as if in pain from wanting her.
“Give me the full show,” he panted, barely able to speak. “Now. Let me look at what you clearly wanted me to see. That juicy, perfect ass.”
She hopped proudly off his lap, shaking her booty in his face. She turned and craned her neck backward to see his awestruck face. She highlighted her ass with her hands like flaunting a prized possession in a display case.
She poked out her ass, forming an “s” shape with the curve of her back to the swell of her ass. She clenched it and wiggled, taunting him.
He bolted out of the chair as if his panther had actually taken over before she could even hear him get up. He could not help himself.
He pressed her against the table and guided her hands to its surface, holding them in place. He wanted her so badly that taking off his boxer briefs was a waste of precious time, keeping him from his mate. He pulled them down just far enough for his cock to spring out and used his large, strong, powerful hands to spread the gauzy lace crisscrossing her ass.
Her pussy was so wet for him that he slid in without resistance with one powerful thrust. He heaved a satisfied, aching sigh, and she let out a little squeal, delighted for him to enter her so quickly, so ferociously.
He thrust with powerful, unrestrained strokes, bounding in and out. He held her swaggering breasts, swinging back and forth underneath her, squeezing them in his hands, feeling the perfection of their shape.
She stayed bent over, and he straightened and then grabbed hold of her hips. He pushed her back and forth on his cock, leaving streaks of her on him.
“Strap, oh my God. That’s so good. Put me exactly where you want me, exactly where you need me on your cock,” Mickey said.
“You’re so tight and wet, Mickey. I want to keep going. But God, you make it hard not to come,” Strap said, sweat glistening on his high cheekbones.
“You’re like a fucking bullet train. Spreading me wide open,” she said.
“I love the way you talk to me. I love how much you love my cock inside you, filling all of you up. Fuck! You feel sooo good.”
He moaned like he was falling and couldn’t catch himself. He sounded like he was crying out for help.
He yelled as her orgasm pulsed around his thick, hard cock, grabbing onto it like it was hers.
