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She pushed up on her knees, leaned forwards and gave him the full taste of her breast and the freedom to let his hands roam over her buttocks.
She felt incredible to Daniil—no silicone, no wobbly bits, just hard muscle beneath his fingers—and he pressed in as his mouth sucked harder.
She wanted more of the press of his fingers and the suction of his mouth, then he eased into her cold, long fingers, and she had a heady memory of his beautiful fingers caressing a glass and they were now inside her.
‘Cold hands,’ Libby breathed.
‘Cold heart,’ Daniil mumbled, with a mouthful of breast.
‘I don’t care...’
Her face was a furnace, her moans were ones of reproach as she berated herself for being so easy, so loose, and it had nothing to do with their fleeting time together, more that she was fighting not to come.
Daniil loved a fight; he stroked her so deeply, he got right up and into her oiled, heated space till she gripped tight on his fingers, and still he did not relent, stroking her down till she knelt on him breathless.
‘I’d be a terrible male,’ Libby said. ‘It would all be over...’
‘You’d be snoring,’ he said, looking up at her shuttered eyes. ‘And I’d be lying all tense and frustrated.’
He laughed at his own joke and lay with his fingers inside her, laughing when usually sex was a serious pursuit for him.
And then, because this night was more pleasurable than expected, he rested on the ropes and planned the next round, for he would take her to the limit; he would enjoy the lithe body that came so easily to his hand.
He lifted her so she sat high on his chest, her legs astride him, but he moved them so that her legs were over his shoulder and then he sat up.
‘What...?’
Her eyes snapped open as she was lifted up.
God, he was strong.
His hands held her hips, and when she was sure she would topple he secured her with his mouth, burying his face in her sex.
Her legs were over his shoulders and down his back, and it took a moment to balance, but when she did, oh, my. He just held her and sucked her and there was nothing to hold on to, just mid-air and his hands on her hips and the bliss of his mouth. He moved her as he wanted, he tasted her absolutely, he drew from her words that she’d never uttered with each probe of his tongue.
‘Never stop,’ Libby begged as she came, loving the way he pushed her to the limit.
He had to stop, or he’d be coming to mid-air.
Daniil loved sex, for his own pleasure, but feeling her flicker to his tongue, that musky scent had him giddy and right on the edge himself.
He dropped her.
And she loved that he did.
The slam of the mattress on her back, the slight disorientation as she tried to locate the pillows, just to sheath him, but she was upside down in his bed.
‘I’d better warn you...’ He didn’t need to. She saw he was more than ready as he slipped the condom on and he could come now and he’d still be her best lover.
His lips were shiny from her as he came over her and kissed her, and had she had any manners she’d have parted her legs, but she loved the roughness of his hairy thigh as he dealt with that.
She lay, a lazy, drunk-on-lust lover, hazy and giddy from two orgasms and trying to find brief pause, but there was none. There was a shrill of nervousness in her as she looked into ice and then surly lips spread into a ghost of a smile and she knew that she was about to find out what it was to be taken.
* * *
‘Oh...’ Libby said, as she was rapidly stretched, and she looked up into those cold grey eyes that were open to hers and she didn’t need kissing, she just drowned in his pleasure and chose to enhance it—her arms raised as she gripped the wooden slats at the foot of the bed.
Rough were the hands that pulled her down but she held on firmly.
‘Libby,’ he said, and tugged her down again but she did not let go, holding on as he took her, shackled by their thoughts, and it was a decadent bliss.
Oh, one night was not enough. It was her only tangible thought as he swelled within her, but still he did not give in.
‘Come...’ she begged, because she would at any moment. The noise alone signalled the end, he was so fast and so pumped, but still he would not unleash. He slowed and she clenched around his thick tip, gripped and released and watched his lips part as she played him at his own game, a game where both won, for he drove fully into her then, a punishment for daring to goad him, a delicious internal wrestle to take the lead.
Beneath him, she still came out on top, for Libby arched into him, pressed her hands into his buttocks, urged him and fully partook, but then, as her legs went to wrap around him, as she went to cling to him and share in the journey home, he took the lead.
