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My admission is the catalyst he needs, and he surges forward with renewed vigor, hungrier than ever as he devours my mouth. I can feel the scorch of his hands everywhere they touch—along my sides, up my thighs, cupping my face.
I can’t think, can hardly breathe as my blood sings just for him.
“I have thought about this moment constantly since I first saw you.” He kisses me desperately. “I need to taste you. Need to watch as your body welcomes every inch of my cock. Need to feel you convulsing around me before you go tumbling into oblivion.”
Incapable of coherent speech, my head falls back against the cushion as I moan at the waves of bliss coursing through me. He pushes my top up, his lips descending on the smooth planes of my abdomen and eliciting goosebumps.
I gasp as his tongue flicks out, sensations threatening to overwhelm me.
With an aching slowness, he trails a searing path up to my breasts. My nipples are painfully hard as they press against the cotton confines of my bra, and I whimper with a need I’m unsure how to sate.
Crawling back up my body until he’s hovering over me, Don vows, “I’m going to spend the rest of the night worshiping your body, and only when you are begging me for release will I slide into that sweet, sweet cunt of yours and give us both what we so desperately need.”
My body reacts to his words, my back arching and heat building in my core. I’m unsure if my body is saying ‘yes, please or please don’t torture me like that’, but either way, I want everything he will give me and more.
With careful movements, he helps me sit up enough to pull my top over my head, before leaning down to kiss me passionately until I’m breathless. His lips move to my jaw, carving a path up to my ear, down the column of my throat, and over my breastbone until he reaches the cup of my bra.
Glancing up at me, he holds my gaze as he peels the thin fabric away from my skin, exposing me to him.
“You are so beautiful,” he purrs, never once looking away from my face. “My gorgeous little devil. Worth every one of my prayers and worshiped words at your altar.”
I cry out when his hand cups my breast, his thumb brushing my aching nipple. My hips tilt, instinctively knowing what I need as I seek some form of friction to ease the throbbing.
Obliging, Don pushes his thigh between mine, and I shamelessly grind against him in a desperate need for release.
“That’s it, Kali, use me for your pleasure. I am yours to command.”
“Don.” His name is a plea and a prayer all rolled into one, and I suddenly realize he is the god I should have been praying to all these years. He’s the only one truly listening, the only one who will always answer.
His hand slips to my ass, holding me at just the right angle as he growls, “Come for me, Kali.”
Something ignites deep inside me, and it feels as though fireworks are exploding in my belly as my whole body tenses. I can’t breathe, can’t make a noise, can’t do anything but cling to Don’s shoulders and gape at him as wave after wave of insatiable pleasure crashes over me.
A low moan rumbles past my numb lips, building momentum until I can’t seem to stop. As quickly as it started, my screaming stops and my body sags bonelessly against the sofa. I’m breathing like I just ran a marathon, my heart feeling as if it’s about to explode from my chest.
“What was that?” I ask breathlessly.
“That,” Don says, staring at me in complete rapture. “Was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever witnessed.”
His lips descend on mine with renewed vigor, and although my body feels heavy, that throbbing starts up again, and I find myself clawing at him for more.
My hands find the bottom of his top, yanking it up until he helps me out by pulling it over his head.
Just like the morning I woke up beside him in bed, I can’t seem to look away from the vast expanse of bronzed skin on display. My hands reach out, needing to touch him, but unsure, I pause millimeters away.
“Touch me.” There’s a desperation in his voice. “All of me is yours to touch and do with as you please.”
I press my hand against his chest, gasping at the static that jumps beneath my fingers. My eyes dart to his, and I know he felt it too. Cautiously, with the same sort of reverence he showed me, I explore his body by tracing the outlines of tattoos I know nothing about and brushing my fingers over the ridges of his abdomen.
“Undo my belt,” he orders in a strained voice.
My hands shake as I hurry to do as he says, fumbling with the clasp until it finally gives. When I’m done, I look up at him for further direction.
“Buttons,” he groans. He looks physically pained, and I can see his chest rising and falling in the same chaotic rhythm as mine. “God, you have no idea how badly I need to feel your hands on me.”
With his buttons undone, he stands so he can kick off his boots and jeans. Keeping his gaze locked on mine, he lowers his boxers. I try not to look, but the need is too great, and my eyes flick downward.
“Ehhh.” My whole body tenses at the weapon of mass destruction hanging between his legs, and I must look like a deer caught in headlights as he chuckles in a way that’s full of male satisfaction.
