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“I liked that too.” Something long and thick settles between my ass cheeks, and it only takes a second to realize what it is. Talking about this has made him hard.
“I fuckin’ loved your lips wrapped around my cock.” He climbs off the bed and removes the towel, leaving me naked and exposed.
“That sounds like a fair trade,” I say, my breath hitching when he kneads the fleshy part of my ass.
The relaxation I felt a moment ago turns to need and want, my core throbbing for his fingers to go just a little lower, but he doesn’t. He moves to the other cheek before lowering himself onto my legs.
His big hands work my inner thighs, getting even closer to what I want. When he doesn’t comply with my needs, I squeeze his hands between my thighs, hoping he gets the picture. Still, he ignores me, pulling his hands free before moving to my calves. My pussy nearly weeps with disappointment.
This is all he offered, though, right? A massage. Nothing more, nothing less. I just didn’t realize how it’d make me feel.
“Time to turn over,” he says after thoroughly rubbing each of my feet, and even that was a turn-on.
“Roll over?”
“Gotta do the front.”
I snicker. “I don’t think that’s how it works.”
“You said yourself that you’ve never had a massage. How would you know?”
I grin. He’s doing this on purpose, teasing me until I break down and beg for it. Clearly, he hasn’t learned how deep my stubborn streak goes.
Rolling over, I splay my arms out to the side and part my legs, laying myself out for him like a buffet. He lets out a strangled groan from where he’s standing at the foot of the bed.
“Something wrong?” I ask.
“Not a damn thing.” His voice is gruff and low.
“Then get to it.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He moves from one side of the bed to the next, rubbing my arms and hands. I can feel his eyes devouring my naked body the whole time. I wonder what his next move will be, and that question is answered when he straddles my stomach and rubs my upper chest. The hard bulge I felt earlier presses into me while he works, so close yet so far from where I want it.
His thumbs tease the top of my breasts, dipping lower with each pass until they finally skim over my nipples. My core clenches, and I gasp, that tiny move doing so much to my body. Everything in me screams to beg him to fuck me already, but I swallow it down, and instead, up my game.
I moan loudly. “God, that feels so good.”
It’s not a lie. I just wouldn’t normally be so vocal.
His hands skirt lower until he’s palming my breasts, kneading them the same way he’s done to my whole body, but rather than relax me, it keys me up even more. I’m wet and sticky between my thighs, my arousal growing by the second. Then he’s gone, off the bed and back at my side.
This time, he starts with my calves and works his way up to my thighs. The bastard. That was intentional. He wants to see me squirm.
And squirm I do when he kneels on the bed between my knees and lifts my left leg to his shoulder. He massages my thighs, higher and higher, until he’s centimeters from my dripping pussy. I thrust into the air, earning a slap to my leg.
“Hold still,” he chastises.
“Rigger,” I whine.
He runs his fingers along the outside of my pussy lips, and I nearly combust. After repeating everything with my right leg, he scoots closer until his knees touch my ass. His hands wrap around my hips, and his thumbs work the area just above my center.
He’s toying with me, going low enough that my nipples harden to stones, and I fist the sheets at my side. My mouth goes dry, and I’m seconds from breaking. Right now, I need to come more than I need air, and if he doesn’t give it to me, I’m worried I’ll cry.
Inhaling deeply, he moans. “You’re so turned on, I can smell your desire.”
“You cannot.”
