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His heavy cock was thick and hard, hanging at his hip below his tattoos. The round head was flushed with need and there was a vein running up the side that pulsed. Still staring between my thighs, he wrapped his hand around his cock and jerked it lazily.
“Give me something to watch,” he ordered. “Take your tits out.”
Hot all over, I tugged the straps of my slip down and exposed my breasts. My nipples tingled, already hard. Straining to be touched.
His mouth parted as he took in the sight. His fingers clenched, moved up his length, curling around the head.
“Touch your breast with one hand and your cunt with the other,” he breathed.
I obeyed. Pleasure surged as my fingertips skimmed down over my pussy, finding my clit. Tracing the sensitive bud in circles.
“Spread yourself,” he ordered. “Show me what I fuck.”
He’d never been good at tact, but he’d had more in the city. In the wild, the roughness of his edges had spread. They were especially apparent in the bedroom.
I loved it.
He was made to give it like that and I was made to take it. The brusque commands, the manhandling, the iron will that pushed me into orgasm after orgasm. The demand for submission, for trust. For obedience.
I spread my pussy open and slipped my middle finger inside. My muscles were hot and soaked for him. He groaned softly and the sound rumbled in his chest like a growl. His chest heaved, moving faster as he jerked himself to the sight of my pussy.
“Come, Lucien,” I whispered. “Please.”
“No,” he panted. “Not until you do.”
I shook my head, my fingers dipping in and out so he could see how I was soaked for him. “No, I want to be wet and needy when you fuck me.”
His lids flickered and his head fell back. Cum shot from his cock and onto the floor, swirling and disappearing down the drain. I pulled my hand from between my thighs and let my slip drop to the ground and joined him.
I sank to my knees, taking his sensitive cock into my mouth.
“Oh God,” he said, his jaw tight.
There was always a few drops left and I wanted them. His stomach went tight and his hand fisted in my hair, pushing my face into his groin as I sucked the last bits of his cum from his cock. Finally, he’d had too much. He pulled me off him, panting hard.
“Jesus, Liv,” he breathed. “My balls are empty.”
I ran my finger and thumb over my lower lip. His taste lingered on my tongue. Clean, hot, and salty. It satisfied a craving I hadn’t known I’d had.
“For now,” I said, rising.
He gripped my chin, tilting my face up. “I’m not done with you yet.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” I teased, reaching for my shampoo.
He washed my hair with gentle fingers and lathered soap over my body. Taking extra time with my breasts and pussy. Stroking my clit until I was rubbing back against him, my heartbeat loud between my thighs.
“Needy, little thing,” he murmured.
I watched him soap his hard muscles, his suntanned skin, and his tattoos. When we were both clean, he turned the shower off and dried me carefully. I felt his eyes on me as I braided my hair down my back and wandered naked into the bedroom.
He caught me around the waist, his arm like iron.
Before I could draw a breath, I was slung onto my back, the breath knocked from my body. He was over me, his thigh pressing between my legs.
The corner of his mouth drew back in a faint sneer as his cold eyes raked over my face. His chest heaved, abdominal muscles rippling.
“If I fuck you like a dirty, wet slut…will you come for me just like that?” he murmured. “Will you grip my cock and drip around it? Will you pump it with your pretty cunt until I fill you with my cum?”
