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As he tears down my panties, I let out another moaning gasp. Moisture pools between my legs, and I can’t remember the last time I was this turned on. Instantly, his tongue is there, eagerly lapping up the moisture and devouring me as if I belong to him. And not the other way around.
My fingers lace through his hair as I muffle my own cries. Right now, I could scream.
“Fuck me,” I say, reaching for him.
Standing up, he rips down the zipper of his pants, and I help him work them down his thighs. His cock stands proudly, a drop of precum waiting at the tip. My tongue darts out as I fold myself forward to suck that single drop from the head of his dick.
He moans loudly, the sound like a shock of arousal to my core. So I pull him down to the bed and climb on top of him. I slather his length with saliva as I ravenously work my mouth up and down his shaft.
Then I move my mouth to his lips and kiss him as he lines himself up with my cunt, pushing my hips down until I’m impaled on him. My cries are desperate, raspy sounds of pleasure and need.
“Fuck yes,” I say against his lips.
“Fuck me,” he replies.
My hips start grinding in a quick motion. There is no starting slow at this moment. We’re too fevered and needy for some relief.
It’s wrong of me to fuck him without a condom. Even knowing everyone is regularly tested and I take my pill without fail, this is just how out of control I feel with him. But I have no regrets or fears. I trust him.
But more importantly, I need him.
My fingers are digging into his chest as he takes my hands in his.
I love the way his hands feel clasped in mine. How many men and women have I been with and never before felt these incessant butterflies with the smallest of touches?
As he flips us around so that he’s on top, our hands stay clutched together. It brings us closer, and it’s a good deal more intimate. Never mind the fact that he’s fucking me. It’s the way our fingers are intertwined that makes my heart speed up.
His gaze barrels down on me as he pounds between my legs even faster. The passion is palpable. Like a storm we can’t escape.
Not that I’d want to.
“I’m not coming until you do,” he says through his heavy breathing.
“Fuck me harder.” My voice shakes as I cry out.
I can’t take my eyes off him. I’m enamored by him. Possibly even obsessed. And I have no idea why. It’s as if he was made for me. Perfect in every way, no matter how hard I search for a flaw. I love the way he moves. The sounds he makes. The expression on his face. All of it is so genuine, so real.
Our eyes meet, and I’m immediately swept away down a river of pleasure. My body seizes, and my legs tighten around his hips. The sensation courses through every inch of my body as I cling to him as if I can bring him with me.
Seeing me come makes him come.
His movements slow to an intense pounding as he groans out his release, and I feel his cock shudder inside me.
Our foreheads touch as we gasp the same air. Once we’re both spent, he relaxes himself over my body, pressing his lips to mine.
What has gotten into me? What is it about this one that seems to infiltrate every aspect of my life?
My personal rules are being broken, not to mention I’ve turned down clients for him. If only he knew that man he saw me talking to before was a man I had to refer to another Domme.
Every time I tell myself I need to stop this with Clay, I look into his eyes, feel the way he looks right through the facade I’ve built and into my soul, and I know I’m fucked.
“Boo.” A sweet, familiar voice pops up in my left ear, tearing me away from the memory I’ve been replaying in my mind like a movie reel.
Charlotte smiles at me as she takes the empty stool at the table where I’m sitting.
“Oh, hey,” I mumble.
“Am I bothering you?” she asks with concern.
