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“I don’t know,” I admit. Then because I’m still not thinking straight, I venture to ask, “Did I do something wrong?”
“Wrong?” he asks.
I attempt a shrug. “I dunno. Maybe… I kissed wrong or you didn’t like the way I felt…” The words trail off and I'm a little embarrassed for bringing it up. But it's probably true. I mean, he tore away after he felt my butt. Maybe he thought it was too big. Maybe after he saw just how much flesh he was holding, he finally wanted to pull out of this.
But then I think maybe I’m wrong, because of how he reacts to my words. First, his look morphs into confused anger, like I’ve lost my damn mind. And then he’s storming over to me, wrapping his hand around my waist and yanking me over to him.
“What’s wrong…” he says biting off each word, “…Is that I’m so fucking turned on right now that I can barely think. Because when I try, all I think about is you. When I try to breathe, all I smell is you. All I can see and desire is you. And I wonder what you would look on that table right now with my cock inside you. That’s the problem."
A funny little sound escapes me.
His words paint such a vivid picture in my mind, it’s like he’s transporting me to his dirty fantasies. They're like a caress, moving inside me, strumming my pussy and making it so wet for him.
Every part of me is so turned on that before I know it, I’m asking, “And what’s wrong with that?”
He hesitates for only three seconds—and I count each one of them—and then his mouth is on mine again, giving me the blissful release that I crave.
And this time, his hand cups over my ass boldly, groaning into my mouth as he drags me into the cradle of his thighs. Something huge and hard settles on my stomach and I freeze when I feel it. His erection.
It's like my whole body flushes at the realization, and it inspires an answer in my pussy, as it gushes for him. Yes, it weeps, and I can feel it dampening my panties but I’m too occupied with something else to be embarrassed.
I swallow another groan into my mouth and it's doing something to my insides. I'm making all sorts of dirty sounds because every time I try to breathe, all I know is desire.
Oliver pulls away again, but thankfully it’s not to stop this as I feared. Instead, he’s whispering to me, “ I need to taste you.” His eyes dark like a storm. “Right fucking now.”
Oh, those are the exact words that make me weak in the knees.
Literally. I feel my knees shake and then give away at his words. With a murmur, he catches me, then simply picks me up and carries me onto the island. One hand goes out to sweep some of the pastries onto the floor. It’s a testament to how far gone we are that none of us even flinch at the sound of dishes crashing onto the floor. Instead, he's occupied yanking my dress up around my waist, shifting my panties and kneeling so he can lick at my seam.
God.
Ecstasy shoots through my body and it arches like a bow. My body curves back and I catch myself on the elbows to keep from hitting the countertop with my entire weight. It's the best thing I've ever felt. No one has ever gone down on me before but this... I think I might die as his tongue goes deeper, nudging at my clit and then lapping up the juices that flow from me.
And he groans as he does it too. He also mutters all kinds of filthy things, like, "Fuck, you taste better than everything," and "I want to take you so bad right now. You have no idea."
"Please.” I'm begging for him now, my head thrashing because the fire inside me cannot be stopped. He continues teasing me, and at this point, I'm not sure if I love or hate him for it. It’s an ugly combination of both, and the thought of hate-fucking him should disturb me a little but it doesn’t. I need to do something with all the conflicting emotions I have toward him, need to fuck him out of my system. That’s probably what this is.
That or the fact that it’s been a shitty fucking week and I really just need to feel good for once.
So, I grab onto his hair and ride his face, giving in with an abandon that should scare me. At first, I think I’m doing it too hard, suffocating him, but then he grasps at my thighs and pulls me even harder against his face, eating me like a man at his last supper. I ride the wave so high, so quickly, and before I know it, I'm screaming as I explode over his face.
It doesn’t end. The ferocious heat inside me doesn’t die down, it only gets hotter. After he gets on his feet and steps back, I rut against the air, needing something more, something bigger to calm me down. I see the savage need reflected in his eyes, as he reaches shakily for his belt buckle.
The sound of his zipper going down excites me even more, and I'm reaching for him even before he comes closer. My legs are thrown open harshly and naturally wrap around his waist. I gasp at the sound of my panties ripping and moan at the feeling of bare cock pressed against my pussy.
"Please," I beg. "Please fuck me."
I've never said anything so dirty in my life, but I can't be ashamed, not when I see what it does to him. His face twists in a pained desire, his eyes squeezing shut for a few seconds as he takes deep breaths.
When they open again, I know there's no going back.
His cock nudges the entrance of my pussy, and I gasp at the size. He’s so huge I don’t know how he’ll fit, but as he pushes slightly into my pussy, it yawns for him, yearning for his length. He goes slowly at first, pushing it in bit by bit, and then more and more.
"Damn, you're so wet for me," he rasps as he gradually rocks inside me with his face twisted into a grimace.
I moan in answer because he's right. I can feel the wetness on my thighs, hear the sounds I'm making.
“And so fucking tight. Fuck," he mutters again, this time with his head thrown back. "Fuck me, it's good."
