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“Condoms?” I ask, swallowing the insistency to step back into her.
“I’m on birth control.”
I huff a laugh, but she doesn’t find anything comical.
“I’ll fuck you bare again, Mila. I don’t give a shit.”
She shakes her head. “I had an IUD put in after Sutton was born.”
“So you can’t get pregnant?”
She shakes her head. “No matter how much you come inside of me.”
I groan with need. She’s the only woman I’ve ever gone bare with, and just the memory of what it felt like to slide into a tight pussy without a barrier covering my dick threatens to end things before I even get my cock out of my pants.
“Jesus,” I mutter, ripping at her clothes. “I fucking love the sound of that.”
I pull her shirt over her head, not wasting a second to lift the cup of her bra out of the way and suck her peaked nipple into my mouth.
“This will complicate things,” she says, her fingers fumbling with my zipper.
“Sex always complicates things,” I quickly agree. “Want to stop?”
She pulls back, her eyes searching mine for the briefest of moments before she shakes her head. “Aren’t things already complicated between us?”
I huff a laugh. “A little.”
“Do you want to stop?”
“Not a chance,” I assure her, leaning in closer and brushing my lips over hers. “And I promise to call you tomorrow and the next day and the next.”
It’s her turn to laugh, her hands going back to work and finally lowering my zipper. The relief I feel is immediate, but then her hand slides behind the fabric of my boxer briefs and it brings with it a whole other kind of need.
“Mila,” I groan, letting my hands drop to my sides so she can work her hands over my length.
“How did I forget about this?” She encircles my cock in her palm, running her hand gently up and down. “So big. I remember now how it stretched me.”
“Swear to God, woman,” I warn, seconds away from painting her skin with cum.
She has a mischievous look in her eyes, making me take a step back. I’m all for handing over a little control, but I draw the line at being tortured. Maybe I’ll be more amenable after she comes, but not a second sooner.
Mila has other plans, however, and who am I to argue when her hands trail down my thighs as she drops lower, her mouth tracing my abs.
Her eyes cast upward as her tongue sneaks out to taste the bead of precum at the tip of my cock is nearly my undoing. I clench my fists at my sides, open and closed, open and closed, the rhythm is what I try to focus on in an effort to gain a little control.
My jaw drops when she wraps her lips around me, her cheeks hollowing with suction. I whimper, the noise a little less masculine that I’d like. Head tilted back, she traces the underside of my cock with the very tip of her tongue, my dick kicking against it, rewarding her with a burst of pre-ejaculate.
She makes a sound of appreciation in her throat when she starts to suck at me again.
My legs shake, my pleasure threatening to take over all control. I’m afraid it will leave me in a crumpled mess on the floor.
“Mila,” I plead, my head spinning with need.
I could easily grip the back of her head and let her suck me off. I doubt she’d argue, but I’ve imagined her pussy clenching at my cock in orgasm too much lately for me to just throw the idea out.
My nuts grow heavier, and I have to stop her. In a bid to keep from coming, I snap my hand out and grab a handful of her hair. The apology is on my lips but never comes to fruition when I see the fire in her eyes.
“So fucking filthy,” I tell her.
