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“Tell me what you want.” His voice was impatient with want as he pulled his shirt over his head, slid his pants down, and kneeled between my legs, spreading me open before him. He traced his finger down the middle of my body as he instructed me, “Tell me, Siena, what do you want me to do to you?”
I loved him like this, in absolute and total control, but still asking how I wanted him to pleasure me. “Touch me,” I told him, watching as his hand hovered over me. He slowly brought his hand back up my body. I arched off the mattress into his touch.
“I want to take my time with you tonight. Tell me more.”
“Lower,” I whispered.
“No rushing,” he said, moving his hand to my bared apex.
I tried to get closer. To feel the friction of his fingers against me.
He smiled wickedly. “We have all night, and I’m going to spend it with you . . . in this bed . . . filling you up, pounding into you until you scream my name.” He traced his finger up, pressed onto my clit, dominating me not only with his touch but with his words.
Needing more of him, I coaxed him. “Put your mouth on me.”
“Is that what you want, Siena?”
I moaned out, pleading. Damn, this man and his words and his wicked mouth were going to be my undoing.
“You are so beautiful,” he said, pushing his finger into me. My body bucked at the feeling of him finally inside me. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, bringing his other hand upward, over my stomach, and finally to my nipple.
He placed soft biting kisses across my skin as he trailed his mouth up my body. Then he took his time traveling back down. His breath was featherlight against my skin, his kisses torturously intoxicating.
His nose traced the crease of the inside of my leg as his finger moved in and out. “I’m going to watch you come. Again and again.” I nearly shattered from his promise, his voice low and primal. He looked up at me, and I met his eyes. The hunger in them knocked the air out of my lungs. In that moment, I’d never felt sexier.
I closed my eyes at the bliss about to come.
“Keep your eyes on me,” I heard him say as he withdrew his finger.
I opened my eyes and picked my head up. He placed both hands on either leg.
“That’s right. I want you to watch me as I eat you. As I bury my tongue deep inside you and suck you off.”
I gulped at his hedonistic words.
He leaned into me, and I heard him inhale my scent. His tongue swiped at my center, feeling like heaven. He continued to lick and suck at the bundle of nerves. I clutched at the sheets, rocking up into his face, moaning out, telling him yes, and not to stop. His tongue moved over me, licking, sucking. It wasn’t going to take long at all. “Fuck, yes. I’m so close. Almost there.”
“You taste so good. Give it to me.”
“Michael.” His name was a prayer on my lips. And just like that, as if he knew that was the exact moment, I felt his fingers enter me again, filling me, curling upward as he pressed harder with his tongue.
My back bowed off the bed as I exploded, his face buried between my legs, his tongue lapping me up, groaning out, muffled moans of pleasure from him as his lips stayed on me.
My head dropped back, my eyes fluttering with the aftershocks that rippled through me. I felt as he shifted and moved up to me.
He kissed me deeply, his tongue sliding against mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck, tasting myself on his lips.
Enfolding me in his arms, wrapping me in his hold, I groaned into his mouth as his chest grazed my hard nipples.
He grabbed a foil and handed it to me. As I slid it down, he said, “I want to bury myself in you over and over again.”
I rocked my hips up, his cock sliding against my soaking heat. I moaned with each pass along my crease. With one quick move, he’d be buried deep inside me.
“I am fucking dying to be inside you,” he whispered as he slid up and down.
My breath caught, and I whimpered from his teasing, rocking higher off the bed in search of him.
“Is that what you want?” he asked. His tip grazed my entrance.
