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“Yes,” I begged as I turned my head, barely able to contain myself. “Please. Now.” I ran my heels up and down his legs, locked them around his waist. I wanted to prolong this provocative pleasure, but I couldn’t stand it anymore.
He took each of my hands and placed them above my head, entwining our fingers.
“Please,” I whimpered out. “I’m going to lose my fucking mind if you don’t let me feel you.”
He lowered his head to mine, touched my lips with his, and pulled my bottom lip into his mouth as he slowly pushed deep inside me. I was so lost in him and how he made me feel.
“Oh, fuck,” I moaned into his mouth when he finally filled me.
Time seemed to stop for a few magical moments as he looked deep into my eyes. He smiled, kissed my nose, and pulled out to repeat the movement again.
We began moving together, our bodies sliding against each other.
“Say my name.” His eyes were on me, watching. His breathing intensifying, becoming breathless as he moved faster in and out of me.
“Michael—” With every thrust he made, I raised my hips to meet him, my legs around his waist, trying to pull him even deeper into me.
“Yes. Say it again,” he growled as he pulled himself up to his knees, hooking my legs over his arms, and ramming mercilessly into me while he still entwined my hands with his.
I happily complied as I said his name again. “Michael.”
“I can’t get enough of you,” he growled. “Of how fucking good you feel,” he said, his lips kissing my leg.
“I can’t get enough of you.”
“Give it to me.” His voice was ragged and desperate as he continued to beg. “Let me feel when you come all over me again.”
“Michael. Oh god,” I moaned.
“You want more?”
“Fuck yes,” I growled, loving his dominance, the way he said dirty things to me.
He smiled that cocksure smile. “I’ve wanted you every single day. Every time I look at you, I want you. I want everything.”
“Like what?”
“Your mouth on my cock. Your perfect fucking lips, especially when they’re wrapped around my dick and you moan. Fuck, you sound so good. My tongue in your sweet pussy.”
My eyes snapped open, then down to where I could watch as he filled me over and over. I moaned, coaxing him to say more.
“Like right now,” he told me, “I can tell you’re close. Just by the way you sound. There’s nothing better than being buried deep in you, watching you, hearing you come for me.”
I felt myself coiling up from within. Our hands still tightly clasped above my head, keeping me in his control, drove me harder. I squeezed harder with my legs, forcing him to push harder into me as he drove me to the point of no return.
“More,” I begged.
His head lowered, his eyes meeting mine. “Tell me how you like it. Tell me how good this is. How you want me to fuck you harder, deeper.”
That was it—the precipice. And he pushed me there. “Harder! Fuck me harder!” I cried out, his name on my lips, repeating it over and over. “Michael. Michael. Oh god . . . I’m coming.”
He deepened his strokes, lifting me off the bed with every thrust. “Oh, fuck. I’m coming again,” I yelled out for him.
He was relentless. I tried to pull my hand out of his to stifle my screams as he continued to pump inside me, feeling the onslaught build again. But he grabbed my hand and held it above me again. “Uh-uh. Tonight, I want you to break the fucking windows with your screams. Come for me again.”
His words spurred me on, and I kept my eyes locked to his as I nodded and he continued, “I love how you sound when you let yourself just feel. How you cry out for me. Nothing in the world feels as good as this. Right here. You feel this?” He made sure I felt each and every pump of him.
I pleaded for more. My body seemed to be addicted to his words, his dirty talk. I was ready to fall again.
