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“Touch me,” he said. “If you really want this. Touch my cock.”
“My hands are freezing cold,” she warned.
“They won’t be for long.”
She lifted her hands, tentatively. He grabbed them, wrapped them around the shaft of his cock. They gasped, him at the cold, her at the heat. Delicious, volcanic. The velvety supple softness, gliding over that hot, hard, urgent pulse of blood in his shaft. So thick, stiff and ready. Her thighs tightened. Her hand barely closed around him.
Her body felt tight. Her skin felt too small. Bruno flung his head back. She wanted to kiss the taut tendons in his throat, but she was trapped in his tight grip. His fists clamped over her hand, guiding the long, squeezing strokes, the twisting swirls.
It was so quiet, just occasional night sounds of the city, their harsh breathing, the wet sounds of her hands moving on him. Rougher than she’d expected. Her lungs were squeezed small with excitement, thighs clenched around a hot glow. She pried a hand free, and cupped his ass. Dug her nails into the taut dips and curves of his flanks, pulling him. She wanted to savor his slick, salty taste.
His hand blocked her face as she leaned closer. “No.”
She was utterly taken aback. Men never refused blow jobs. The craving for fellatio was hardwired into them. “No?” she repeated.
He held her face firmly at a distance. “If I can’t, you can’t,” he said. “Not unless it’s mutual. It’s my sexual code of conduct.”
“Oh, come on!”
“Fair’s fair,” he said. “No compromise. Take me or leave me.”
She squeezed his hot, pulsing rod, milking it. “I’ll take you.”
“Yeah?” He covered her hands with his around his cock. “I’m getting a weird feeling. I’ve been letting my dick do the thinking, but even with a non-functioning brain, I feel like you’re messing with me.”
“No.” Panic twisted in her middle. “No, I’m not. Really.”
“Oh, I’ll still do it,” he assured her. “I want it. But I’ll tell you right now. If you try to make me feel bad afterwards for having done it, it will piss me off like you would not believe.”
“I won’t,” she assured him.
“Yeah? Good. If you have any doubts, this is your chance to put your clothes on and leave.”
She grabbed his hand, pulling until he sank to his knees again. “No doubts,” she said, pulling his hand between her legs. “Feel me.”
His fingers dipped into the slick, hot moisture that bathed her pussy. Air hissed sharply out of his mouth.
He shoved her down onto the blanket. The lumpy cushions gave, aged springs creaking, and she shuddered with pleasure as he teased her pussy, sliding his fingers inside while his thumb sought out her clit.
He diddled her, dragging kisses up her belly that left a trail of wildly overstimulated flesh in their wake. When he reached her breasts, heat bloomed, unfolding from inside her chest and swelling helplessly to meet the call of his hot mouth. She made a shocked sound.
He lifted his head. “What? Don’t tell me your tits are taboo, too.”
The sour note in his voice made her giggle. “No.”
“Thank God.” He bent his head to her breasts again.
She usually got bored with foreplay, though she always awarded a guy points for the effort. But this was pleasure on a whole new scale.
She shook, straining, as each slow thrust caressed her sweet spots. His mouth coaxed her into a sparkling froth of sensation, until she was writhing, hips jerking, chest heaving against his hot mouth. “Enough,” she gasped out. “Please…please. I want you.”
“Give me one, first,” he said.
She blinked in the dark, utterly lost. “Huh? Give you what?”
“Come for me. Before we do it.”
She didn’t have enough air in her lungs to laugh. Like orgasms were so easy to come by. “I can’t do that on command,” she explained. “It’s not that easy for me to come, but I’m having a really great time, and you’re doing everything right, so don’t take it personally if I can’t—”
