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His gaze travels over me like a flame. My breasts tighten, my nipples harden. Oh crap. What’s the matter with me? I don’t want him to hurt me.
Okay, maybe hurt me a little. Why does the thought make me wet? Jesus. I struggle against him, fighting him—fighting myself, the want that burns under my skin.
He shifts until he’s pressed between my legs, and I moan at the feel of his long hard cock where I’m aching for him.
“Do you want this?” He runs his free hand down his stomach and into his shorts, his cock and his hand now both pressing against my mound. “Tell me.”
I swallow hard. “Yes.”
“How do you want it?”
“In my mouth.” God, is this me? I only know I want to taste him again, I want him to fill my mouth first, my sex later. “Like this.”
“Fuck, Ray.” He lifts up, pushes his shorts down and draws out his cock. My mouth waters again as he strokes that hard length, his big fist running up and down in slow, even motions. Then he straddles me, guiding his hard-on to my mouth. His musk floods my senses. “Beg me for it.”
I shudder. “Please.”
The head of his cock touches my lips. Salty. Bittersweet. I lick at it, and he groans. “Oh yeah. Suck it, baby.”
His words, his taste, the feel of his cock in my mouth trigger shocks of pleasure that travel down my spine. His hand clamps hard on my wrists, holding them fast over my head, and I whimper, liking this. Liking this way too much. Heat blooms inside me, flooding my core, and my hips tilt, looking for friction.
His heavy cock slips deeper into my mouth, and I choke a little. He pulls back and I suck on him, loving the way my lips slide over his hard shaft, the silky skin and the thick vein beating underneath, against my tongue.
“Damn…” His head tips forward, his eyes closing. He lets go of his cock, the roll of his hips pushing it in and drawing it out. His hand caresses my face, traces my lips that are stretched around his considerably girth, and another groan escapes him. “This is so fucking hot.”
Hot is how I feel. Pressure is building inside me, and I clamp my legs together, spikes of pleasure tearing through me. I play with my tongue on the underside of his cock, under the head, lapping at his precum, salt and Storm’s spice, and oh God, I’m going to come from giving head.
Is that a thing? Does it happen to other girls?
Can’t think straight. Not when every nerve on my body feels alive, when the first pulses of an orgasm that will rip me apart are starting deep inside me. When he moans my name and rocks faster, the drag of my lips on his cock harsher.
Suddenly, he pulls out all the way. “Inside you,” he whispers, his voice hoarse. “I want you to ride me, Ray.”
Poised on the edge of orgasm, I stare at him, willing my brain to resume function. He was so close to comi
ng, I felt it on my tongue. His cock is swollen huge and twitching, glistening, bobbing against his flat stomach. As I watch, more precum leaks from the small slit at the top and trickles down the sides.
Just the sight of that might be enough to push me over the edge. I need to come. I reach between my legs to ease the throbbing pressure, but Storm has other ideas. He pushes my hand away, then tears my blouse and shorts off me.
“Finally.” He grins wolfishly at me, licks his lips. “You should never wear clothes, baby.”
“Then we’d never get out of bed,” I whisper.
“I like the idea.” He fumbles with his shorts and pulls out a foil. He tears it open and rolls a condom on. He settles back on the couch, one leg hanging off, the other stretching until it nudges me. He’s holding the base of his cock with one hand, his gaze heavy-lidded. “Come here and ride me. You’re gonna make me come so hard, baby. I won’t last long.”
A thrill pierces me. The thought of feeling him, seeing him come undone never fails to excite me. It’s a strange reversal of roles, I think—me on top, taking control—but I realize my mistake the moment I straddle him. His hands are on my hips, lifting me, then lowering me. His mouth fastens on my nipple, sucking it in, making me cry out. The tip of his cock pushes into me, slowly, and I’m so wet it slips inside easily. He controls my descent on his pelvis, on his hardness.
He’s still the one in control.
I shake as I take him in, inch by impressive inch. Damn, he’s big. I bite my lip to stop myself from crying out again as his rubs on my inner walls, a delicious, never-ending slither. He’s watching me, always watching, his hands clamped hard on my hips, keeping it slow and even. His chest is rising and falling rapidly, his breath whistling out of his parted lips. His eyes are focused between my legs, where we are joined, and the muscles in his stomach contract, his cock twitching inside me.
More and more of him pushes into me. Too much. He’s too big. I can’t… My eyes burn—not from pain but from the overwhelming fullness.
I feel like my heart will burst.
“Storm…” My voice hitches. “It’s…”
Not sure what I want to say. I don’t want him to stop. I want all of him.
