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My kiss brings him to life, and the cool-guy façade is gone. He sits up, lifting his head from the back of the couch. He’s the first to move, increasing the pressure by parting his lips, adding fuel to my already burning desire for him.
Our tongues meet, our chests press together, and our arms wrap around each other. We’re connected in every possible way, but I want more. I need more. I rock my hips against his hard cock. He bites on my lip and guides me, his hands on my ass.
It feels like we kiss for three seconds and three years because I’ve lost all sense of time. All I know is when I break away to gasp for air, my jaw is sore, and my skin is raw from his scruff.
“Zeke,” I pant as he kisses my neck and sucks my earlobe into his mouth. The hairs on his lip tickle my ear, and I dissolve into a fit of laughter. I recoil with a shriek.
He rocks back, grinning and pushing my hair from my cheeks. “No earlobe, then?”
“Not if you’re angling to fuck,” I say, and he startles back at my words.
“Are you angling to fuck?” he asks, and I purse my lips. “All I asked for was a kiss, you pervert.”
I whack his chest, and he catches my hands, pulling me forward until our mouths crash together again, picking up exactly where they left off. I’m consumed by the need to become part of him, to absorb him into me.
I kiss him with fervour, biting down on his lip and grinding into him, the tension building in my body. I’m so tired of getting myself off that the pressure of his dick against me, even through his pants, is enough to send full shots of lightning through my body. I whimper into his mouth, which is new for me.
“You want to come?” he asks, squeezing my thighs.
“So badly,” I say before I have any sense to be embarrassed about it.
He shifts under me, lifting me to my feet and spinning me around. “Sit,” he says, tugging my hips so I’m sitting between his legs.
“What’s happening?” I ask as I relax into his chest and rest my head on his shoulder.
“I’m going to make you come. That’s what’s happening.”
The heat hits my skin as his breathy words send shivers along my body. I grip his knees as he explores my body with a series of hard squeezes on my thighs and feathery touches up my sides.
I close my eyes, lean wholly into him and let him navigate my body like he’s been doing it for years. This position is new, and I feel exposed but also worshipped. He doesn’t go straight for my tits or between my legs. He massages my thighs, runs his fingertips along my arms, and trails kisses along the side of my neck.
“You are seriously the most beautiful woman,” he whispers against my skin, slipping his hands up my shirt.
I arch my back to get his hands on me. He’s driving me to the edge of my sanity, and right before I speak up, he finally wiggles his fingers under the waist of my leggings and down between my legs. Everything is heightened, and my jaw goes slack as he finds my clit.
“Oh my God,” I moan.
“You like it?” His voice goes gravelly and low.
I nod. I feel very on display sitting like this, and my legs and arms tense as the pleasure builds. His strokes on my clit are faster, circles tighter.
“Relax,” he says, and just as I do, he slides his fingers in with long slow thrusts before going back to my clit. His other hand is inside the collar of my tank top, under my bra, and he rolls my nipple between his fingers.
I whimper again, the intensity of finally having his hands on me again in the way I’ve craved them.
“There you go.” He groans as I rock my hips against his hand. “Come for me.”
The connection between my mind and body is driven by the rumble in his chest, and the movements of his hands are a perfect storm. I’ve been directing so much pent-up lust at him for months now that I spill faster than usual, panting out my orgasm while he mutters dirty things in my ear.
The thing about all this energy is it’s not all satisfied at once. I have to get out two or three before my body feels relaxed and ready to move on. I assume he’ll stop, but he doesn’t.
I crane my neck to the side to look at him. He’s grinning, his eyes hungrily taking in the sight of me. He doesn’t stop touching me, and I feel it all begin to build again.
“Go for another?” he asks.
I tip up to awkwardly kiss him in our position. His hand slides up from my breast to my neck, and he gently takes my chin in his hand, like a pseudo-choke. The way he pins me drives me wild, and another orgasm surges through me.
“That was fast,” he says, pulling his hand from my pants and rubbing his fingers together. Another pregnancy perk: extra lube.
