“David,” I groaned.
“I love it when you say my name,” he responded through gritted teeth.
“David,” I repeated. He yanked my panties aside and licked the length of me. “Oh, David,” I said again. Holding me wide open, he inserted his tongue and ate me like a man starving. He’d gone down on me before, but not like this. I bucked into the couch, throwing my head back and moaning as he fucked me with his tongue. He thrust his fingers inside, withdrawing every few seconds to rub my wetness over me. When I was burning with a need for release, and so close to grasping it, he spoke against me.
“Ready for me?” he rumbled, even though I clearly was.
“Yes,” I cried.
“Tell me.”
“I’m so wet for you, David,” I said, writhing as his fingers worked inside of me. “Stop. Please. I’m going to come.”
“Why should I stop?” he taunted.
“Because I want you to fuck me.”
He chuckled. “You love getting fucked, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I breathed. “Only by you.”
He withdrew in an instant and dragged my panties off. “I’ll fuck you, and you’ll come on my cock like you want, baby. Grab your heels.”
I grabbed the spiky stilettos in both hands and spread my legs. His massive body moved over mine. He propped himself up with one arm and took his shaft in his other hand to rub his crown through my wetness.
“I’ve missed you,” I cried, the words falling passionately from my mouth. “Please.”
He drove into me, forcing the breath from my lungs. “I missed you, too,” he said, looking down between us. His jaw clenched as he withdrew slowly. His hands on both sides of my body gripped the couch as I whimpered, pulling on my shoes.
“Christ, Olivia.” He rolled his hips again, leisurely this time, until he was rooted deeply inside me. “Tell me how it feels.”
“Heaven,” I breathed, jutting my hips upward. “More.”
He grunted, and my body shook with the next plunge.
“Harder,” I demanded. “Give it to me, David.”
He reared back and drove into me again and again, giving it to me the way I’d asked for—hard, without mercy.
“God, you can fuck me,” I cried. “Just you, baby, you know how to fuck me and—” I gasped as his one hand moved to my clit and began to move in small circles.
He leaned closer without slowing his rhythm so our faces were almost touching. “And?”
“You’re the only one who’s ever made me come.”
He growled. “Theonlyone,” he repeated. “And the only one who ever will.”
“Yes,” I cried. “Just you. Please,” I begged. “Don’t stop.”
“Hold on to those fucking heels.” He gave me a hard thrust and pinned me to the couch, harnessing our sexual tension and driving into me until I vibrated with it.
My insides tightened and coiled into a pulsating knot of pressure. I clenched my teeth and yelped when a heel broke off in my hand.
He exhaled heavily and, without disconnecting, picked me up in one quick motion. I kicked off my shoes as he tossed a few pillows on the floor by the fire. He sat carefully with me in his lap and lay back so I was astride him.
I settled my knees on either side of him and lifted up to sink down slowly. “Oh, my, God,” I said, closing my eyes. I drew up and released myself onto him again, this time all the way. His long fingers yanked down the cups of my bra, freeing my breasts so they were trussed up. I began to rock over him, moaning as we aligned. I blindly gripped his shoulders as if I’d fall into oblivion if I let go. He broke my rocking motion by thrusting up to meet me, taking over, even from underneath, bouncing me forward with each surge of his hips.
The room filled with the sinuous sounds of our satisfaction. His hands found my hips and maneuvered me against his steel cock harder, forcing me to bear down on him until I couldn’t contain my cries. He braced me as he hit me as deep as he could, my fingers digging deeper into his skin as I whimpered.
