I’ve wanted this for so fucking long. I can’t actually believe it’s happening.
Happy fucking birthday to me.
Giselle rocks above me in a steady rhythm, sweet gasps escaping from her lips every time she hits the hard bud of her clit against my pubic bone.
If she isn’t fucking careful, I’ll be coming in my underwear like an inexperienced teenager.
Wrapping my hands around the ladder of her ribcage, I flip us over until she’s beneath me, putting me in control.
Palming one of her inner thighs that cradle my upper body, I spread her legs wider, leaning down to plant a line of kisses along the waistband of her lacy underwear, down her warm flesh to the inside of her knee.
I follow the same pattern on her other leg, peering through my lashes to gauge her reaction.
Those electric blue eyes of hers crash into mine – watching my every move.
I catalogue to memory the long, dark, glossy sheet of her hair. The way it’s splayed out around her head, a startling colour against the white of her pillow. I drink in the sight of her hands cupping and massaging her tits, the tilt of her lips as if she’s biting back a smirk.
If I’m not mistaken, I think Giselle rather likes the sight of me in between her legs.
Hooking my fingers into the waistband of her underwear, I savour the feel of her soft skin beneath my fingertips, cocking an eyebrow as I wait for her answer.
“I thought you only wanted a kiss.”
“I do,” I say, hearing the smug tone of my voice.
“I—”
“I never said which set of lips.”
A choked laugh splutters out of Giselle. Even from this angle, I can see the way she rolls her eyes at my ridiculousness.
“Tell me I can taste you, Giselle. Please.”
“I never took you as a man who begs, Hudson Millen.”
“I don’t. Usually.” I lick my lips, mouth watering at the knowledge I’m inches away from Giselle’s pussy. “But I’ve been fucking dying for a taste of you since I first laid my eyes on you. Don’t tell me you don’t feel the same. Don’t tell me you haven’t dreamed about choking on my cock.”
Giselle’s eyes flash, that pretty pink blush of hers crawling down her neck.
“Hm?” I prompt. “Are you going to lie to me and tell me you haven’t thought about it, Giselle?”
Wordlessly, she shakes her head against the pillow. “Only bad girls lie, Hudson.”
“Oh, so I don’t have a bad girl on my hands?”
She pauses for a heartbeat, thinking about her answer.
“Only if you want me to be.”
Fuck.
That’s it.
Feeling pre-cum leak from my tip and smear against my lower stomach as the tip of my cock peeks out from the waistband of my black boxers, I lower my lips to the top of Giselle’s cloth covered pussy and press a gentle kiss there.
The sweet hitch of her breath only further stokes my ego.
Keeping my eyes locked on Giselle’s, I slowly peel her underwear away from her body, not missing the way the material sticks to the centre of her. When her knickers get tangled around her calves, Giselle raises both of her legs in the air without a tremble, showcasing the limberness of her body as she kicks the lace somewhere over the side of the bed.
