His mouth finds mine again, hungrier this time, and I melt into it. His taste—something smoky and warm—slides over my tongue and settles low in my belly and my fingers curl into the hair at his nape, tugging just enough to make him groan into my mouth. That sound shoots straight between my legs where I’m already soaked. I can feel it when his thigh presses harder, the rough denim scraping deliciously against my clit through the thin cotton of my yoga pants.
“Rafe,” I breathe against his lips, not even sure what I’m asking for, only that I need more of everything.
He answers by sliding both hands down to cup my ass, lifting me clean off the floor. My legs wrap around his waist on instinct, ankles locking, and the hard line of his cock grinds against meexactly where I’m aching. I whimper and he swallows the sound, kissing me like he’s trying to climb inside my skin.
The rug is soft under my back when he lowers us both, the fire’s heat licking at my side while the Christmas lights paint gold across his shoulders. He peels my shirt up slow enough that goosebumps chase his fingertips, then yanks it over my head and tosses it somewhere toward the tree. My bra follows seconds later, and the cool air tightens my nipples instantly. His mouth is on them before I can shiver, hot and wet and perfect, sucking hard enough that my back bows off the rug.
“God, these tits,” he mutters against my skin, tongue swirling. “Been thinking about them all fucking day.”
I’m tugging at his belt, clumsy with lust, and he laughs low against my breast. “Easy, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”
But I need him naked now, need to feel all that skin on mine, so I shove his shirt up and he helps by ripping it off. The firelight dances over the ridges of his stomach, the dark ink curling over his ribs, and I trace every line with greedy hands. He’s so warm, almost feverish, and when he settles between my thighs again I can feel how hard he is, thick and heavy against my hip.
He drags my pants and panties down in one slow tug, eyes locked on mine the whole time like he’s memorizing every inch he uncovers. When I’m bare he admires me for a long second, thumb brushing over the inside of my knee, then higher, until he’s spreading me open with both thumbs and groaning like he’s in pain.
“Jesus, Riley,” he rasps. “Look at this pretty pussy. So wet it’s shining. You’ve been thinking about me stretching you open, haven’t you?” His thumbs dip in and pull apart, and I shudderas he growls out a sound of desperation. I clench too, which only makes that pleasure sound stretch out longer.
Then my knees fall wider as I tell him, “All day.
He dives in, tongue lapping slow and filthy from entrance to clit, then back down again. “Taste so fucking sweet,” he murmurs against me. “Could eat you for hours.”
Two fingers push inside me easily, curling, stroking that spot that turns my spine to liquid. I fist the rug, moaning his name over and over while grinding my hips against his face. It's exquisite, every single sensation so intense I could detonate at any second.
“That’s it,” he praises, lips brushing my clit with every word. “Let me hear how good it feels when I tongue-fuck you.”
"Shit," I hiss, still grinding but now with my hand fisted in his hair, forcing his face closer. "Fuck me… Fucking eat me."
He works me right to the edge and stops, pulling his fingers free and sucking them clean while I watch, chest heaving. The loss is brutal; I actually whine aloud. "Fuck's sake, I was so close."
"I know… but you'll like this… Come on now."
"Ugh…" I arch my head back because he's moving now, ignoring my pleas for more.
“Turn over for me,” he growls, and the sound of his voice only intensifies my lust. “Want that gorgeous ass in the air. I wanna watch it take my cock.”
I roll without hesitation, rising up on my knees, cheek pressed to the soft wool. The position feels filthy and perfect and safe all at once. I hear the soft clink of his belt, the rustle of denim, beforeone boot thuds to the floor then the other, and when I look back he's on his knees stroking himself.
"God, your pussy is so hot when it clenches. Do it again," he orders, holding me open with one hand while I clamp down on nothing. Rafe's eyes drink it all in, and then he lines up and thrusts in hard.
I gasp, taking him fully, but it takes my breath too. His dick seats all the way to my back wall and I shudder at the sudden fullness and warmth. If he was touching my clit I would explode on him, and I almost do anyway.
"God, you're so thick," I grumble and touch myself. The sensations bring me right to the edge instantly.
"Yeah, and you're so fucking wet… Come on, sweetheart, let go. Let me feel that pussy pulse on my dick."
His words push me over the edge as he starts thrusting. Every shudder draws more moans from my mouth, and my body convulses, hips pumping as wave after wave of glorious ecstasy rolls through me.
I hear the filthy wet sounds his body makes with mine, then the snick of the lube bottle before cool moisture drizzles down my crack, and I shiver, but his hands are warm when they spread me open again.
One finger circles my tight hole gently then presses in slowly. The stretch burns sweet, and I push back for more before I can stop myself. His hips keep pumping, driving his hard cock into my body and dragging across every nerve ending I own.
“Fuck, listen to you,” he breathes, adding a second finger, scissoring carefully. “Already begging with that little hole. You love this, don’t you? Love when I open up this perfect ass.”
“Yes,” I gasp. “Love it—love when you fill me everywhere.”
He groans and keeps thrusting, crooking his fingers until sparks shoot up my spine. “Hear how wet you are? That greedy pussy’s dripping down your thighs just from me playing with your ass.”
I'm going cross eyed, still playing with my clit as my body builds toward another orgasm, and I'm not even shy as I beg, "Fuck my ass, Rafe… Just do it."
