She holds the condom poised at my tip, letting my pre-cum slick the latex, while her other hand still works my shaft in lazy, maddening pulls.
God. Jess. Jess. Jess.
Her eyes lock on mine, dark and fevered, as she leans forward. Her breath ghosts over me, hot and damp, and for a wild second, I think she’ll use her mouth. Instead, she presses a soft kiss to the head, tongue flicking out to taste me. A ragged curse escapes me.
My hips jerk involuntarily.
If she does that again, I’m done.
“Jess,” I warn, voice strangled.
She smiles against my skin, all heat and sin.
Finally, she pinches the reservoir tip between her fingers, her movements agonizingly slow. She guides the latex down, her touch feather-light, torturous. Her thumb grazes the vein throbbing along my length, and I swear my knees buckle. Pre-cum leaks freely now, making the condomglide easier.
But she doesn’t rush. She rolls it down with exquisite precision, her nails scraping lightly against my skin, her breath coming in shaky puffs that fan over my balls.
It’s torture. For both of us.
I’m panting, sweat beading my brow. Her pussy is right there, glistening and wet, and the scent of her is driving me insane. My cock jumps in her hand, desperate for friction, for release. Forher.
She feels it and her grip tightens, her thumb pressing into that tender spot beneath the head again. Stars burst behind my eyelids. I’m so fucking close, the pressure building like a storm in my gut. One more stroke, one more flick of her thumb...
“Almost there,” she whispers, her voice husky. Her hand moves to the base, smoothing the latex all the way down, her fingertips tracing the edge where it meets skin. Then she cups my balls, massaging gently, and I bite back a roar. My entire body tenses, every muscle coiled.
Then she releases me.
I exhale.
She’s looking up at me, her lips parted, her eyes glazed with need. “There. Was that sexy enough?”
For a heartbeat, I can’t move. Can’t fucking breathe. The condom feels like a second skin, her scent still on my cock, her heat radiating against me.
I’ve never been this close to losing it just from being touched.
Not ever.
With a hungry growl, I throw her back against the counter.
Then I position myself at her entrance. Feel her wet heat against mine. Just the tip. Not moving. Making her wait.
Like she made me wait.
“Marco.” It comes out as a plea.
“Tell me you’re mine,” I rasp.
“I’m yours,” she pleas.
My turn to grin wickedly. “Say it again.”
“I’m yours. Oh God, Marco, I’m yours. Please. Fuck me!”
I thrust in hard. One stroke. Filling her completely.
She cries out and her hands grip my shoulders. Nails digging in through my shirt. I force my prostrate to relax completely. It wouldn’t do to cum on the first thrust.
“Fuck you feel good.” I pull almost all the way out. Drive back in. Again, force my prostrate to relax, though my dick is harder than it’s ever been. “So tight. So perfect. Like you were made for my cock.”
