His fingers thrust into me as he gives my clit suction, pulling at it, and launching me even closer to my next orgasm. “Fuck me Ryatt. I don’t want to wait anymore.”
He shakes his head against my pussy, his beard scratching my heated, swollen lips. I hiss through my teeth as he keeps sucking at my bud and thrusting his fingers up. I know the second he hits my G-spot because it feels as though an electrical current ran straight through me. I sit bolt upright, grip his hair, and tug. He follows, the smile on his face is elacious as he comes eye level with me. There’s chocolate, whipped cream, and our cumall over his face. It’s even lining the tips of his eye lashes and he doesn’t even care. Instead he licks his lips and stares down at me.
“I said, fuck me, Ryatt. Now, if you could take that amazing cock of yours and slam home, I’d appreciate it.” I say through gritted teeth.
“Yes, ma’am,” he says with a chuckle when I let go of his hair.
“What if I just…” He ducks down as if he’s going to go back in for another feast until I slam my legs shut.
“It’s either dick or no more pussy for you mister.”
His eyebrow quirks as a dopey smile hooks on one side. “I like this feisty, take charge side of you Berry. Don’t you lose that when you wake up tomorrow.”
His large hands grip my knees and for the first time I notice how dark his complexion is against mine. Where I’m a pale, rosy red tone, he’s this darker, olive tan. The veins along his hands protrude as he pushes on my legs, begging to be let back in.
My knees fall and he steps between them, gripping my hips and sliding me down to the edge of the table. He makes me feel tiny, as if my weight isn’t an issue, and he’s more than capable of handling it.
Ryatt slides his dick up and down my seam, dipping the tip in, and pulling it back out. Teasing me with it a little more each time, until he pushes a little more in, and I hook my feet behind his ass and push him all the way home.
He smirks. “So you’re done playing around, hmm?”
I quirk an eyebrow. “I was clearly done a few moments ago.” I chuckle as he attempts to pull out, but I hold him in. It’s not lost on me that he could easily break free.
“Well, I say I can get you off in the first five strokes or less.” There’s a challenge gleaming in his eyes, as if he wants to see if I’ll take the bet.
“Oh yeah? You think you’re that good at fucking?”
“Love making, and yes.” He thrusts tender and slow, drawing all the way out until only the tip is in, before he thrust home. We both moan, and I know that even he won’t make it that long either.
“Challenge accepted, but I up the wager, and say I can make you come right along with me.”
“You’re on.” He flattens his palm across my lower abdomen and pushes down until it feels as though he’s holding me down in the weirdest way. It’s not until he thrusts the first time that I know what’s happening.
“Fuck,” I yelp as that first build up hits. But I was ready for it my part of the game. Kegel exercises for the win. I clench down on him as if I never want to let him out again.
Now it’s his turn to curse and drop his head down. Yeah buddy two can play this game.
He thrusts three more times and we are both sweating, panting, and determined not to come first. That dark hair of his is dangling down across his forehead, wet with sweat as he looks down at me.
“You ready?” He asks between gritted teeth.
I nod my head furiously because this is going to be one of hell of an orgasm. His thrust is deep, hard, and rocking as I explode.
“Oh my fucking God Ryatt!” I pant as he rocks slowly, pushing the orgasm to keep gong. “Oh. Oh. Oh.” I can’t stop pulsing. It’s as if each gush of his cum is pushing another wave of my own orgasm. He still hasn’t moved his hand from my stomach, and I’m half tempted to beg for him to do.
Is death by orgasm a thing? Should I be worried?
He finally comes to a stop, his head hanging between his shoulders. “That…” he pants. “Was the best sex of my life.”
I snort. “Okay, you don’t have to flatter me.” I lightly smack his shoulder. He already got laid, no need to lay it on thick.
He doesn’t laugh or move. No, instead he glares at me as his smile fades instantly. The air is thick between us, crackling with tension. The teasing glint in his eyes hardens into something deeper, something that causes me to suck in my breath.
Why’s he only looking at me—really looking at me—almost like he can’t believe the words that came out of my mouth.
The playful, easy going Ryatt I know vanishes, replaced by a man who is carved from restrained fury and disbelief.
“Flatter you?” His voice drops low and rough, a rumble of barely restrained emotion. His hands glide up my stomach, cupping my breasts, before he pinches my nipple. I hiss through clenched teeth as I stare at him.
