I lift my head to look at his bedside clock. Four a.m. And it’s Sunday, so we can sleep in, and I can fuck him all day if I want to.
And that’s exactly what I’m gonna do.
Inching closer until I’m pressed up against him, I slip my hand over his hip, running my fingers over the defined V, until his cock is in my hand. Even when flaccid, it’s not small; he’s a shower, not a grower. There’s a pleasurable soreness between my legs, and I want him to wake up so he can exacerbate it in fifty different ways. So I give him a gentle, almost experimental stroke. He murmurs something unintelligible, and I grin when he twitches in my hands, giving the back of his neck a soft kiss, the kind that makes the hair on the back ofmyneck stand up in a good way when someone does it to me.
He gets so wonderfully rock hard so quickly, and I know the exact moment he’s fully awake because he lets out the sexiest groan I’ve ever heard, crooking his arm behind his head to stroke my face and my hair. It’s heady, having such obvious and potent power over him. Having him entirely submit to me, mine to do with as I please.
He stills. “You’re naked,” he says in a tight voice. It’s not a question.
“I am,” I agree blithely. But my teasing tone gives way to a startled, laughing squeak as he flips over and drags me underneath him. The room is dark, but his eyes are darker as he lifts up and takes me in, taking his time about it and wetting his lips. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his voice aching and reverent. “You’ve always been the most beautiful woman in the world to me, but this…I don’t know the right words.” Running his fingertip with the gentlest touch from my hairline, down the middle of my forehead, over my nose, lips, and chin, andbetween my breasts, he makes me really believe the words he just spoke. He seems fascinated by my nipple piercings, rolling his finger over one of the rings over and over. “Let me have you again,” he says, somewhere between a command and a plea. “Please.”
Huh. From the way my pussy twitches in an involuntary kegel, I guess I have a Leo-begging-to-fuck-me kink. So I answer him by wrapping my legs around his waist and pulling his hair hard enough to make him gasp. He checks my eyes, just to be absolutely sure, so I nod happily.
And it’s on.
He takes his time with every inch of my skin, kissing and tasting every part of my neck, my breasts, my stomach, like I’m being savoured. The way his beard abrades my skin kicks everything up a notch, and by the time he settles between my thighs, parting my nether lips with his thumbs and torturing me with the perfect combination of reverent flat tongued tasting of me and torturous flicks a snake would be proud of, I’m a sweating, whimpering mess of a human. All I can do is lie here and endure the sensations exploding through me, my eyes screwed up, my breath coming in fitful pants as I’m sent crazy by it.
I think I’m being treated to everything he’s ever wanted to do to me, and I’m fairly sure I’m going to burst into a million shards any second now, but fine, let it happen, all I care about is the high, the raging climax that’s surely a mere breath away…surely…
But he keeps me there, trapped in the moments just before orgasm, in a prison I’m both desperate to break out of and don’t ever want to leave. I’m going mad. I can’t cope much more. I don’t do this. I’m not the type of woman to just lie there and take it in bed. I’m a very active participant, taking charge more often than not, but…
“OH, JESUS, FUCK, PLEASE,” I shout at the top of my lungs, unable to take it anymore.
He starts fucking me with his fingers, giving my clit the most evil suck before looking up at me, his eyes like dark volcanoes, his smile a thing of pure sin. “What’s Jesus got to do with anything?” he growls playfully, fully intent on torturing me some more, not letting up for a second. “You’ve been driving me crazy for years, woman. It’s high time you had some goddamn fucking payback.” And he bends his head again.
He knows exactly how to push me to my limit while stopping just short of sending me over the edge. A few times I think he’s finally going to release me from this white hot feeling, but he always slows his licks just in time, or changes the rhythm of his fingers, enough to keep me howling but not enough to let me come. And that bastard just makes low, sensual grumbles of pleasure likehe’sthe one this is for, not me.
Finally, I find the wherewithal to grab handfuls of his hair and pull hard, not caring that I’m hurting him,wantingto give him pain. He lets out a sharp grunt, his eyes wild as they look up at me, but mine are wilder. “I’ll kill you,” I threaten through gritted teeth, meaning it.
“Go ahead,” he taunts, his fingers…still…fucking…moving…
I pull harder, and I can see it’s agony, but he refuses to cry out, refuses to give in. My hips start juddering, entirely beyond my control, and he tries to hold them still, but I don’t think anything could. Frantic by now, I damn near crush my pussy against his mouth, and he finally, oh fuck,finallysees that I’m way past my limits of endurance and control.
And it begins.
Starting from my clit and spreading out through my veins and nervous system like delicious fire, he finally lets me climb higher until I’m coming almost painfully hard, throbbing and straining, my whole body tight as a bow string…
…and then I’m boneless, sinking slowly back down to earth.
But I don’t let myself enjoy the fall. I want revenge. I want him to feel every scrap of what I just went through, with interest for being such an evil genius.
Shoving at his shoulders, I push him back onto the bed and climb atop him, holding his wrists down with strength I didn’t know I had. His face is unapologetic, smug, and I’m going to wipe that look off it if it’s the last thing I do. With infuriating ease, he fights his wrists out of my grasp and grabs the back of my neck, pulling me towards him for a kiss. I snap my teeth at him, and he grins, unperturbed, so I bite his lower lip as hard as I can. He gives a strangled gasp, and I strike, rubbing my soaking wet core over his iron hard cock until I notch his helmet inside me and slam down. His eyes roll back in his head, and he turns towards where my hands are braced in the dip of his shoulders so he can softly sink his teeth into my wrist, but it’s not enough. His reaction. He’s not yelling and desperate and threatening to kill me yet, so it’s nowhere near enough.
I ride him like my life depends on it, being vicious, watching him strain and sweat and grit his teeth, his head thrown back, his eyes clenched shut just like mine were. But there’s a flip side. The price I’m paying for torturing him with pleasure is that my own is rising, faster than I can cope with. I try to bite back my rasping breaths, because I won’t give him the satisfaction of capitulating when it’shis fucking turn, but once again, he turns the tables on me. Grabbing my hips to hold me still, he fucks upwards, slamming into me hard and fast, over and over again, until he’s fucking the soul out of me, and at last we’re on equal footing. Both gasping. Both grunting. Both powerless in the face of what the other is doing.
My second orgasm is long and exhausting, pulling at the very heart of me so hard that once again it almost hurts, and all I canfeel is grateful that he’s also thrashing and bowed almost double, clutching at my flesh for dear life, for an anchor in the chaos.
“Fucking gotcha,” I snarl as I collapse on top of him, limp and unable to move anymore.
Sonofabitch, he chuckles, though to be fair it’s barely a huff of his breath. “From day one,” he replies, matching my tone, “you fucking slowpoke.”
The second timeI wake up, it’s because he’s kissing my face, his lips gentle but firm. I enjoy the peace I feel, and the way his hands stroke my body up and down, neck to knee, over my breasts and hips.
“Are you sore?” he asks. I nod. “Good.”
I burst out laughing, rubbing my eyes. “Charming.”
He grins, and this Leo, one hundred percent happy Leo, is a sight that could become highly addictive. “Like you weren’t giving it right back to me last night.”
