I lost track of time, of reason, of the world around us.
There was nothing outside of her and the need consuming us both.
I breathed out a curse when she eventually, slowly dragged her lips from around me, her gaze lifting and staying fixed on mine the entire time.
“Is this thedevotionyou had in mind?” she asked with an innocent flutter of her lashes.
I stared down at her in a daze. At her wet, glistening mouth. At the way her breasts pressed together to form such a tempting valley in between, and the way her head tilted, as if truly questioning if this was what I’d needed.
As if she didn’t fucking know.
The temptation to drive deep into her throat once more was nearly overwhelming.
Instead, I pulled her back to her feet, guiding her hand to my length, closing it over the slickness she’d created.
While she stroked, I reached around to the clasp holding her dress in place, undoing it.
I removed that dress—and everything underneath—slowly, savoring the sight being unveiled; I imagined this was how sculptors felt when they freed the figure of their dreams from a canvas of precious stone. She was a godsdamned work of art, and it was tempting to just stand and stare at her.
But I needed more than that.
“Back on your knees,” I ordered as I finished undressing myself.
She knelt eagerly on her discarded dress, and this time I knelt with her, pushing her forward onto her hands and sliding my cock between her legs. I was painfully hard by that point. I needed to be inside of her. To feel her clenching around me as I filled her.
But I took my time, dragging my throbbing length over her sensitive folds, occasionally sliding my hand between her legs as well.
“How wet can we make you?” I wondered aloud.
She only moaned in response.
I gave her clit a gentle pinch. “Should we find out?”
This time, she reached for my hand in answer, pressing it more firmly against her as she rose up and sank backwards into my lap.
I held her hip to help her balance. My other hand stayed tangled with the one she had between her legs, encouraging her to keep using me, to keep touching herself exactly the way she wanted to. “Go on,” I breathed against her ear. “Get yourself nice and ready for me.”
She didn’t need any more coaxing than that; she took more control, using not only our hands but her hips, grinding against my lap with increasingly desperate movements.
Before long, I felt my own control slipping. I bent her forward onto her hands once more, dragging my fingertips along her spine as I positioned myself behind her, and then I grabbed her thighs and spread them wider.
Her entire body trembled. “Aleks,please?—”
I slammed into her before she could finish.
I don’t think I could have waited another second.
Her back arched as I gripped her hips and pushed deeper, words spilling from her mouth that were mostly unintelligible, save for one:Yes.
Yes.
Yes.
I slipped a hand around her throat. A gentle squeeze, and she gasped and arched more fully, pulling me even deeper inside.
I kept one hand bracketed around her throat. The other clutched her shoulder as I leaned back slightly, giving me the leverage I needed to drive harder. Faster.
There was nothing gentle about either of our movements any longer.
