I want something different. Something that’s the total opposite of what I’m used to.
My hands move roughly up her sides, yanking her blouse from her skirt. I stifle a growl as my palms graze bare skin. I’ve never felt anything this soft in my life, and I draw in a slow breath to clear my head. I kiss her again, needing to taste her. My hands keep moving, savoring her smooth flesh until my fingertips graze the lace at the edges of her breasts.
She gasps as I flick open her bra clasp with one hand, and I worry I’ve gone too far when she draws back.
Her lashes flutter as she blinks at me and tries to focus on my eyes. “I should take off my skirt so it doesn’t wrinkle.”
I skim my palms under her bra cups and test the weight of her breasts in my hands. She gives a soft moan, and I swear we both lose our train of thought.
My thumbs skim her nipples, and her eyes go wide again. I hold her gaze with mine, willing myself to form a coherent thought.
“Do you always take off your clothes for sex?” I ask.
She bites her lip. “I guess—I never thought about it.”
“Then leave them on. Everything. Even your shoes.”
Lisa blinks then glances down at her red-soled stilettos. Her fingers trace the pearl choker at her neck, and she nods slowly. “Yes,” she whispers. “Clothes on. I want it like that.”
“You want what?”
I’m pretty sure I know, but I want to hear her say it. Want her to be clear about what she’s asking for, what she needs.
“I want you inside me.” She blinks, startled by her own words. That makes two of us.
Then a slow smile tips the edges of her mouth, like a kid with her first taste of ice cream. She grabs hold of my waistband and leans close so her lips brush my earlobe. “Dax,” she whispers like she’s not sure how to say the words out loud. “Do me with my clothes on, please.”
My dick lunges like it’s trying to ram its way through my zipper, and it takes every ounce of self-control I own to give a measured response. “Yes, ma’am.”
As Lisa plants slow kisses in a path behind my ear, I stroke my thumbs over her nipples. She shudders in my hands as I release those gorgeous tits and inch my hands down her stomach. I keep going, gliding up her skirt and dipping the tips of my fingers into her panties. They’re a lacy wisp and probably expensive. I push the fabric aside and stroke inside her, groaning when I feel how wet she is.
“Christ,” I growl against her mouth. “How did that happen?”
Her giggle turns to a groan as I graze her clit with my knuckle. “You,” she gasps. “You did it to me.”
I keep doing it, skimming the pad of my thumb over her clit while my index and middle finger move inside her. She responds by fucking my hand, slowly at first, then with increasing intensity.
Her hips move like they have a mind of their own. She tilts back, arching against me with her eyes closed. “Oh my God, that feels amazing.”
My thumb strokes her clit again, and I’m rewarded with another moan. She’s moving faster now, her body tense and coiled. We’ve hardly gotten started, and I can already tell she’s close. Her eyes are closed, lips parted, her body tight like a bow.
“That’s it,” I murmur, kissing her throat. “Ride my hand. Show me how you like it.”
She obeys, hips moving to a rhythm only she can hear. I can feel it, though, bubbling up inside her as she rocks and writhes and pants on my lap. “Oh God!”
The orgasm seems to surprise her, and her eyes snap open, blazing green and wild. I clamp one hand on her hip, driving my fingers into her as I strum her clit. She pumps her hips, arching against me as she cries out and comes so hard that I’m trembling with it.
Then she collapses against my chest, panting like she just ran a mile. A few seconds pass before she opens her eyes and leans back to give me a sheepish look. “Sorry. Let me just grab some tissues so you can?—”
“No.” I slide my hand back, fingers slippery from being inside her. As she watches, I draw one finger into my mouth. Her lips part in shock as I suck deeply, tasting her sweetness.
“You’re delicious,” I tell her. “So fucking hot.”
She stares at me like no man has ever said this to her before. How is that possible? She’s squirming against me, moving like she’s ready to go again.
“Please, Dax.” She wriggles against me, fucking me through my clothes.
“Please what?”
