Then he was kissing me, deep and hungry, tongue thrusting into my mouth like he owned it, claiming every inch. I kissed him back with the same urgency, moaning into the wet slide of our lips, my fingers finding his hair and yanking him closer, nails scraping his scalp. His grip tightened on my hips, lifting me effortlessly until my ass hit the edge of the table.
“I have missed you,” he said between kisses, his teeth nipping at my lower lip, drawing a sharp sting that made me gasp. “So much. It’s been too long since I’ve touched you. Felt this pussy clench around my fingers.”
“Way too long,” I agreed breathlessly, my chest heaving as I ground against him, feeling the rough fabric of his pants rub my clit through my panties. “Like, what? Five whole days?”
“An eternity.” He growled the words. I wrapped my legs around his waist, legs hooking behind him, pulling him flush so his erection nudged right at my core. The hard length of him ground against me through our clothes, the pressure making my panties soak instantly, and I moaned into his mouth, the sound muffled by his tongue. We were still kissing, frantic and heated, saliva mixing as we devoured each other, making up for days of tension and fighting and needing each other.
His mouth left mine to trail down my neck, hot and open-mouthed, teeth grazing the sensitive spot below my ear until I shivered, goosebumps racing over my arms. My hips rocked against him instinctively, chasing that delicious friction, my clit pulsing with need.
“Fuck,” he groaned against my throat, the vibration rumbling through me, his hands sliding up to squeeze my ass, spreading my cheeks through the dress. “I want you so badly. Want to bury my dick in you right here, fuck you until you can’t walk straight.”
“Which book was that from?” My voice came out husky, demanding, my fingers clawing at his shirt buttons.
“No book, just me.” He made a rough sound, animalistic, and laid me down on the table we were just using to discuss our future with the most important people in Lytopia. All I could focus on right now was the hunger in his eyes. His weight settled over me, one hand braced beside my head, caging me in, the other sliding up my thigh beneath my dress, calluses rough on my smooth skin, pushing the fabric higher until cool air hit my damp thighs.
“These are in the way,” I said, tugging at his clothes desperately, popping buttons that pinged across the floor.
“Everything is in the way.” He yanked my dress up and over my head in one swift motion, the zipper straining, then ripped his own clothes open, exposing his broad chest dusted with hair that I wanted to rake my nails through.
We stripped each other frantically, clothes being removed with zero care for where they landed or if they survived the process. His belt buckle clinked as I fumbled it open, pants shoved downhis thighs along with his underwear, his cock springing free, thick, the head already glistening with pre-cum. My bra snapped under his impatient fingers, panties torn aside with a rip that echoed. Fabric tore elsewhere too, his shirt sleeve splitting at the seam. We’d worry about it later; right now, the only thing that mattered was skin on skin.
Finally bare, the heat of his chest pressed against my breasts, nipples hardening instantly against the coarse hair there. His hands roamed over me, calloused palms rough against my skin in the best way, tracing the curve of my waist, squeezing my hips. He cupped my breast, thumb circling my nipple until it peaked, and I arched into him with a gasp, the pull shooting straight to my core.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said, his gaze dark as it traveled down my body, lingering on my spread thighs, the slick folds of my pussy exposed and waiting. “So perfect. I will never get tired of looking at you. This body... fuck, it’s all mine.”
“Less talking, more touching.” I reached down, wrapping my hand around his cock, stroking the hot, velvety length, feeling it twitch in my grip, a bead of pre-cum smearing over my palm.
He smiled against my neck, teeth nipping the pulse point. “Bossy.”
“You like it.” I pumped him harder, thumbing the slit, making him hiss.
“I fuckingloveit.” His voice dropped an octave, possessive.
His mouth replaced his hand on my breast, tongue swirling around my nipple before sucking it between his lips with a pullthat made my toes curl. I cried out, the sound sharp in the empty room, my fingers digging into his shoulders, leaving crescent marks. He lavished the other breast with the same attention, licking, sucking, teeth grazing just enough to sting, while his hand slid lower, over my stomach, fingers splaying wide before dipping between my thighs.
His fingers found my pussy and I inhaled sharply at the contact, the rough pads parting my folds, slick with my arousal. He stroked through them, spreading the wetness he found there, coating his digits, and made a low, appreciative sound against my throat, the rumble vibrating my skin.
“So wet for me,” he murmured, voice thick with lust, two fingers plunging in knuckle-deep without warning, stretching me. “Always so ready. This pussy drips for my touch, doesn’t it? Clenching already.”
“Always for you,” I managed, my hips lifting toward his touch, fucking myself on his fingers as he curled them inside, hitting that spongy spot that made stars burst behind my eyelids.
He pumped his two fingers inside me, scissoring them to open me wider, the squelch of my juices obscene. His thumb found my clit, swollen and throbbing, circling slowly with firm pressure, and I nearly came off the table, my back bowing, a whine escaping my lips. The dual assault had me trembling, walls fluttering around the invasion.
“Mal,” I gasped, my voice breaking, hands fisting the edges of the table until my knuckles whitened. “Please. I need you inside me.”
“Since you asked so nicely.” He withdrew his fingers with a wet pop, bringing them to his mouth and sucking them clean, eyes locked on mine, the sight filthy and possessive. Then he positioned himself at my entrance, the thick head of him pressing against my hole, nudging my folds apart, teasing with shallow dips that made me whimper.
And then he pushed inside in one smooth thrust, bottoming out with a groan that matched mine. We both groaned at the sensation, the stretch of him filling me completely, his girth splitting me open, the way he fit inside me like he was made for this, for me, veins dragging along my walls. My pussy clenched around him instinctively, sucking him deeper, juices easing the slide but making everything slick and messy.
“Holy hell,” he breathed, his forehead dropping to mine, sweat beading on his brow. Our breaths mingled, hot and panting. “You feel incredible. So tight and wet, gripping my dick like a vice.”
“More,” I demanded, arching against him, trying to take him deeper, my heels pressing into his ass. The table dug into my back, but the fullness of him overrode everything. “I want more. And harder.”
“Anything you want, little mate. Anything.” The endearment sent a thrill through me, his voice rough with need.
He started moving, pulling almost all the way out, leaving just the tip kissing my entrance, before sliding back in, every inch dragging against my sensitive walls. Every thrust hit that spot inside me that made my toes curl, sparks igniting low in my belly. I wrapped my legs around him tighter, ankles locked athis lower back, drawing him closer, deeper, my calves flexing against his sweat-slick skin.
“Yes,” I moaned, the word a plea, my tits bouncing with each impact.
