I yank my mouth from his. He makes a displeased noise.
“Into the bedroom,” I say breathlessly, then lick my tingling lips. I swear I can taste him on my mouth.
His eyes flare. “Open the door,” he orders, his voice low, then claims my mouth again.
I feel around behind me with my free hand until my fingers brush the cool knob, which I quickly turn.
The door opens silently, and we spill into the slightly darkened bedroom. I lower my legs, standing on my feet. He plunders my mouth like he owns it, and I do the same to him. It’s liberating and sexy as hell to know this gorgeous man and the pleasure he can give belong to me.
Still kissing, we strip each other, our fingers hurried and clumsy. Garments fall from him, revealing more of the stunning, taut body. Lean, powerful muscles cover his tall and broad frame, exactly the kind of body that makes your knees weak with hunger.
I move toward the bed, then try to pull him on top of me as I fall back on the mattress. He puts a hand in the center of my back to stop me.
I look up at him in confusion.
“You’re riding my face, remember?”
My cheeks heat with excitement, followed by trepidation. I meant what I said in the car. I don’t think I’m the type of girl who can do that without hurting her partner. “I don’t know… I’ve never…”
“That’s precisely why you should.”
The arousal from earlier cools a little as he sits against the headboard and brings me down, so I’m straddling him, with his cock between my thighs. It throbs against my slick core, and the proof that he wants me—and wants to do this for me—soothes my anxiety somewhat.
“Do you trust me to make it good for you?” he asks, placing a kiss on the corner of my mouth.
I’m still not one hundred percent sure about this, but if there’s one thing I have, it’s faith in him in bed. “Yes,” I whisper.
“Good girl.”
He kisses me again, his tongue stroking mine tenderly, like a reward. He strokes my back, his fingertips barely brushing my body. Delicious goosebumps break out everywhere he touches. I never realized my back could be so sensitive.
He drags his lips along my jaw, then drops kisses on my forehead, my eyes and cheeks. He wraps his hand around my long hair, tilting my chin so he can have better access to the fluttering pulse point on my vulnerable throat.
I whimper at the feel of his mouth on my neck. When he nips my skin with the edge of his teeth, just enough to send a little shock but not enough to hurt, the whimper turns into a moan. And I feel the flesh between my legs grow wetter and slicker. It’s almost embarrassing how drenched I am. It’s like somebody poured a large bottle of lube on my pussy.
I rock against his thick, hard length. I can feel the pulsing veins on his huge cock, each ridge providing a little wave of pleasure with each glide. His breathing is harsh now, but he still doesn’t try to thrust into me. He just lets me use him to make myself feel good, then brings his mouth down until his breaths tickle my nipple.
I bite my lip, waiting for him to pull it into his mouth and suck. But he only uses his tongue, flicking it, teasing it, while his hands squeeze my ass and help me move against his cock better…
No. Not better. He’s controlling how fast and hard I can rock against him. He’s giving me just enough freedom to stay on the edge, an orgasm shimmering just out of reach, but not letting it shatter me.
My toes curl, and I twist, trying to push my breast into his mouth. He switches to the other nipple—and sucks it, but the stimulation comes with slower gliding against his cock.
Oh my God. My head falls back as I struggle to breathe. He’s going to kill me…
I tunnel my fingers into his hair. “Please,” I beg.
He doesn’t budge, but chuckles darkly.
He isn’t going to let me climax until I agree to sit on his face. I’m still worried about being too heavy, but I can probably manage by holding on to the headboard and putting my weight on my knees.
“Show me what you want,” he says, his eyes glittering with fire.
“On your back.” I move to the side, so he can slide down until his head is on a pillow.
Excitement sparks in his eyes, but I can’t decide if my own feeling is trepidation or eagerness. Maybe both as I place my knees on either side of his head and look down at him. Even though I’m on top, this position makes me feel inexplicably vulnerable.
I hesitate. He runs a warm hand along my thigh, the gesture soothing and intimate, and gazes at me with bright affection and admiration in his eyes.
