When her wet pussy grazes my cock, it takes everything in me not to grab her, not to order her to ride my cock. When she rocks her hips and lines me up with her entrance, I almost stop breathing.
“Do you want me, Tommy?”
I exhale hard. “So fucking much, sweet girl, but I’ll be here whenever you want me. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
“I told you what I want.” She lifts up onto her knees and inserts the head of my cock inside her. We both catch our breaths, staring at each other.
Fuck, I want to be balls deep inside my girl so bad. I tuck my freed hand behind my head and bite the inside of my lip to stop myself from doing something, saying something that pushes her too far.
“This is all you, sweet girl. I’m just the guy lucky enough to be along for the ride.”
30
Giovanna
When he looks at me like he wants to devour me, like he’s starving for me, but still doesn’t move, still lets me take control, a slow hot panic rises up in my chest.
Lifting on my knees, I start to sink down on him but freeze halfway. His breath catches. Mine does too. Then I rise back up, allow the head of his cock to slide out of me, and sit back.
He watches me quietly, his chest rising and falling in that calm, controlled rhythm that so often makes me crazy but in this moment is exactly what I need.
“I want to,” I whisper. “I just—”
“You don’t have to do anything.”
“I know.” I look down at him, feeling tears burn at the corners of my eyes. “But I need this with you.”
I can see him thinking, calculating, his brain flipping through the possibilities and permutations of our situation like he’s trying to find a way through a minefield.
I lay down on him, my bare chest against his, my legs straddling him, tracing my fingernails up and down his hurt arm still tied to the bed.
“Gi? Do you remember the first time we hooked up?”
“Our first kiss at the tailor shop?”
“No, the first time we came together in your closet.”
I nod against his chest.
He hesitates, then says gently, “What if we try something like that again? But different.”
I lift my chin to meet his gaze. “Different how?”
“You keep control. I don’t move unless you say so. We take it slow, okay?”
“So how is that different?”
“This time, I want you to put on your little cotton panties, and bring me the almond oil.”
Interesting.
I climb off him and snag the shredded panties he tore off me, holding them up. “Probably not these,” I laugh.
He chuckles, his gaze raking over my body as I walk to the dresser and pull out another pair. I pull them on slowly, like the opposite of a striptease, then grab the almond oil off the dresser.
Standing awkwardly by the bed, I’m suddenly nervous. “Now what?”
“Hey.” He reaches out to touch my cheek gently. “You can trust me. And if you feel uncomfortable, you can stop anytime. Okay?” He waves his hand at me then intentionally tucks it behind his head again. “I’ll keep my hands to myself. You’re in charge.”
