The warm, silky touch of his tongue grazes over my lips, and it sends another one of those mind-blowing shivers all the way to my core. A moan escapes my mouth as I unlock my jaw to give him the access he demands. Soon, he’s invading me, demanding and voracious. My fervor equals his, and in an instant, we’re battling to sample each other.
One month of unsatisfied needs and built-up frustration is unleashing at once.
This is far beyond any expectation I might have had, so much more than all the fantasies I had of him. It’s all so overwhelming, and I’m burning inside out, but I still need so much more. A helpless moan travels from my mouth to his as I try to get closer to him, to feel more of him, but the wide middle console prevents it. I want his body pressed against mine, and I want it now.
As if I actually expressed my needs out loud, his hand reaches for my thigh, under the hem of my dress, and with impressive strength, he pulls me over the separation and onto him. I focus on keeping our kiss going as he maneuvers me on his lap until I’m straddling him. Hoisted up like this, our faces are perfectly aligned, and I can enjoy him more thoroughly.
His hands are now moving up and down my body, caressing my naked back, apparently as greedy as I am to feel more. I get lost in our kiss, feverish and dizzy. Starved for more, I eagerly press my throbbing core against him to find some relief. With only a thin layer of lace shielding me, my pussy might as well be directly on him.
Oh, my… Someone is as aroused as I am, and that someonehasto be hiding a baseball bat in there.
Framing his handsome face, I devour him, giving him the boldest kiss I’ve ever given anyone. I’m shamelessly licking, exploring the convoluted warmth of his mouth, greedily taking everything. I couldkiss him like this for hours, bending to the will of his lips, melting every time his expert tongue grazes mine in lascivious touches.
Even with my sparse knowledge and little experience, I know Alexander Coleman is particularly divine at this. He’s as restless as I am to feel more, to taste more, to get more, but he isn’t taking control, nor is he passive under me. We share the moment.
How many women has he kissed to become this good? How many hours of it for me to be so entranced?
Somehow, I refuse to be just one more of these women. I’m far from being the first and most certainly won’t be the last. But I can leave a mark. I’m unsure how to upgrade my kissing game, but I must try.
With his wet lower lip between my teeth, I gently pull on it, biting just hard enough to make him groan without actually hurting him. When I release him, he looks at me through heavy eyelids, his cheekbones reddened by our passionate embrace. My face is probably even more flushed, my skin burning from the madness of it all.
I’m bolder than I’ve ever been when I bend forward to follow the outline of his lush lips with the pointed tip of my tongue. Whenever he tries to kiss me, to end the taunting, I refuse him, anchoring my resistance on the backrest behind him. His hand reaches for my nape, and he pulls me down to him, but I counter his will once more. I want to make him beg for it.
But when he fists a handful of my hair and pulls on it harshly, I’m the one about to beg. I’m drenched already, and the electric pain it unleashes only makes it worse.
“Aah, fuck,” I moan, shivering from head to toe and pressing myself harder onto him.
“Andrea,” he growls threateningly.
That’s begging, isn’t it? I decide it is.
My proud smirk when I retake his lips quickly fades. My little teasing did its trick a little too well. There’s no more holding back on his part. But it’s okay because I want more. I need all of it.
A primal need, the most basic of instincts, takes over my brain. Shamelessly, I slowly undulate on his lap, pressing myself at a lascivious pace over the rigid shape there. That part of me is begging for satisfaction, and I’m too inebriated to deny myself this. I can feel with incredible intensity each ripple, each fold of the thick fabric of his slacks, and it’s driving me insane.
My audacity rips another groan from him, and a sudden burst of pride encourages me to keep going. His hands move up my bare outer thighs, beneath the dress, before settling firmly on my behind. Because I’m wearing a thong, they rest directly on my skin, igniting yet another lustful shiver in me.
Fuck… How is kissing this man even better than I imagined?
I’m drowning in a misty haze of lust, and nothing can break through it.
My nose is filled with sweet jasmine, my tongue is high on the taste of hers, and my hands are full of her ass, the flesh soft and malleable under my audacious fingers. I’m still not sure what’s going on or how it happened, but it feels as though four weeks of contained lust are unleashing with voracious intensity.
Andrea fucking Walker, the petite, freckled Latina who’s been driving me mad since she stepped into my life is undulating on top of me, that heated spot between her legs eagerly rubbing against mine. We’re fucking completely dressed, and neither of us seems to care that we’re in a car out in the street, or that she’s my employee and I’m her boss. She doesn’t even remember that she can’t stand me.
I’m so hard it hurts, my cock rock solid under her, desperate to plunge into her soft and warm wetness. Rapturous, I tug her closer, squeezing her ass as I assist her undulations.
She wants this as much as I do. I feel blindsided by it because I never would have thought the untamable lust I’ve been feeling for her was reciprocated. I missed the signals, per usual. I thought I was getting better at understanding body language and nonverbal cues, but I missed them all with her.
Her lips tear away from mine with a sensuous sigh, but I’m not done with her taste yet. I lick and nibble at the delicate column of her throat, hungrily sampling her, hands still pressing her onto me in rhythm.
She’s so damned wet that I can feel it seeping through the thick fabric of my slacks. My fingers slide against the drenched fabric of her underwear, so damp it’s slick against my fingertips. The light touch makes her tremble on top of me.
I pull away enough to gaze at her while I trace a firm line along her lace-clad slit. “You’re fucking soaked.”
She nods, and when I press on her clit, she buckles and curses. “Shit, Lex… I need you.”
I should probably put an end to this, but the only thing I can think of is how easy it would be to actually fuck her. My zipper down, her thong tugged to the side, and then a long, deep, and maddening thrust.
