I kiss down his chest, down the hard planes of his abs, counting each rib and muscle. His breath is tight and labored, and his skin is covered in a flush.
I did that.Me.I’ve made this incredible man moan and gasp and tremble with want.
It’s addictive. I need to do more. So I give him another long, lingering lick, and he gets even more impossibly hard. I’m not sure I can fit him in my mouth, but I give it my best shot, swallowing as deeply as I can and using my hands on the rest of him.
“God, yes,” he moans.
I try every trick I know, which unfortunately isn’t many, to make him as feverish as he made me.
It doesn’t take long before he pulls me off him.
He’s panting now.
“What’s wrong?” It’s my turn to ask, kissing his nipple.
“I’m too close. I need to be inside you.”
I need that as well. So badly. But I’m still a little hesitant about how this will work.
“I’m, uh… You’re much bigger than…”
“What are you trying to say, Poppy?” he teases.
“I’m just trying to explain why we might not fit,” I say. “Don’t get cocky. Maybe bigger isn’t better.”
He laughs. “Oh, we’ll fit. I intend to be buried in your tight, gorgeous pussy. But you’re right. We need to do some TLC to ensure it’s comfortable for you.”
“What kind of TLC?”
“The kind that makes you very, very wet,” he rumbles, and in one smooth motion, he twists us around so his face is between my legs again.
And he proceeds to make me very, very wet again, as planned. When I’m nearly incoherent with lust, he adds one finger, and then two, and then three, and uses them to stretch me. I’m riding his face, riding his fingers, racing toward the best orgasm of my life when he abruptly pulls away and kneels above me.
I give a hiss of dissatisfaction, like an angry cat.
He gifts me his small half smile. “Don’t worry, love. I’ll make it better,” he soothes. “Now?” he asks, pushing, and he’s right. Any trepidation has melted away. I need his massive, hard cock in me. I want every inch of him. I need to feel the burn of him, the pleasure-pain. I need it with every last breath.
“Now,” I order with desperation.
He reaches behind him to his discarded pants and pulls out a condom, slipping it on. I didn’t even think of that. I can’t believe I forgot about everything, even safe sex. I’m on the pill, so maybe I could be forgiven for the lapse in judgment, but this is how crazy I am for him.
Then he’s at my entrance, and I’m back to forgetting about everything else except needing him to fill me up.
He surges into me and then stops. I gaze into that handsome face, into those glacier eyes that look anything but cold now. They burn into mine. “Okay?” he asks, though I can see the tension that holding back is causing.
“O-okay.”
He pushes in a fraction more. I wince at the stretch, and he stops immediately, checking in with me.
I nod, but instead of surging forward again, he puts a hand between us and luxuriously plays with my clit, teasing me as he kisses my ear, my neck, and down my breasts in soft kisses. I’m throbbing everywhere, feeling more filled up than I can manage and, at the same time, needing more.
I gasp as he slowly starts to move again, and I welcome that stretch until he’s fully in me.
I grasp his muscled ass, moving restlessly.
“Easy, love,” he groans, moving with slow, deep, steady strokes that drive me mad. He slips a finger between us and teases my clit, circling lightly in a way that pushes me higher, keeps me poised on the edge of climax.
I can tell how much he’s holding back.
