His rough hands slide from my thighs up to my back. The moment he touches my bare skin a shiver sweeps up my spine and sends goosebumps cascading down my arms.
“I want,” he says hoarsely. “What I want…”
I see the storm in his eyes, the debate back and forth between desire and duty.
Then he kisses me.
His chin lifts and his lips cover mine with a prickle of beard against my chin. Balancing on one arm, I cup his face with my other hand and kiss him back. It’s messy and a little awkward as I try to work out what to properly do with my lips the longer the kiss goes on, but it grows easier as Falco takes the lead. His lips weave between mine, kissing my upper then my lower. Then his head tilts and his tongue swipes across the seam of my lips, encouraging them to part. The second they do, his tongue delves into my mouth and I squeak in surprise.
Falco immediately draws back against his pillow, panting heavily. “I’m sorry. Too much?”
“No!” I shake my head as disappointment swells like a cloud in my stomach, mingling with the growing ache between my legs. “It was nice I just…” Warmth flushes my cheeks. “I don’t know what to do with my tongue.”
A warm, pleasant smile pulls Falco’s lips up to the right and he moves one hand from my back to rest against the side of my neck. “It’s…it’s like how you would say the word low.”
“Low?” I repeat.
“See how your tongue moves if you do it slowly?”
“Low,” I repeat, much slower. “Like that?”
“Yeah. You move your tongue like that but against my tongue, matching it to the natural movement of your jaw during the kiss.”
His words ignite memories of an old fantasy in the back of my mind. Kissing lessons with a sexy man used to entertain my thoughts long into the night as a teen.
“Let me try again,” I whisper.
Falco obliges with a smile, only this time I lean down to kiss him fully so he doesn’t have to strain up to meet me. Our lips meet and we follow the same dance until his tongue teases for entrance into my mouth. I follow his instructions the best I can, trying to follow the curl of my tongue as his slides against mine. With my eyes closed and an impossible heat building between us, it grows easier by the second.
My heart races and each delicate slide of his tongue against my own stokes the fire consuming me on the inside.
Everything feels alert, and I’m hyper-aware of everything around me.
The sheets beneath my palm, the prickle of Falco’s beard, the firmness of my skirt’s waistband around my middle, the bite of my bra strap against my shoulder.
Every kiss ramps up how sensitive my body is until fire licks at my mind and a deep throb pulses between my legs, matching the pounding of my heart. It doesn’t hit me how turned on I am, though, until the kiss breaks with a gasp and I sit back on Falco’s hips.
The immediate pressure of his body and the hard line of his cock against my pussy sends a jolt of pleasure through me. It’s so strong that I squeeze my thighs together in shock and Falco grunts beneath me, his hands shooting back to my thighs.
“Oh shit,” he gasps. “That was just a kiss.”
“A really good kiss,” I groan. “Oh god, I can’t wait any more. Can I? Please…”
Falco’s already nodding.
In this moment, nothing else matters. My core throbs with heat I can’t control, and a deep ache inside me turns my thoughts to mush. There’s only one thing I want.
Falco’s cock inside me.
Shifting on the bed, we work together to pull the blankets down then his joggers, exposing his hard cock to the air. My breath catches in my throat at the sight of it and we both pause.
It’s not the first I’ve seen, technically, but in real life it’s so different. His cock is firm and long, with wetness beading at the swollen, dark tip and soft curls of dark hair nestled at the base. I don’t mean to stare but somehow everything about it is perfect.
“You’re going to make me shy,” Falco croaks, alerting me to the fact that I’m just staring at his dick.
To soothe him, I immediately wrap my hand around the shaft and a moan punches out past his lips. His head rolls back into the pillow and he pants rapidly. In the back of my mind, I distantly fear something happening to his stitches, but I’m too far gone in lust to actively do anything about it.
I trust Falco knows his limits.
