“I know exactly what I want.”
He grips my sweater and I lift my arms, letting him rid me of the blue and white cotton. My bra is next, the dainty clasp being no match for the determined mountain of a man. He cups my bare breasts in his strong hands and I shiver as acallous brushes my nipple. Arthur immediately pulls me closer on his lap, drawing said nipple into his mouth, like he needs to apologize for the roughness of his hands.
But no apology is needed. I love everything about his body and am suddenly desperate to feel as much of it against me as possible. I only manage to undo the top two buttons of his dress shirt before losing patience and pulling at the hem.
“Need something?” He chuckles as I struggle. But he leans forward and raises his arms so I’m able to take off the white linen.
He pulls me back against him, his kiss swallowing the sound I make as his chest hair brushes against my sensitive breasts. The number of times I thought of him like this. Alone at night before I went to sleep. I told myself it would never happen. Convinced myself it couldn’t.
Now I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to do without it.
I rock my hips against him, causing him to groan. I love the sounds he makes. Half tortured. Half ecstasy. I want more of them.
I undo his pants, climbing off his lap so I can pull them off. His signature black boxer briefs come with them. He reaches for me, but instead of resuming my position, I drop to my knees in front of him.
“Elliot.” He breathes my name, his hand stroking my cheek before his fingers tangle in my hair.
I lower my mouth over the tip of his cock, living for the string of curses it causes him to let go. I let my jaw go slack as I take him deeper, the taste of his skin flooding my senses. I go slowly, taking my time. His hand tightens in my hair, but he’s not controlling my movements. He’s letting me lead.
“God, Elliot. It’s too good,” he mutters, his eyes dazed as he watches me. “I want you to ride me. I want to feel you come on my cock.”
My pussy throbs in response to his words. I love when hetells me what he wants. With one more lick from base to tip I push myself to stand. My legs are wobbly as I shove my shorts and panties down. He reaches for me again and this time I go to him. Happily. Eagerly. I settle on to his lap as he pulls me against him.
“Your mouth,” he murmurs against my lips. “God, the things you make me feel.”
I kiss him, hard and fast, moving my hips against him, craving the kind of friction only he can give me. I’ve never felt so wanted. Not tolerated. Not convenient. Wanted.
Sometimes it scares me. How easily he dismantles my barriers. How quickly my future starts rearranging itself around the idea ofus.
“The condoms are in my bag,” he pants as I grind against him.
“Do…do we need one?”
He goes completely still, and I panic, tripping over my own words. “It’s just—I have an IUD. And I’ve been tested. There’s been no one but you.” And I don’t want anyone else. Ever.
He swallows. “I’ve been tested too. I’m clear. Are you sure?”
I nod. “I’m sure.”
He studies my face for what feels like an eternity looking at me like I’m something precious, not something temporary. Like he’s already decided I belong here. Finally, he pulls me in for a blistering, almost punishing kiss. “Tell me you’re ready for me, baby.”
I’m more than ready. So wet, I’m almost dripping against him. I answer by lining us together and sinking myself down onto him until I’m fully seated.
“God, Elliot. You feel fucking incredible.”
I hold onto his shoulders as I move, lifting up and slidingdown onto him over and over again. It’s almost more than I can take and yet somehow I want more. More. More.
I gasp and moan as I ride him faster, harder. Everything else goes away. There is only him and me. Only us. He palms my ass, setting the rhythm of my ride.
“You love it, don’t you, baby?”
“Yes,” I pant, climbing too high, too fast. “I love it.”
His chest rises and falls beneath me, as he stares up at me with hooded eyes. “You want me to come inside your perfect pussy?”
“Yes,” is all I manage to cry as my climax slams into me and I collapse, falling, tumbling, onto him.
“Oh fuck, Elliot, Elliot…” Arthur says my name again and again before spilling himself inside me. He holds me tighter than ever before against him. Like he’s terrified I’m going to vanish into thin air.
