I continue like this, giving her another two orgasms back to back.
“Again,” I insist.
I’m beyond obsessed with the way her face contorts as pleasure washes over her, and the way she’s grinding her luscious ass against my dick.
“No more,” Alina pants, her body still trembling, her skin flushed and slick with sweat. “I can’t come again.” Her eyes meet mine in the mirror, something new flickering in their blue depths.
“You can,” I growl.
“Can I… can I touch you instead?” The question is hesitant, but there’s determination behind it. The sight of her naked andsatisfied before me, yet asking for more, makes my cock jerk against her.
I consider her request, weighing the benefits of maintaining complete control against the pleasure of feeling her hands on me. The decision is easier than it should be.
“Fuck yes.”
Relief and excitement flash across her face. I release my hold on her throat and turn her around so she’s facing me.
“Look at me,” I tell her, “I want to see your face when you touch me for the first time.”
She nods, her gaze dropping to my chest before rising to meet my eyes again. I see the question there, the uncertainty.
“Anywhere,” I confirm, answering her unspoken query. “Touch me anywhere you want.”
Her hands rise slowly, hovering just inches from my skin as if she’s afraid I might change my mind. When I don’t stop her, she places her palms flat against my chest, right over my heartbeat.
“You’re so warm,” she whispers, her fingers spreading against my skin.
I remain perfectly still, letting her explore at her own pace. Her touch is feather-light as her fingertips trace the lines of my tattoos, following the intricate patterns that cover my skin. The innocent exploration is somehow more erotic than if she’d gone straight for my cock.
“These are beautiful,” she murmurs, outlining the wolf on my ribs. “Do they all mean something?”
“The wolf does,” I rasp.
“And the letters?”
“And the letters,” I confirm.
The reason for those particular tattoos isn’t a secret by any means. But I don’t feel like discussing my family history when she has her hands on me.
She accepts this without question, continuing her exploration. Her hands become more confident as they move over my shoulders, down my arms, feeling the hard muscle beneath my skin. When she reaches my hands, she traces each finger, each scar, with fascination.
“You’re so different from me,” she observes, her gaze flicking between my body and hers in the mirror. “Hard where I’m soft.”
“Perfect contrast,” I reply, fighting to keep my breathing steady as her hands return to my chest, fingers threading through the dark hair there before moving lower, over my stomach.
When she reaches my abdomen, her touch becomes tentative again, her eyes widening as my muscles tense beneath her fingers. She traces the V of my hips, stopping just short of where I want her touch most.
“It’s okay,” I encourage, my voice strained. “Keep going.”
Her eyes meet mine, searching for reassurance. Whatever she sees there gives her the courage to continue. She brings one hand up to my chest again, and in a move that surprises me, pinches my nipple experimentally.
I hiss through my teeth, my cock jerking in response. “Fuck.”
A small, satisfied smile curves her lips. “You like that?”
“Yes,” I admit, watching as she does it again, harder this time. The sharp pain sends another jolt of pleasure straight to my groin. “But don’t tease me. Not after I’ve watched you come over and over.”
Finally, her gaze drops to my erection, standing hard and ready between us. “You want me to touch your… penis?”
