I blink. “What?”
“Let go of your cock.”
Gritting my teeth, I do. She stands and gets onto the bed. I grip the covers as she crawls over to me, her hair over one shoulder, the strap of her bra slipping down as if teasing me.
She captures my mouth with hers and bites my lip. “Did I say speed up?”
I try to kiss her again, but she pulls back. “No.”
“No what?”
“No, Monty.”
“Then why did you?”
My heart is like a fucking freight train in my chest. “Because you’re so fucking beautiful you make me want to come.”
She smirks. “Nice try. Follow my rhythm, or you’ll regret it.”
Part of me wants to know what that means, but this is Monty Reid. It could mean many things, most of which could end up with me in a great deal of pain.
She returns to her seat. “Continue.”
She coaches me through the rhythm, but when she’s looking at my cock as greedily as she is, I can’t help but move faster.
Her gaze cuts to mine. “Stop.”
“Monty—”
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
I stop stroking, my chest rising and falling with quick breaths, but I cease breathing all together when she stands and drops her panties down her thighs. The black lace slips across her creamy skin, and she steps out of them. She sits again and hangs her legs over the arms of the chair, spread open for me.
I groan and go to move.
“Stay exactly where you are.”
It takes all my effort to do as she says, especially when she runs her finger across herself. She’s pink and glistening, wet and ready for me.
A low growl escapes my throat. “Fuck, Monty.”
“If you were a good boy, you could be tasting me,” she says. “But you weren’t good, were you?”
“No,” I say, my eyes fixed on her pussy.
She pushes two fingers inside herself, and I nearly shoot off the fucking bed. I’m losing control, close to fucking feral as she fingers herself. Her eyes flutter closed and she drops her head back, using her other hand to reveal her breasts and play with her nipples. She grinds against her hand, her hips rolling.
“I’ve lost count how many times I’ve done this thinking about you,” she gasps. I can’t speak. Can’t breathe. I need to sink into her pussy, fuck her senseless, but I stay fucking still. “Even before I came to your house, I’d think about you.” She rolls a nipple between her fingers. “I’d imagine you fucking me just like you did. Rough. Powerful.” She moans loudly. “I knew you’d fuck me perfectly.”
“Monty,” I groan. “Please.”
With every roll of her hips, my dick gets harder. She’s fucking perfection—her body, her soft sounds, her control over me.
“I dreamed of you,” she pants, her fingers plunging in and out of her pussy rapidly. “I needed you so badly. I … oh God, Guy—” a cry escapes her lips as she comes, her body shuddering with pleasure. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my fucking life.
She finally looks at me, eyes half closed, a lazy smile on her face.
And she does it again.
