His eyes crack open, and after watching the look on my face, he props himself up on his elbows and scoots backward, forcing me to shift with him as I straddle his stomach. My balance wavers for a moment, but before I can fall, he catches me. His strong hands grip my arms firmly, steadying me, and he pulls me onto my knees, making me sit astride his thighs.
Pointing toward the bulge in his pants, he says, “This is where it ends.”
Oh, now I understand what he means, and my cheeks flush instantly. He huffs and flops back onto the bed, his voice tinged with irritation. “Just get my pants off. We’ll figure it out.”
I do as he says and fumble with the buckle of his belt. I swear, undoing his pants seems more complicated than solving those high school math exams I used to dread. Somehow, I manage to unbutton and unzip them, though not without considerable effort. He lifts his hips eagerly, making it easier for me to slide the fabric down.
Now, only a pair of black briefs separate him from total exposure. His powerful thighs frame the hard length straining against his briefs. It’s impossible to ignore, even through the fabric.
“Come here,” he says gently, lifting a hand toward me.
I crawl over him, careful not to let my body touch the hard length pressing against his briefs. As I hover above him, my hair cascades down, framing our faces and brushing his skin. He cradles my face and kisses me hard, all dominance and hunger.
One hands trails down from the side of my face, tracing my spine before resting possessively on my ass. His fingers spread, gripping me hard as he pulls my hips down against him. Heat flares between us as his hardness presses against me through the thin fabric. A soft moan slips from my lips into his mouth.
He pulls back, voice rough with need. “It wants you, Lucia. Set it free.”
There is a mix of pride and pleading in his voice that tames me in an instant. I lean forward, pressing my lips to his chest, then trailing kisses lower and lower until I reach the edge of his briefs. The moment my fingers slip beneath the waistband, he lifts his hips eagerly, and I pull them down.
His cock springs free, thick and hard. I glance up at Tony, finding his gaze on me. His chest rises and falls heavily, anticipation etched across his face.
Without thinking, my hand wraps around the thick, veined length of him. He throws his head back, letting out a deep, guttural groan that resonates through the room. Tentatively, I brush my thumb over the smooth, swollen head. It’s surprisingly soft and warm under my fingers, already slick.
In my wildest dreams, I never imagined myself willingly touching a man like this. The very thought used to fill me with disgust. But with Tony, it’s different. I don’t just tolerate it, Iwantit. Iwant him.
Before I can stop myself, I lean down and press a soft, wet kiss to the glistening head. His deep moans fill me with a strange mix of pride and pleasure.
I realize something in this moment. I want to drive him mad with desire. It’s a need that pulses through me, one I hadn’t known existed until now.
Tony grips my shoulders, flipping me onto my back so quick and sudden that it leaves me breathless. His head dips into the curve of my neck, and his hands glide over the thin straps of my dress, sliding them down my arms. His palms cup my breasts gently, and with his index finger, he circles the already hardened peak of one.
“These perfect tits are so fucking delicious,” he murmurs.
His lips trail down my skin until they reach my chest. While one hand kneads the softness of one breast, his mouth envelops the other, his warm tongue stroking the sensitive bud as he sucks. His other hand slides down, slipping under my dress and panties until his fingers find my wet pussy.
A jolt of pleasure shoots through me, making my back arch and my fingers clutch the sheets beneath me. My moans escape unbidden, soft yet raw, as his expert touch stokes a fire I didn’t know could burn this fiercely.
His fingers part me, one sliding through my slick folds. My thighs press into the mattress. My hands clutch his shoulders, nails digging into the firm muscle beneath his skin. The cool wetness on my nipples against my burning skin drives me crazy, sending waves of pleasure coursing through me. His lips move lower, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses in their wake, and he pinches each nipple in turn, drawing gasps from deep within me.
When his lips reach my navel, he straightens, kneeling between my legs with an intensity in his gaze that steals my breath. His hands grip the edges of my dress, and in one motion, he pulls it off along with my panties, tossing them aside.
He takes himself in hand, stroking his length slowly while his hungry eyes hold mine. His free hand grips my hips, tugging me closer until our bodies align perfectly. The soft, velvet head of his cock glides over my slick folds, teasing, torturing.
A wicked smirk curls his lips as I arch my back and bite down on my lip, desperate to stifle the moans threatening to spill out. But when he begins tapping his rigid length against my clit in firm, rhythmic strokes, a loud moan escapes me, unrestrained, raw.
I arch my back, silently begging him to fill me, to quench this unbearable ache. Yet he holds back. It’s maddening. I need him, desperately, but it seems he has other plans.
He continues to torment me with controlled pleasure, driving me to the brink with careful precision. Just as my frustration peaks, he reaches out, pulling a condom from the pocket of his discarded pants on the bed. Finally, he’s going to give me what I want.
But instead of tearing it open, he twirls the condom packet between his fingers and holds it up. “There’s a car parked downstairs,” he says. “Tonight, you’re running away with me.”
I’m so intoxicated by pleasure that his words barely register. Instead, I lift my hips, my voice breathy as I ask, “What do you want me to do?”
“You’re coming with me to Chicago.”
The rush of hormones fades, snapping me back to reality. My eyes fly open as clarity replaces the fog. “You’ve got to be joking.”
He shakes his head slowly. What kind of game is he playing?
