“We can stop,” he says. “I didn’t mean to push—”
“No. I want to,” I say.
I grab his hand, his warm, strong hand, and place it over my left breast. When he slides his rough thumb over my nipple, I shiver.
“You like that,” he murmurs.
I nod, and he teases me some more, taking his time with each breast until my wet, perfectly sucked nipples are rock hard under his tongue and teeth and I’m clenching my fingers into my palms, my nails digging into the skin. Jesus, he’s good at this. I reach for the front of his jeans, brushing the bulge there, not really knowing what I’m doing but trying to convey what I want anyway. A deep rumble comes from low in his throat.
His hand moves from my waist to my hips, tugging at the button of my jeans. He’s equally tender and firm, and the cool self-assuredness he has is driving me mad. Once my zipper is down, Clayton pulls away and kneels in front of me as he works my pants down my legs. I lean back with my elbows on the counter and he helps me step out of them one leg at a time, and then I’m standing there in nothing but my underwear.
“Hold on to that counter,” he warns.
Before I can ask what he means, my panties are off and he’s pushing my legs apart.
The heat of his palms seeps into my inner thighs as he presses there, and my eyes widen as I realize what he’s about to do. Instantly, I panic. Nobody’s ever gone down on me before. How does this work? What am I supposed to do? I feel so awkward. What if I don’t like it?
But before I can protest, his tongue is on me. I nearly lose my grip on the counter as he licks me deep and slow, going straight up my opening and then gently circling my clit.Wow.
“Ahhh,” I moan.
He focuses on my nub, working it with gentle ferocity. My moans turn to gasps, my eyes closing as my head tilts back. Clayton takes his time exploring me, and soon I’m on fucking fire, bright shocks of pleasure rippling through me with each stroke of his tongue. Every time it starts to feel like too much, I gently push him lower, and he switches back to lapping at my slit until my breathing slows and I start to calm down. Then he does it all over again. Driving me crazy, taking a break. Crazy, break. Crazy, break. Time stands still. I think maybe I’ve died and gone to heaven.
Soon, I’m completely overwhelmed by the blur of sensations. I forget all my inhibitions and begin swinging my hips, grinding myself against his mouth, needy and desperate. I can’t believe how good this feels. He’s licking, sucking, biting, fucking me with his tongue. But no matter how good it is, for some reason, I can’t let myself go. Something is holding me back.I’mholding me back.
“You can come,” Clayton says, briefly coming up for air. “Come for me, lass.”
“I can’t,” I tell him between my own jagged breaths. “I want to, but—”
“I’ll help you, then.”
“Please,” I beg.
He moves me to the island, bending me forward over the butcher block so I have to brace myself on my forearms. I push my ass out a little, widening my stance, my heart pounding in my chest when I hear the sound of a zipper, the rustling of fabric hitting the floor.
“Don’t move a muscle,” he says, and I hear his footsteps as he leaves the kitchen.
Seconds later, I hear the crinkling of what must be a condom wrapper as he returns, and then I feel the heat of his cock pressing against my ass—and then he’s gliding straight into me, spearing my slick pussy with a firm, deep thrust. We fit together perfectly, and my God, it’s so good. I nearly come just from feeling him inside me, but I hold out. I don’t want this to be over yet. I want to savor it.
I’m so wet that Clayton quickly switches from slow strokes to faster ones, pumping harder and harder, letting out these little groans that make me so hot I can barely stay standing. There’s nothing in the world but our connection now, the sound of heavy breathing, our skin smacking together, the hot, tight knot at my center and the pleasure that’s building with every thrust. Without warning, he grabs my ponytail as he’s fucking me, jerking it back hard enough to make my scalp tingle. When he slaps my ass, it pushes me right over the edge. I lose it, wailing as the orgasm hits me and my pussy clenches around his thrusting cock.
He’s saying something that I can’t comprehend. It doesn’t matter. My eyes are tearing up, and I’m trying not to cry from the intensity of what I’m feeling. I had no idea sex could be like this. His movements slow, so now I can feel every inch of him working in and out. His breath is labored, his grip like iron on my hips. He’s going to leave bruises, and I’ll be sore as hell tomorrow, but I don’t care.
I want more.
He seems to intuit what I’m thinking, though I haven’t said a word. Clayton shifts his angle, readjusting me so his cock rubs a new spot. It’s delicious and deep, and so good…I know I won’t come again, but I still like the way it feels.
I let out a sigh of pleasure and Clayton groans and pulls back a little, then slams into me one last time, pulsing deep inside me. Then he spins me around, swings me into his arms, and carries me out of the kitchen, down the hall, and into a bathroom.
“Care to join me for a shower?” he asks. “Or is it a bit too forward to ask?”
“I’d love to.”
Our eyes catch and he smiles, the softness of it stealing the breath I’d finally found again.
Setting me on my feet, he turns on the water and then helps me inside. To my surprise, the showerhead is a huge square thing centered over the middle of the tub, and it drops the water like rainfall.
“Fancy,” I comment, turning my face up into the hot spray.
