I released them after a few moments. ‘Will you stand up?’
He did. My whole body still felt like liquid, quicksilver in the vague shape of a woman, but I managed to push myself to a sitting position. My eyes were level with his nipples, and I leaned up to kiss one of them as I unbuttoned his pants and tugged them down his hips, taking his underwear with them.
‘Oh,’ I breathed. ‘Oh, Satoshi.’
I pressed my lips to his chest, then rested my forehead against it as I traced the length of his cock with the tip of my finger. He groaned again, his hand coming up reflexively to cup my head, then went very still as I wrapped my fist around him and stroked.
‘Fiona,’ he said.
I kissed his chest again, just over his heart, then slid off the bed, onto my knees. His cock curved very slightly to the left, I realised, as I licked along the length of it. He was reasonably well-endowed, but not so big that it would be painful; generous, rather than intimidating.
I flicked my tongue against the groove on the underside of the head. The sound he made was so sudden and so surprised that it made me laugh, humming against him as I took him into my mouth.
‘No.’ His hand tangled in my hair and tugged sharply. ‘Stop.’
I drew back immediately. ‘Did I do something wrong?’
‘No, no.’ His chest was heaving. ‘It’s just – this is about you. Not me.’
‘I want to.’
‘No.’ He tugged at my hair again, pulling me to my feet. ‘How do you want it?’
The subtext suddenly became clear. If I used my mouth on him, he wouldn’t last.
The sting of rejection eased, turning into something akin to satisfaction. He reallydidwant me.
‘Hard,’ I said. ‘Fast. Fuck me, Satoshi. Please.’
It was my turn to make a noise of sudden surprise as he flung me back onto the bed, flipping me onto my front and pulling me up onto my hands and knees. There was a mirror on the door of his wardrobe, and I could see him moving behind me, opening a drawer, taking out a foil packet, and rolling a condom on.
My mouth went dry at the sight of him, the long, lean lines of his body as he stood there naked, wearing nothing but the condomand his moss-green-framed glasses.You’re so beautiful,I wanted to say, but the words got stuck in my throat.
He knelt on the bed, positioning himself behind me, nudging my knees further apart so he could fit between them. The head of his cock brushed against me, and I braced myself.
But then, instead of pushing inside, he reached down and pulled me up to him. My back was pressed to his front, his left arm banded strong against me, his hand splayed open over my heart.
With his right hand, he guided himself to my entrance, and met my eyes in the mirror. Every inch of my body was displayed in it – my slightly uneven breasts, sagging more than they once had; the softness of my belly with all its silvery stretch marks; every one of my insecurities laid bare – but when he looked at me like this, the strain of wanting and restraint on his face, it was hard to feel like anything but a goddess.
‘Are you ready?’ His breath was hot behind my ear.
I turned my head so I could kiss him. ‘Yes.’
The pressure of his hand against my breastbone increased. ‘Watch.’
It hurt a little as he slid slowly inside me – not much, not truly painful, just the pleasurable, aching stretch of unused muscles. I moaned with the sensation, head falling back against his shoulder, and he stopped. ‘No,’ he growled. ‘Watch, Fiona.’
‘You’re—’ I gasped, as another inch of him disappeared inside me in the mirror ‘—you’re the boss.’
His right hand traced the line of my thigh before coming to rest on my belly, fingers just brushing my clit as I took all of him. ‘That’s right. So let me give you what you need.’
He bit my earlobe, hips grinding against mine. This position didn’t come with a great range of motion, but it didn’t matter – I could feel him everywhere.
‘You’re inmybed, Fiona.’ He circled my clit with his fingers, as he pulled out then thrust sharply back in, so hard it made me cry out. ‘These aremyhands on you.I’minside you.’
‘Yes,’ I managed to say, as he thrust again.
‘Say it.’ The heel of his hand was pressed so hard now against my heart it might leave a bruise, holding me in place as he drove up into me. ‘Who’s fucking you?’
