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His strong hand grabbed one side of my face, and he looked at me like he was already deep inside me. But instead of speaking, he leaned down and kissed me again, letting me taste myself on his lips as his free hand found my breast.
The kiss was surprisingly tender, and it caught me off-guard. I guess I expected him to devour me after his performance in the living room. But if I didn’t know better, I’d think he had feelings for me, feelings that ran deeper than physical attraction.
His thumb circled my nipple, each pass making me wetter and wetter. “Lie back,” he said finally, nudging me against the high bed.
I sat down, scooted back, and leaned onto my elbows so I could watch him crawl over me. But he didn’t. Instead, he bent my legs and dragged the tip of his need through my silk, letting me watch as he traced my entrance, teasing me until I couldn’t stand it anymore. Then he pushed inside me.
My head fell back as he sank deep, stretching me so I couldn’t feel anything but how thick he was. And when I gasped for breath, I lifted my head, watching as he buried himself inside me, his hands squeezed around my thighs and his eyes…on my face.
“Your body,” he said, groaning instead of finishing the sentence.
By his third thrust I was higher than I’d ever been, and all I could feel was the heat he was pushing through me, the pressure he was building in my core with every rock of his hips.
Our eyes met a moment later, and there was nothing friendly about it. It was carnal. Primal. My whole body was a cocktail of vulnerability and longing and desperation. It was almost as if I craved his release as much as my own.
Soon the bed was shaking from the force of his slamming hips, and he straightened my legs so they framed his perfect chest as he fucked me, hitting me so deep my eyes watered as my fingers clutched his soft bedspread.
“Oh God,” I cried, as he stoked my burning belly. “Don’t stop,” I pleaded, moaning louder than I’d ever dared. And yes. I said yes so many times. Over and over again I said yes.
To how I was feeling. To what he was doing to me. And to him.
Because he was the part I couldn’t get enough of.
