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But he had a game plan and I knew wherever we were headed, it would be right where we were supposed to be.
He dropped to his knees, eyes level with my exposed, wet pussy.
“Look at what you do to me.” My words came out like a song, like a sultry jazz singer that was crooning for her lover to come and set her free.
His eyes should have gone right for the prize, my wetness spread and on display. But his eyes reached higher, locked on my face like I was the prize. But it was more than that. He was watching me, watching him. Like he wanted me to remember who was running this show.
If there was any doubt, my whole body paused, holding its breath, waiting as his eyes bore into mine.
I sucked in a breath as his fingers stroked my right inner thigh. He moved so close to my core, to touching my erotic folds, that I bit my bottom lip. I got no mercy, no relief, because he moved to the other one, denying me the bliss of his touch. Making me wait. Making me grow. Both of us were stubborn. The fact that I jutted out my bottom lip and was met with a delicious curve of his own was proof of that.
Who would break first?
It wasn’t a game I wanted to play—not when I knew all too well how good his mouth felt.
I surrendered.
“Please, Jason.” I didn’t get specific, but I did spread my folds open, making a neon sign. A metaphorical yellow brick road from his mouth to the magical place between my thighs.
He arched an eyebrow quizzically, still making me work for it.
“Please what?” he teased. “I want to give you what you want.”
“Your mouth!” I snapped, losing it. “I want your—Oh my God!”
Apparently me mouthing off was just what he was waiting for because he dove in like the starting shot had been fired. I had a distinctive palette. I knew delicious—and he was eating me like I was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted. His tongue lapped at my juices like he didn’t want to miss a drop. He lifted me off the counter so he could go deeper and from his throaty growls, intermixing with his smacking and the sounds of my body screaming yes, over and over again, we were both craving this. Needed this.
Though if I had a wishlist and Christmas was coming early in the form of domination and the best oral I’d had in my life, there was one more thing that I wanted to ask for.
“Fuck me,” I begged. “Please fuck me, Jason.”
His lips were pursed around my clit and the vibrations from his words echoed through me, but it was just un-muffled enough that I picked out something that sounded like, Hell yeah! When he came up for air, quickly finding and tearing open an aluminum square package, I knew it was on.
I scooted off the edge of the counter, but he caught me, not done. Not waiting. He held me up, my butt fitting perfectly in his hands.
He rubbed his cock against my folds. Still teasing. There was no playfulness when he posed himself at my pulsing entrance. Without a word, without warning, he thrusted inside me.
We lost ourselves in the frenzy, in the lust as flesh met flesh. Our eyes locked and I wrapped my arm around his neck and took him deeper. With a moan of elation, he crushed his mouth against mine. Fucked me with his mouth, with his tongue while he explored the depths of my body with his body. He tasted like sex and power and mischief. He felt like forever.
He slowed his thrusts, his face contorted like he was close, but his eyes told me he wasn’t done.
“How do you want me?” I asked him thickly. In this moment, in my state of mind, which was wild with longing and need, I would have done just about anything. His request was a simple one.
“Up against the counter.”
He lowered me gently, but just in case I thought this was a brief intermission, he smacked my ass, making me tingle from head to toe.
I leaned against the counter, lifted on my toes and bit my lip when I felt him positioning. Entering me again. From a whole new angle that made me spew profanity because it felt so good.
And then he went to work, doling out equal measures of pleasure and pain. Strokes that buried him deep inside me and slices of heat as he followed the thrusts with spanks. I was so close to climax and it was the one thing that he nor I could control. When I reached the pinnacle of pleasure, I didn’t try to wrangle it. I fell into that sexual black hole, pushed further when I felt him still pumping and he let out a thunderous groan that told me he was spiraling out of control himself. Lost in bliss.
I stayed panting and trembling on the counter, it barely registering when he left the room. My eyes flew open when I felt a warmth spreading over my bottom, and I blushed, letting out a giggle when he spread me open and stroked me with what he retrieved, a warm wash cloth. It felt good and new, but he paused, like he’d forgotten something.
“I want to feel your body pressed against mine beneath the water,” he murmured in my ear, making me shiver.
I was still in a daze, following him like I was the visitor and this wasn’t my humble abode.
The world settled back in place as we stepped into my bathroom. I almost asked him why he guessed this room was mine, but considering the crazy mess of things had an epicenter of my bedroom and my roommate’s door was closed, it didn’t take a detective to figure it out.
