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“Good. I like that.” He flipped open the white plastic clasp holding the sheer cups together over my breasts, freeing my breasts from their restraints. Cupping my bare breast in his hand, he squeezed my tightened nipple between his thumb and index finger, gently applying more and more pressure as my desire for him increased. Closing my eyes, I let my head fall back against the mattress, savouring the feel of his hands on me.
When he removed his hand from my breast my eyes flew open and I was about to protest, but his hand was replaced with his mouth and his tongue swirled around my tight nipple. The feel of his breath in combination with the moisture from his tongue was divine and I found myself moaning softly, slipping one hand behind his head and holding his head to me, not wanting the pleasure to end.
But it ended, too quickly.
“Constantine,” I protested, opening my eyes as he released my nipple and slid from the bed.
He didn’t answer, but flashed me a sexy, lopsided grin as he began to unbutton his shirt. Sitting up, I shed my shirt and bra completely and pulled myself further up on the bed, until I was perfectly centered before reclining back on the bed, propping myself up with my elbows, which also had the additional benefit of jutting forward my modest-sized B breasts. It seemed to work, as he paused at the third button from the top to stare at my chest momentarily. It was my turn to hit him with a cocky smile.
“You’re as beautiful as I remembered – more so.”
My smile widened and I felt heat color my cheeks.
He undid another button and another, pulling his shirt out from the waistband of his pants and undoing his belt. “You still have the sexiest blush.”
I chewed at my lower lip, speechless as he shrugged off his shirt and it fell to the floor. My god, he’d filled out since my last time with him. I’d suspected by the feel of his muscle under his clothing how amazing he’d look, but my imaginings hadn’t been near as incredible as the real thing. As my eyes wandered down the length of him, the beauty of his body was marred by various scars, short, long, circular…
My brow creased as I stared at one particularly long and thick scar just above the waistband of his pants.
“What’s wrong?” he asked as his hands stopped moving, clasping his zipper about to pull it down.
Getting to my knees, I crawled over to the edge of the bed. “What is with all the scars?” I reached out and traced the thick scar above his waistband with my index finger.
“It’s nothing. Part and parcel with the line of work I’m in, I’m afraid.”
“My god. That’s so scary.”
“It’s part of the line of work, baby.”
Looking up from the scar I was fingering, I frowned. “Why are you doing it?”
He hesitated a moment, his smile faltering, but the smile returned as he unzipped his pants, hooked his thumbs into the waistband and pushed them down. “Because I’m good at it.” His pants fell to the floor, puddling at his feet. He stepped out of them, kicking them to the side, leaving him in just his boxer briefs, containing an impressive bulge.
“Yeah, but…”
Grabbing me by the waist, he lifted me and tossed me further up on the bed, toward the center. “It’s not the only thing I’ve become very, very good at.”
The heat in his eyes as he looked down at me as he crawled over my body made my mind dump the worry over his scars and his occupation as need flared up within me, stronger than ever. “Is that so.”
“Uh-huh. Indeed it is.” He lowered his head and kissed my abdomen. I squirmed under him, my pussy clenching in anticipation. His hands did short work of the button and zipper on my jeans. Grabbing the waistband, he yanked them down, lifted my legs, pulled my jeans off and threw them to the floor to join the growing pile of clothing, leaving me in only my lacy panties that matched my bra. I heard a faint ting sound as my pants hit the floor and my heart stopped beating a moment – the ring.
I watched his expression, praying he didn’t hear what I did. He didn’t seem to as his mouth returned to my stomach and gradually made its way lower. With each inch my panties grew wetter. By the time his lips made it to the waistband and his head perked up and eyes met mine, the crotch of my panties had become saturated with my desire.
His gaze, so intense and hungry, made me tremble.
“Are you okay? Cold?”
I nodded. “Yes. I mean, I’m fine.” My words came out in one breath. “I want this.” I didn’t just want this, I needed it. I needed to be touched and connect with someone I could trust, someone who wouldn’t hurt me. Constantine never would, I knew this with all my heart. So, yes, I needed this.
“Good.” He smiled again. “Either way, you wouldn’t be for long…” Dipping his head again, he caught the top of my panties in his teeth and tugged at them, pulling them down. I lifted my bottom and they slid down. The cool air teased my wet pussy and I squirmed, a soft little moan escaping me.
“Damn, I love those little sounds you make,” he murmured, kissing his way back up my inner thigh.
Closer and closer he got to the apex between my legs. The anticipation was killing me while the heat of his breath sent shivers through me. I love foreplay, absolutely love, but by the time his lips reached their destination the only thing I wanted was him inside me, fucking me into oblivion.
“Constantine, please.” I closed my eyes and tried to relax as he forced my thighs further apart.
“Please, what?” He slipped his fingers between my folds and spread me, exposing my clit. Dipping his head again, his tongue lashed out and flicked my clit.
