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With hands on my thighs, he presses my legs wide, and I relax, releasing a soft sigh as he kisses me slowly, moving up my thigh until his lips are hovering over my pussy. With each breath, I feel, and I shiver in anticipation. He takes his time, teasing me, until I can't take it anymore.
"Dixon," I say, my voice trembling with need. “Please, eat me.”
He responds to my plea. His tongue is a warm, wet promise sliding against my wet slit, and he makes good on that promise again and again.
"Oh, holy fuck," I gasp, arching beneath him as he brings me closer to the edge that I ache to fall from. With every swirl and flick of his tongue, the tension coils within me like a spring wound too tight. He senses it, too, intensifies his movements until I can't hold back any longer.
“Come for me, princess,” he whispers, the words vibrating against my sensitive clit. With a stroke of his finger and a flick of his tongue, my body tenses, then releases in a crashing wave of pleasure that leaves me breathless, shaking.
When I finally open my eyes, Dixon is watching me with an intensity that sends another shiver down my spine. He's waiting for me — waiting for me to come back down to earth before he claims his own release.
I shake my head, prompting a question to rise in his eyes.
“Not here,” I say. “My bedroom. I want you in my bedroom.”
I want to wrap him in my sheets; I want the smell of him — the smell of us, our bodies, our sex, the memory of this moment where things changed between us — in my bed, my blankets, my pillows. When I wake up, I want to smell it. I want to shut my eyes and relive every second.
“Lead the way, princess,” he says. That word doesn’t bother me anymore, not in the way he says it now. Instead, it thrills me.
I take his hand and pull him down the hall. There’s a smile on my face.
He follows, and I can feel his gaze on my bare skin as we move through the darkness, punctuated only by the soft glow of city lights filtering through the curtains. It's not just a walk; it's a procession toward everything wrong, everything right, and exactly what I want.
Once inside my bedroom, I release his hand and turn to face him. His eyes are still that dark shade of desire, but there's a vulnerability there too that he doesn't show to anyone else. It's intoxicating, knowing I hold such power over him.
I climb onto the bed, the mattress dipping beneath me, and beckon him to join me. Dixon doesn't hesitate. He kneels on the bed, straddling my hips, and for a moment we simply stare at each other — two people on the cusp of something neither fully understands.
“Do you want me to—”
“Lick my pussy for a moment before I make your cock explode? Yes.”
I reach up to touch his cheek, trailing my fingers along his jawline and down his throat, my fingers lingering there, savoring the touch of him. His pulse jumps under my touch. Then I pull him down for another kiss, this one softer than before.
“As you wish, princess,” he murmurs.
His lips touch mine again. And again. Each kiss deeper, more intense than the one before it. His hands roam down my neck, across my shoulders, my chest, to cup my breasts and tease my nipples — first a gentle stroke, then more, a pinch that makes me yelp in surprised delight — until I am gasping for him to touch and taste me lower.
Then he descends, trailing kisses as he goes, lower and lower until he's once again positioned between my thighs. His fingers toy with me first, tracing the lines of desire that map my body, learning every shiver and twitch that his touch provokes. He takes his time, building a fire within me that's eager to consume us both.
I watch him through hooded eyes, each glance a silent command urging him on, and Dixon understands perfectly. His tongue dances across my flesh with deliberate strokes designed to torture me with pleasure until the tension within me winds tighter still.
"Damn, you taste so good," he mumbles between kisses, his voice rough with desire.
I clutch at the sheets below me as the waves of pleasure crash over me once more, harder and longer this time. My nails dig into the fabric, barely holding onto sanity as I ride out the storm of sensation he's unleashed within me — hot and cold, heaven and hell, right and wrong — lightning bolts that strike me and leave me changed.
My climax leaves me spent, trembling in its wake.
"Your turn," I to gasp when I find my voice again. "I want to taste you. Come here, let me suck you."
Dixon groans and obliges, crawling up the bed and straddling my chest, his cock throbbing in front of my hungry mouth. I take him inside. His cock is hard in my mouth, hot, pulsing, and his hips jerk beneath my ministrations as he tries to maintain control, but I'm in control now. I'm the one in charge, and I will own his cock and wring every bit of pleasure out of it.
I bob my head up and down, taking him deeper, swirling my tongue around him, tasting the warm saltiness of his pre-cum, loving the thickness, the pulsing heat of his cock. I look up at him as I work, my gaze locked onto his, daring him to give in to desire and flood my mouth with his cum. He doesn't. Instead, he watches me, his eyes full of something new — desire, yes, but also something else, something I can't quite place.
As he nears the edge, I slow down, teasing him, prolonging the inevitable.
I want more than just his come in my mouth; if I’m going to cross every line I had with this man, I’m going to go all the way. My head moves slower, then slower still, until he’s panting, thrusting against me with desperate need. His jaw is tense with pent-up desire aching for release, and I take him out of my mouth and smile sweetly up at him.
“Alexandra, what the fuck? I’m so close…”
