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My chest rises and falls, waiting with anticipation for what he’ll do next. He hooks both thumbs in the straps at my shoulders and tugs them down my arms.
My breasts pop forth, my nipples hard little nubs tightening under his scrutiny.
“Gorgeous. Stunning.”
He spins me around and finds the fastening for my costume bottom, undoing it and letting it fall to the floor. Then the rest of the costume follows.
He guides me to the bed, bends to slip off my heels, then runs his palms along my legs, up my calves, to my thighs. “You have the softest, silkiest skin. I can’t get enough of touching you.”
His voice is guttural, filled with desire, with hunger, with need. He presses a kiss to my knee and makes a trail of them up the inside of my thigh, his destination clear.
My belly quivers, and I writhe and lift my hips. I lie before him, naked, vulnerable, ready.
He reaches for his belt buckle, and my eyes drop, following his motions as he works it open. He takes out his hard dick, and I sink my teeth into my lip. His eyes lock on mine as he stands over me. The power dynamic is not lost on me.
I can see the need to take me glittering in his pupils, and my heart pounds and my blood rushes through my veins.
He keeps himself in check. His willpower to control his body is impressive. He strokes my hair and cups my cheek, tilting my face to his. “I want to savor every moment with you, pretty slave girl.”
“Yes,” I whisper. “Anything you desire.”
He pulls a short strip of condoms from a drawer and tosses them on the bed next to me. My head twists to look, seeing how many times he plans to take me. A thrill shoots through me.
It’s going to take all night. I don’t think I’ll get any sleep.
He gets naked, and my gaze roams over him. His cock stands long and hard. He grasps the thick shaft and strokes it, root to crown.
My chest rises and falls, and I bite my bottom lip.
“My beautiful prize. The image of that pretty mouth wrapped around my dick is all I can think of. I haven’t been able to get it out of my mind since the other night.” He grabs my ankles, and drags me to the end of the bed.
I gasp, sliding along the bedspread.
“Baby, the way your eyes flare tells me everything I need to know. You like being manhandled, don’t you? You like me taking control, don’t you?”
He doesn’t wait for my answer, just drops to his knees and puts my thighs over his shoulders.
In all the time I’d been with Elliott, he never did this, never gave me this type of pleasure, never performed this sex act on me.
At the first stroke of his thumb over my pussy, I jump.
“I can’t wait to taste my prize,” he murmurs, his voice deep with desire. He strokes me again, slow and easy.
My body responds, and I can feel a rush of wetness. He dips his head for a taste.
The first swipe of the flat of his tongue has me shuddering and moaning. He goes back for more, again and again, until I’m lifting my hips, seeking his mouth.
His tongue tunnels inside my wet channel, and then up to seek and circle my clit. I jump again, then buck against him.
He grasps the back of my knees and pins me to the bed. Then he takes his sweet time, spending endless time on the sensitive bud that he coaxes out, until my hands are fisting handfuls of the bedspread.
He releases one leg and slips two fingers into my tight pussy.
I moan.
“So wet for me, aren’t you?” He strokes with his fingertips, searching out that secret spot deep inside me, while his thumb draws circles around my clit, both motions sending me into a spin until I don’t know which sensation to focus on.
My eyes are closed, and my mouth parts.
