Page 19 of Jonesing for a Spy

“I want your shirt off. I know what your chest looks like and I want to touch it as I ride you. In the meantime…” I lift my hips and grab his jeans and boxers, making quick work of pulling them to his knees.

Two thunks must mean his shoes have hit the floor. I was naked, and he was dressed down to his shoes. Writhing underneath me is soon met with the sound of his jeans and belt meeting his shoes in a pile behind me. Shirt gone and tossed overhead, we’re both equally naked.

I stroke his shaft from root to just below the base of his mushroomed head, rolling around the rim as his low, rumbling groan fills the room. Dipping down, I suck the head into my mouth, tonguing his slit with a wide flat stroke.

“Fuck. God, fuck.” His hands reach for my face but change direction and grip my comforter. “Mirren, that’s— Fuck.” The word drags from his lips, dying upon its escape.

I suck harder, pumping my hand along the length of him, only to pull off, and suck his balls into my mouth one at a time, watching him bow off the bed.

He chants my name, and his pelvis stretches as if straining to get closer.

I lick up the underside of his shaft, rolling his sac in my hand, and suck on the head hard.

His hands go flat on the bed, and he attempts to withdraw, but I follow him down, flicking his slit, tasting precum and humming.

“No.” The first one is weak. The second is strangled but louder. “No.”

Arms come under me and drag me up his body until we’re face to face, my hair curtaining us both from the rest of the world. “I don’t want to come. Not yet. The first time, and the second through the fifth, will be inside you, and not in your mouth. Sometime after I’ve had your pussy in the double digits, you can finish that amazing blowjob and suck me off. But not today.”

In the double digits? Does he think I’m bionic?

I don’t ask. In fact, I stop thinking at all when I feel his cock at my entrance. Forgetting all about everything but right now, I slide over him, using that bulbous head to stimulate my clit, and throw my head back, engrossed in feeling him on me.

Through gritted teeth, he offers, “There’s a condom in my wallet.”

“I’m tested...” Shit. He doesn’t need to know my job. I change it up as a slide against his length. “The Army was diligent. I’m clear.”

“Same.”

I slide up. “And I’m on birth control.” His head bumps at my entrance and a thrill and something I can’t name zings through me.

“I’ve never—” The sentence dies as I take him past my entrance and push over him inch by inch by deep inch.

Strider

Holy fucking fuck. Is this what I’ve been missing? I had no idea. And thank God I didn’t, because this is ruinous.

She’s tight and slick and so damn hot. Every nerve along my cock lights up like a live wire. I fight to keep my eyes open, to watch her face as she sinks over me, sheathing me to the root. I hit the end of her and don’t know whether to grit my teeth or scream and beat my chest.

She moans as she takes me fully and seems to be fighting the same battle.

“Need you to move, baby.” My voice is gentle, but my words are firm.

She holds a single finger up between us, her eyes dropping closed, and wiggles around me.

“Fuck you feel good.” I thrust my pelvis, pushing myself deeper inside her tight heat.

Mirren’s eyes fly open and, with a move designed to put me in an early grave, she squeezes her inner muscles around me, pulling up, and giving me a smile that says she knows what she’s doing to me. She takes me again, deep, but way too damn slow.

“Mirren.”

“Oh, no, Strider. I specifically said I would be on top and that I planned to torture you. This is me accepting the dare.” She glides up and cool air meets my shaft, a direct contrast to the warmth of her body.

I thrust up, planting myself to the root, as she gasps. “Sit up, baby.”

She does as I direct, wiggling to situate herself with me deep inside her.

“Touch your tits.”