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Before I take a closer look at the intricate tattoo, he’s pushing me down and climbing on top of me, making the mattress dip. He carefully lowers himself over me until his thick erection is nestled between our bodies, puts down his elbows beside my head, and starts kissing me.
Oh Lord. I’ve been kissed before. Heck, he’s kissed me before—but this is something completely different. He’s fucking my mouth with his tongue, sucking on my lips, and every stroke and thrust of his tongue sends a wave of wet heat between my legs.
He pushes my coat off and I wriggle out of it. He sits up, grabs the hem of my sweater and lifts it off.
“Oh yeah,” he murmurs, his gaze fastening on my bra-covered boobs, a slow smile lifting his lips. “I remembered right.”
“Remembered what?” I’m reaching for his zipper, wanting him out of his clothes, too.
“How pretty you are.”
My throat tightens. I shouldn’t let his words affect me. This is just sex. He’s only being nice.
So I unzip his pants and shove my hand inside, rewarded by a deep gasp and a roll of his slim hips.
“Fuck, babe.” He catches my wrist, giving a breathless laugh. “Not so fast. I have plans for the evening.”
“Plans.” I curl my fingers around his thick hard-on, because he’s going commando tonight, and God, it’s bigger than I remembered. “Like, take me to a classic music concert, or an opera? That’s what you normally do, right?”
He laughs again, and I like the sound. Deep, and playful. “Nah, not my style. Also, I don’t play the piano. Just FYI.”
“Damn.” I grin at him, and he braces himself over me, letting me pull down his leather pants. They slip down more easily than I expected, freeing his cock, and it swings a little, the barbells flashing as it slaps my belly.
He groans. “Fuck, I think the plans are on hold. Need to fuck you first.”
Crude. And hot.
Yeah, he doesn’t seem like the opera-going, piano-playing kind, and know what? That’s fine by me. I don’t think I could deal with any pussyfooting and discussing art before sex.
Not when I want him this badly.
“Condom.” He groans again, his hard-on sliding over my stomach as he flexes up, stretching his arms and looking down at me. “In my jacket. Fuck.”
He pulls away to get it and I start undoing the clasp of my skirt. Need to feel him on every inch of my skin. Although he called and we’re here now, I’m back where I began—scared it won’t happen again.
But he’s back on the bed, tearing the foil open and covering his cock, allowing me a good look at the silver metal piercing the head. So sexy. Never thought a man’s cock would make my mouth water and my body arch.
“The skirt. And the boots.” He reaches for my legs. “Leave them on.”
Speechless I watch as he pulls my panties off, all the way down and off me. As he spreads my legs and rubs his thumb down my seam, opening me. As my skirt pools around my hips, baring me to him completely.
Then he lifts his thumb to his mouth and sucks it off, his eyes growing hooded and dark, and I moan, my insides clenching at the sexiness of it.
“Sweet,” he whispers and lowers himself over me, one hand guiding his cock into me. The head bumps my entrance, and then he’s sliding in, a slow, pleasurable drag that has me arching against him.
“God…” So good. On the edge of painful, but frigging perfect. I clutch at his hips, then slide my hands inward, where we’re joined.
His powerful body is racked by fine tremors as he slowly pushes into me, his abs clenched so hard they feel like smooth, carved rock where my hands are touching them.
He pushes deeper, and my eyes all but roll up in my head. His hips rock and he grabs and lifts my legs over his hips, one after the other, boots and all.
Allowing him to bury himself in all the way. A gasp escapes him, and when I can finally pry my lids open to see, I find his eyes wide with something akin to shock.
“Holy fuck,” he whispers, and I’d say the same if I had any breath left. “You okay?”
I love that he asks me, and it’s cute, too, like he’s aware his dick is pretty big and that he can cause physical damage.
At my nod, he starts to move, and things escalate fast from there. The pressure increases, the pleasure ratchets up, until I’m holding on to his arms for dear life, shocked at the needy sounds leaving my mouth.
