10
Tilly
My entire body is tingling. And I’m embarrassed—or at least I was until Dexter…
I had no idea my breasts were that sensitive.
His fingers skate over my skin, and his lips follow. He truly does an amazing job of worshiping because I have never felt so adored. Desired.
Sexy.
“So beautiful,” he murmurs, gathering both of my breasts together so he can lave my nipples.
“I can’t get enough,” he says before suckling one hard enough to make me gasp. Not with pain, but because it feels like there’s a string attached from my nipple to between my legs. It’s nonstop jolts of desire.
But soon, I’ve had enough. I want more.
I slid my hand along his side, feeling the taut muscles tensing under my touch. Down over his hip to his front.
I want to touch his cock.
It’s a cock this time, not a penis. It would be impossible for a penis to make me feel that good.
As soon as my searching fingers touch his tip, Dexter lifts his head. “I’ll have to stop if you touch that,” he warns.
“I want…” I have to swallow before I can find the words. “I want you inside me.”
“Yeah?” Dexter runs a hand down my stomach before I can suck it in, but it suddenly doesn’t matter because his hand is between my legs.
Which open automatically, like an elevator door.
Dexter circles my nub and I gasp. “Maybe you do.”
“Please,” I whisper.
“Oh, Tilly, I’m a sucker for a polite girl.”
I lift my hips to press against his hand. “Please, Dexter.”
He kisses me instead of answering, his tongue meeting mine as his finger thrusts inside me.
I moan into his mouth, but he keeps kissing me, mouth slanting over mine, lips moving against mine. All the while his fingers are teasing and touching and stroking, using a rhythm that comes naturally to him.
And to me because while I’m kissing Dexter, hands gripping his thick hair, my hips piston against him. “Please,” I whimper.
His mouth is gone, ripped away, but it’s okay, because he’s getting a condom.
The sound of a foil-wrapped square being ripped open has never sounded so sweet.
And then Dexter is lying on his back, urging me up and over so I can straddle him.
He wants me on top and I… I’m not used to this. It’s been too long. What will I look like in that position? I can’t…
He must see it on my face. “I want you on top,” he instructs. “I want to watch you fucking my cock like that.”
The air leaves my lungs in a soft huff. The way he talks to me—he holds himself upright as I lower myself onto him. Slowly, one inch at a time, because I like the way his eyes darken as he watches me.
“You like that, don’t you? You like fucking my cock.”