Lifting his head, his eyes spark. “Jessie…”
“Rush.” I take the T-shirts and drop them, and I know he wants control, and yet he’s waiting for instruction.
It’s a crossroad, a precipice, and I want to fuck him, but if I do then I’m a goner. I’m never leaving him, so I kiss my way down his body, pushing him back until he hits his bed. I pull off the jeans and his underwear, and I climb on him, kissing him in those slow, drugging kisses he likes, the ones he’s got me hooked on, the kisses I jones for, bad.
I kiss and kiss him, and they take us over, sweeping me to a sea’s edge, but I just keep us there. Because I wonder…he’s a master of seduction, able to make clothes and women melt, but does anyone seduce him?
And so I kiss him, kneading his chest, sliding up that warm silk-covered muscle to his hair, and I curl my fingers into it, lick his lips, teasing kisses free, making him come at me with his mouth.
I tease in nuzzling bites, feathering to his ear to kiss and suck at his lobe, and then down, to taste the skin of his throat. I suck and lick and nibble on his pulse point, the erratic beat music in me, like his sighs and moans and the way he moves and undulates against me.
Slowly, I breathe in the power of this, the high of being the seductress, and I kiss back to his mouth, delving in, playing with his tongue as his hands come up to capture me, and I let him.
I can’t get enough of his mouth, and it seems, neither can he. We drink at each other, our lips needing the other, his hard on pushing against my ass.
There’s nothing I want more than to climb on him, fuck him.
But if I do, I’m lost.
So instead, I climb off, and make my way down, kissing and touching and tasting until I reach the most beautiful cock I’ve ever seen.
I’m dominating him in a way I’ve never done, before and he’s there, open, naked, at my mercy. I slide between his thighs, pushing the jeans and underwear all the way down only to kiss up his powerful thighs until I get to do what he hasn’t let me.
Explore.
I take the silk-covered steel, big and thick and start to slowly pull, moving the skin, and he hisses. Oh, Christ, he’s so fucking hard.
I rub my finger along the underside of his cock’s head, hitting that spot and he jumps, his cock jerking. I jerk him slowly, running my thumb over the head, and that spot each time.
His balls beckon as I learn the veins and weight of him, what drives him mad and what makes his hands grab at me.
I suck his balls into my mouth, and then lick and kiss and nibble on the sac.
“Fuck. Oh, fuck, goddamn it, fuck.”
I lift my head. “Your powers of pretty speech go out the window when you’re all hot and horny.”
“Suck my fucking cock, Jess. Please.”
I kiss his balls and play with them a little longer, teasing the moment, and then I lick and kiss my way up his shaft until I take him in my mouth.
Just the head. I stretch my lips to engulf it, to allow myself space to explore the tip, and that sensitive edge, and then I finally go down on him. I suck him in, all the way, gagging myself, bobbing up and down, slow, faster, slow, until I find the right beat to drive him mad. Using that, I suck him down and come up, down and up, until it gets shorter and shorter the amount of him that’s outside my mouth with each bob of my head.
His breathing’s ragged. Wild. He’s not even forming words and when he’s about to come, I ease off, just enough to make him curse me, and then, I do it all over again.
I suck him and hold him, massaging his balls and pushing a finger in his ass, and he cries out and rises off the bed, grabbing my head and jack hammering me until his cock pulses and he lets out a guttural cry. And he fills my throat and mouth with his cum.
When I swallow, I spend time lapping him, licking him, leaving that sensitive head until last.
He grabs me and drags me up him and kisses me long and slow and hard, his tongue dancing with mine. He must taste himself, and I fucking love he doesn’t care. It makes me want to climb him and jerk him back to full hardness and impale myself.
But I don’t. I pull free.
“Jess…”
I look at him. Fuck. I’m in love with him.
I was probably half in love with him the first time I saw him.