Page 28 of Skin Deep

Pulling open the lid to the bottle of lube, he poured a generous pool into the palm of one hand. Setting the bottle down, he rubbed his hands together, warming the liquid before again cupping her breasts.

“Fuck,” Amy hissed as he massaged the cream-colored mounds. She pushed into his touch when he glanced his fingers over the turgid tips, but he focused his attention on making her breasts, and the crevice in between them, deliciously slick.

“Lie down.” He traced a single finger over one silver bar before picking up the bottle of lube again. She did as he said, propping herself up on her elbows to watch as he took another generous palmful of the lubricant, this time applying it to his swollen length.

“I love your cock.” Her voice was rough, as though she hadn’t spoken in a week. He felt himself thicken at the words, but otherwise ignored them, instead straddling her hips.

“Doesn’t matter if you love it or not,” he informed her, sliding his hand up and down his engorged shaft, feeling the pleasure sparking along the nerves left in the wake of the touch. “You’re going to do what I want with it, anyway.”

“Yes,” she replied on a hiss, dropping to a fully supine position on the carpet. Bending her knees, opening wide, she cupped her breasts in her own hands, panting with excitement. “Is this what you had in mind?”

“I guess we’ll see.” He smirked again before ranging himself over her body. He longed to use her parted thighs to cradle his pelvis, to slide himself home and fill her over and over and over again.

Instead he moved farther up her body. Bracing his weight with an arm on either side of her head, he slid the tip of his erection between her breasts, his eyes almost crossing from the pleasure.

“Can you reach your nipples?” He slid forward just a bit, savoring the sensation of her snug flesh around him. She nodded, breathless, and he worked forward the rest of the way. “Good. Play with them while I fuck your tits.”

Another harsh sound from her, and then she did as he asked. Her artist’s palms cupped her breasts, holding them together as he worked his cock back and forth in the slippery space between them. At the same time, she used her talented fingers to pluck at her nipples, much harder than he would have dared.

He could sense her arousal reaching a fever pitch. Her hips bucked beneath him, and she craned her neck so that she could swipe a warm tongue over the swollen head of his erection as he thrust. Swearing, he pulled out of the warm hollow, the sudden cool air on his engorged shaft making him crazy. She cried out as he flipped her over to her belly, using bossy hands to pull her hips up while she remained bent over.

“You keep trying to take control,” he chastised her, placing a hand on the small of her back, pinning her in place. He was in his role now, the one she’d wanted him to take on, and enjoying every second of it. “Every time you do, it’s just going to postpone what you really want.”

“How do you know what I really want?” Her words were meant to taunt but quivered with arousal. With need.

“Because you told me.” With his free hand, he pulled back, then swatted her across one side of her ass. She gasped, that tight, delicious body jolting forward on the carpet. Her pale skin reddened, and he knew he should feel bad about that, but truthfully...

Truthfully, seeing it glow scarlet, watching the mark from his hand on her skin? It did it for him, dug a hook into some primal part of himself and pulled it forward into the light.

His biggest kink was, and always would be, giving his partner—giving Amy—what she wanted.

But this?

This was really fucking hot.

Bending over her, he delivered a second swat, this time to the other cheek. Again she cried out, a wordless jumble of sound, and when he massaged the heated skin, she rubbed her thighs together as if searching for a friction that would give her some relief.

“Please.” She canted her behind in the air, the pretty pink peeking out from between her legs making his mouth go dry. He swatted her sharply again, then delivered a rapid succession of lighter blows that rained down over her flesh, which elicited a series of whimpers, gasps and moans. “Fred. I can’t wait any longer.”

“You’ll wait as long as I tell you to wait.” He swiped two questing fingers between her folds. She was soaked, hot and wet, and his cock ached to slide inside. Tamping down the urge, he worked those fingers into her slick channel. “Lucky for you, this is where I want to be. I want to be here so badly it hurts.”

Climbing to his feet, he worked his jeans the rest of the way off, taking his underwear with them. Tearing into one of the little foil packets he’d retrieved from his bedside table, he rolled the ring of latex down his shaft, then turned his attention back to her.

His dick was already at attention, rigid and swollen with the need to be inside her. But as he looked at her there, on the floor of his apartment, he felt something flutter around his heart. She was beautiful, sure—the graceful arch of her spine, the riot of skulls and wildflowers inked into the smooth skin of her back, the heart shape of her ass—but it was more than that.

After a lifetime constrained in a little box made of the expectations of others, he was free to be who he wanted with this woman. More than that—she expected it from him. Demanded it.

He never wanted to let her go.

“Up.” He held out a hand to help her off the floor. She stood on shaky legs, and he spun her until they were face-to-face, where he could claim her mouth in a kiss. Dipping his head to hers, he coaxed his tongue between her lips as he lifted her off her feet. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her to the window. They both groaned at the friction of skin on skin as he set her back down on her feet, his cock pressing into the flat surface of her belly.

“Turn around.” His hands skimmed her body as she followed his order. A gasp escaped her lips at the discovery that she was an inch from the floor-to-ceiling window of glass, thirty floors above the streets of Boston. “Is this still what you want?”

“Yes.” She shivered.

“You’re not afraid of heights?” He spanned her waist, his grip promising to catch her if she fell. Rather than push back into his touch, she closed that last ribbon of space between herself and the window.

“No.” She settled her smooth cheek against the cool glass. “I love them.”

---