Page 27 of Skin Deep

The connection stretched between them as always, velvety and full of promise, but this time it held a whisper of darkness. Something about seeing Amy here, on her knees before him... He’d touched her eagerly, and he’d touched her carefully. Right now? He wanted to give in to the restless storm brewing between them, to combine his thunder with her lightning.

The navy glitter in her eyes told him she wanted that, too.

With his free hand, he grasped the full length of his erection. He stroked his hand up the shaft, slid over the head and back, a handful of times as Amy watched with greedy eyes. With the hand tangled in her hair, he guided her head until her lips touched the swollen tip of his cock.

“I’m not going to be able to keep things gentle this time,” he told her, his voice dark, so rough he almost couldn’t recognize it. “If anything is too much, just say so. Or if you can’t, just do something three times. Got it? Blink, or hit me, or whatever. Three times, and I’ll stop. Okay?”

“Okay.” Her breath warmed his shaft, damp and warm. Anticipation was a drug, sliding through his veins and making him high. “But I’ll tell you now... I won’t.”

Before he could speak, she parted her lips and took him into her mouth. Her tongue explored the weight of his arousal, stroking the underside of his shaft with practiced motions that made him see stars. She kept her eyes open, watching him as she worked on him with her warm, wet mouth.

Following an instinct he hadn’t known he had, he sank the hand that had been holding his shaft into her tousled blond curls as well. He saw her eyes widen when he used his grip, which was still gentle enough, to hold her in place.

She hummed around him, the vibration working through his flesh, and his fingers flexed against the flaxen silk of her hair, working her forward on his cock. When he would have eased off, she placed her palms on his thighs to steady herself, the tips of her fingers digging into the muscle while her blue gaze brightened.

She’d liked that, having that bit of control taken away from her. And if it was what she wanted, then he wanted to give it to her.

“You were right,” he started, using his grip to pull her back slightly, then move her forward again, taking charge of her movements on his cock. “I do like it when you put things into your mouth.”

She swallowed around him, and he groaned. She liked that, too, that bit of dirty talk, so he closed his eyes for a moment, then let what he was thinking, feeling, spill off his tongue without censure.

“I wonder if you like it as much as I do,” he pondered out loud as vibrant colors swirled behind his closed eyelids. She moaned around him, and he parted his lashes to look at her again. “Your skin is flushed such a pretty pink from sucking me, I think you do. But I wonder if I can make you like it even more.”

Bending slightly from the waist, he cupped a gorgeous breast in each hand, felt the sensation of another of her inarticulate cries muffled by his cock in her mouth. Squeezing softly, he stroked his thumbs over the tips of her nipples, felt her body jerk in response.

“I’ve been fascinated by these little bits of jewelry since the first time I saw you, standing there in that bar, your shirt so sheer that I could see them, plain as day.” Her sucking faltered, and he stopped in his ministrations until she understood her error and resumed. “But we’re always in a hurry, aren’t we? I’ve never had nearly enough time to play with these gorgeous tits as I’d like to.”

She whimpered when he released her, but he only did so long enough to wet his fingers in his mouth. He returned his hands to those soft, creamy mounds, this time catching each nipple between a thumb and forefinger, rolling and teasing to see what elicited a response.

The rosy peaks were already puckered from his touch, but when he gave a light tug to each silver bar, Amy’s body bucked, as though he had stroked a finger right over her clit. Fascinated, he did it again and felt her nipples contract and harden, crinkled beneath his fingers.

First the gentle hair pull, now the pinches on her breasts. It seemed that Amy liked a bit of pain with her sex, or at least that she wanted it right now. Fred had never really been into pain play, not anything beyond a bout of rough sex, but something about these responses from this woman reached inside him and turned his blood to lava.

Catching the silver bars in his fingers, he pulled again, and again she moaned and writhed with a whole-body response. He did it again, adding a twist, and her lips parted, his swollen cock falling from her tongue as she panted, hands digging into his muscles.

“Fuck, yes. Fred.” Her spine arched as she tried to press herself more firmly into his touch, her entire body begging for more. “More.”

He did, adding a squeeze to the soft, fleshy mounds as well, and she closed her eyes. Again moving on instinct, as though he’d been possessed by a darker self with more taboo desires, he took his hands from her breasts and caught her chin in one hand.

“Did I say you could stop sucking me?” His whole body stilled, a stark contrast to the quivering of the woman on her knees. He caught a flicker of apprehension in her eyes, but it was twined with debauched delight.

They were on.

“No.” She exhaled the word, her smoky voice like a siren’s. “You should probably punish me.”

Punish her?

He should have been revolted. Turned off. Instead he saw that this was what she wanted, what her body craved, and he knew he’d do anything to give it to her. He didn’t care what her kinks were, so long as she let him give her what she needed.

“Damn straight, I should.” He cocked his head as he took in the eagerness in her body. “I want you to sit on your heels, hands in your lap. Do not move.”

She hummed under her breath, a soft sound of satisfaction. It was physically painful for him to move away from her, but he needed something from his bedroom for what he had planned next.

In his bedroom, he pulled a bottle of lube from his bedside drawer, and a silver strip of condoms as well. These items in hand, he returned to the living room and found Amy exactly as he’d left her, but for one difference—her busy fingers were buried between her thighs, one hand stroking in and out, and the other circling her clit.

“Oh no, you don’t.” Bending, he caught her by the wrists, forced her to stop touching herself. She laughed, a breathy sound meant to bait him. When she saw the answering smirk on his own face, the amusement faded from hers, replaced with that hint of anxiety again, as well as an undeniable streak of need.

“If you need something to occupy your hands, then I have just the job.” He let the corner of his mouth curl up just slightly and heard her needy sigh. “But I have to get you ready first.”

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