Page 21 of All I Want

She released her grip on his hair to flip on the lights, and he stopped at the foot of the bed, slowly lowering her to the comforter. She held on to his shoulders, forcing him to follow her down until he was stretched out on top of her, her curves molding to his hardness, his cock pressing incessantly to her belly.

She twined her legs to lock around his hips, rubbing her heated center against his arousal, and his body rocked against her, his brain no longer in control as she drove him to distraction.

He rolled them, pulling her on top of him and she sat up, grinding against his stomach, his muscles clenching with need. She leaned back, pulling his shirt from his waistband, trailing her fingers over his skin. She pushed his shirt up, and he lifted his shoulders, yanking the fabric over his head and sending it sailing across the room.

Her hands skimmed over his chest, her nails scraping his nipples, and he sucked in a rattled breath, his cock hardening to the point of pain against her ass. She knew all of his buttons, and he wanted her to press every last one of them.

“Oh, Alex,” she moaned, leaning over him and peppering kisses along his jaw and throat. Her tongue traced his lips, but she pulled back before he could seal the kiss.

Her hands moved to her waist to strip off her shirt. His palms immediately rose to cup her satin-covered breasts, the pale blue material was soft against his hands, but he wanted to feel her skin against his. She reached around, popping the clasp on her bra, the straps sliding down her arms as he pulled the scrap of satin away.

And then her perfect breasts were in his palms. The weight was familiar, and he plucked at her nipples, relishing in her shudder. He knew all of her buttons, too.

He sat up, taking one breast into his mouth, swirling his tongue over the pebbled tip as she gripped his shoulders and called out his name.

Nothing had ever sounded sweeter.

He looked up at the glorious sight of her head thrown back, her soft pants of need echoing through the stillness in the room.

One hand sank into his hair, and she tugged on his scalp, holding him to her body and shuddering in his arms when he moved to her other breast and continued to torment her.

“Too many clothes,” she gasped out, shifting against his cock, and his tight jeans were in full agreement.

He rolled her underneath him and kissed down her body, nipping along her waist, her belly trembling under his lips.

“Alex,” she moaned. “Hurry.”

“So demanding,” he murmured against her stomach.

He popped open the button on her jeans and tugged the denim down her legs, pressing a kiss over her panties as she squirmed beneath him.

He tossed her jeans aside, standing between her spread thighs. Her eyes blazed with heat, her cheeks bright pink, and he wanted to rip the final scrap of fabric that covered where he wanted to feast the most.

She shimmied out of her panties, giving him a smirk when she dropped the bit of satin to the floor.

“Fuck,” he groaned when she reached for his waistband.

He held his breath; the sound of his zipper parting was the only thing he could hear.

She dipped her hand into his boxer briefs, her fingers cupping his cock with a squeeze that sucked all the air from his lungs.

Holy fucking hell.

He couldn’t stop himself from pumping into her hands.

She leaned forward, her tongue darting out to taste him, to trace along the head. His entire body shook with need as she took the tip of his cock into her mouth, her hand gripping his length and controlling how much of him she took into her mouth. His jeans pulled tight along his thighs as she sucked the head.

While he wanted nothing more than to watch her lips around his cock, he wanted to be inside her body, to sink into the warm heat he’d never forgotten. He pulled back, his cock falling from her lips with a pop as they both quaked with desire.

“I need to be inside you, Maggie.” His voice was rough as he stripped off his pants and boxer briefs, grateful that he’d toed off his socks and shoes while they decorated the tree. Hopping around to remove his socks with his bits—his large bits, thank you very much—swinging about was not sexy.

“Please, Alex, hurry,” she said, reaching out for him.

“Not just yet. Turnabout is fair play,” he said, then dropped to his knees.

“Oh god, yes,”Maggie moaned, one hand gripping the comforter, her other hand locked in his soft hair as his mouth met the apex of her thighs.

His tongue traced her lower lips before finding her clit, and she arched into his mouth. He draped an arm over her hips, holding her in place as he destroyed her ability to do anything aside from writhe on the bed and gasp his name.

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