What the fuck?
“I’ve waited so long for you,” he said, touching my hair. “It’s been torture.”
I gulped and glanced at the silky material around my wrists before I tried tugging on them. He suddenly buried his face into my hair and began to sniff me like a basset hound.
“Sirah, you should have been named Siren,” he said with a soft sigh before his lips brushed against my neck. “My personalised siren.”
I couldn’t focus on his touch and make sense of his words. It had been months since I had any intimacy. His lips worked up my neck, and his beard tickled my sensitive skin. I felt his warm breath rush out against my jaw. I closed my eyes and held my breath.
“We are under the mistletoe,” he said with a smirk.
My eyes shot open, and my lips parted at the stupidity of his comment. He climbed over me and knelt with his legs on either side of my stomach. His eyes had a satisfied, smug look, but he swooped down and took advantage of my parted lips.
His kiss was slow, deep and when his tongue slipped into my mouth an involuntary moan escaped from my lips. I felt his fingers curl around my wrists as he held them down. His bulky body rubbed against me, and when I felt his stiff cock brush against my pussy, I gasped. The touch was fleeting and I knew I was in trouble when a dull ache throbbed within my core.
The bastard moved down and ground himself against my pussy again while his tongue lashed against mine violently. With a growl, he released my wrists and ripped my pyjama top open. Buttons went flying, but he didn’t care. He stared at my bare breasts with—reverence.
“Oh, how I missed these dark beauties,” he groaned before his mouth closed over my nipple.
His hand slid down my belly and into my pyjama bottoms.
“No,” I whispered, not because I didn't want to feel his touch but because I knew he would feel how wet I was.
He made a loud smacking noise with his lips as he released my nipples, but then he began to swirl his tongue around it. His fingers crept over my pubis, and he pushed his hand between my clenched thighs until I yielded to him.
He moved to my other breast and began to suck on my nipple so hard that it felt painful, but his fingers began to dance along my opening. My thighs relaxed, and I panted in pleasure as his fingers slid inside me. He kept his palm against me, and the pressure against my clit made my pussy twitch around his fat fingers.
My back arched off the bed, and my head sank into the soft pillows when he began to fuck me with his fingers. The combined attack on my nipples as he pumped his fingers in and out of me had me on edge.
“Saul…” I gasped out his name, and his head jerked up. His lips were still parted from his attack on my nipple.
His fingers stilled inside of me, and I clenched around them.
“Condom,” I said because I might want to take part in this madness, but I wasn't going through getting tested again.
His eyes narrowed on me before he nodded. He reached over to me again, and I inhaled his familiar scent. He quickly pulled his t-shirt over his head, and my eyes ran over his broad shoulders and muscled torso.
His pictures hadn't done him justice. He was toned to perfection and had a small trail of dark hair leading to what I hoped was a hefty package. My eyes were still on his six-pack when he pulled his sweatpants off. His long thick cock bobbed up and down as it sprung out of its confined space.
The smooth pink mushroom-shaped tip was dripping for me. His length was covered with a series of pulsating veins, and he was well groomed, but the shadow of his dark hair around his balls and thighs was still there.
One thing I could say for certain was that there was never a sock down his pants.
Chapter 12
Saul
It was a dream come true. Sirah, tied up on my bed, eyeing me with the same intense need that had eaten away at me for the last five months. I made a show of putting the condom on for her. I ripped the small packet open with my teeth. When I placed the condom over the tip of my cock, Sirah’s eyes were glued to me.
I hadn't expected her response to be this heated, but I sure as fuck wasn't about to complain. I rolled the condom over my dick before I slipped my fingers beneath her red pyjama bottoms and pulled them down. She had a small patch of curls above her pussy.
I fell in love with her big bouncy curls, and I loved the little triangle of curls above her cunt just as much. My cock twitched within the condom that I would be taking off shortly as my eyes took in her darker shade of labia only to target the deep dark pink peaking out, teasing me with its wet glistening opening.
Yes, fucking finally. Five months of incessant wanking and imagining what her pussy would look, taste, and feel like.
I spread her thighs open as wide as they would go and inhaled the familiar, sweet, musky scent. I replaced many of her panties because I took so many of hers from her laundry basket. I licked my lips before I slid my tongue along her pussy until I felt her soft hair against the tip of my tongue. Her soft gasp made me smile against her pubic hair.
She had no idea how long or how hard I would fuck her this Christmas. I buried my face into her cunt and began to eat her pussy like it was a five-course meal. I pierced my tongue into her delicious hole until she writhed around like a snake, trying to escape another predator.