Page 62 of Sunshine & Sinful

FIFTEEN

“Sweets.” A gentle pat on the ass jostles me awake.

Yawning quietly into the welcoming valley between his pecs dusted in the right amount of curly hair, I blink a handful of times to remember where I am before I look up and meet a pair of soft-edged grays seeking mine.

“Did I snore?” I chuckle and peck the center of his chest, wearing the silliest lopsided smirk.

He returns a smirk like he finds my question endearing. “Nope. I don’t think so. I passed out, too.”

“Guess we needed that. Huh?” My fingertips trail up his ribs to his chest, where my middle and pointer fingers dance the jig around his nipple. Each of them act as legs, supporting my top-heavy hand.

Sunshine snorts but lets me have my way as his stomach vibrates against mine in silent laughter. On accident, my middle finger catches his nipple, and he sucks in a sharp breath.

“Sweets,” he warns when his body betrays him, and the thing hidden in his pants rises to the occasion. So, Iwas right, pain does excite him. Maybe not Sunshine the man, but the specific part of his anatomy seems to take notice.

To prove my theory, I rest my cheek on his opposite pec and continue my finger dance. Each time my nail scrapes his nipple, his entire body jolts, electrified. It’s incredibly hot.

On the fourth pass, his hand clamps on my side, on the fleshy part, just below my ribs. I can’t tell if it’s in warning or to make me stop, but when I peek up at his face, a mask of what can only be described as pleasure covers his features.

I try again, hurting his poor nipple, but this time, I pay close attention to his expression and how his dick reacts. He winces, but his cock bucks, and the hand on my side trembles as his fingers dig into my flesh, making my pussy clench.

Desperate to see how far I can take this before he forces me to stop, I pinch and roll his nipple hard. Then harder.

Sunshine’s neck elongates, and he moans before inhaling harshly through his nose.

Careful not to disrupt this sensual, experiential bubble we’re in, I slowly turn my head and suck his other nipple as I pinch its twin. His back arches off the mat, breath stuttering out of his lungs. In response, wetness slickens my swollen folds, not giving a damn he wrecked them just yesterday. She’s ready for him now. I’m ready for him now. One move, and I could free his erection and slide him home right where it belongs. But I don’t. This isn’t about me or my pleasure. This is about him. It’s about trust.

Taking it another step further, I bite and nibble on his peaked nipple, then lave the sting away. The harder I play, the more pain I incite, and the more intense his reactions are. Moans grow louder, deeper. His entire frame stiffens. Fingers bruise my flesh, but I don’t stop. Not unless he begs me.

I don’t stop when I slide a hand between our bodies and into his sweats.

Not when I grip his raging hard-on, damp with precum.

Or when I dig my short nails into his shaft, and he keens the sexiest, broken sound I’ve ever heard in my life.

The late afternoon sunlight dances across his sharp features and the gray of his beard as I watch on. The squeeze of his eyes. The flare of his nostrils when I cup his balls, and he spreads his legs enough for me to roll them in my palm before applying pressure.

“Fuck,” he grunts.

Ah. So, his balls are his weak spot—the man’s undoing.

Oh, how I revel in the power. In the knowledge.

And he lets me.

Nipping his nipple then the next, not wanting either to feel unloved, I destroy his poor balls. Squeezing and twisting them until sweat blooms across his brow and his mouth pops open in a soundless scream.

His violent shudder nearly topples me over, but I don’t relent. Not yet. Not until he’s done.

Wanting to test another theory, just in case I might be right, I sit up and scoot back until I’m straddling his thighs. Sunshine lifts his hips just enough for me to tug hissweats down to expose his precious cargo. Then I squish his thighs together with my own, forcing his balls to hug the underside of his erection.

They’re big. Heavy. Dusted in a smattering of hair.

My mouth waters as I drag the tip of my finger up to his wet cockhead as it drips precum like a fountain.

Using its offering to my advantage, I coat my palm and get to real work—jacking his thick, veiny shaft and abusing his precious jewels.

I slap his nuts.

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