Page 95 of Double Shot

He kneeled down in front of where I sat on the couch and smoothed his hands atop my thighs, walking forward the last half a pace or two, sort of stepping into me, right up against the couch. I parted my knees as he swept one of his big hands up into the back of my long locks, threading them between his fingers before making a fist. I made a surprised, choking sound as my hair tightened against my scalp with his grip and he gently tugged my head back, peering down at me from his superior height, even kneeling as he was.

“Too much?” he asked softly, and I smiled up at him.

“Not at all,” I whispered. “Not enough, actually.”

He smiled and brought his mouth slowly down to mine. “Oh, I’ll give you plenty, love,” he murmured and covered my mouth with his.

Usually, his kiss was light, something gentle, a questing tip of his tongue against my bottom lip begging for access. This kiss was not that. Not even close. This kiss was everything I needed it to be.

He plunged his tongue past my lips and conquered my mouth with his kiss. His tongue sweeping against mine, exploring, tantalizing, teasing with promise as he swept his other arm around me and pulled me right up to the edge of my seat against his body.

He got up slowly, bending with me, his one hand never leaving the back of my hair, giving me just enough room to rise with him.

When he’d kissed me breathless and panting, he tore his mouth from mine.

“Now, I’m going to march you, my pretty little poppet, by your hair to my bed and I’m going to fuck you until you scream my name.”

Oh, I liked the sound of that.

“Yes, please,” I uttered and felt a lascivious grin caress my lips.

He tore the dress I was wearing down the center and tossed it aside on the floor and did exactly as he promised, marching me nude, through the house, to his bedroom. Kicking the door shut behind us and marching me over beside the bed, forcing me down by my hair onto my knees in front of him before relinquishing his hold on me.

“I want you to suck my cock,” he said, pulling his black tee over his head and wadding it up between his hands.

I went for his tactical belt, and he pulled off his tank top beneath his tee, and settled his hands on his hips, his expression unreadable where he looked down on me.

I met his gaze and worked him out of his pants.

If this wasn’t at all his usual thing, he could have fooled me with how hard he was. I wrapped my lips around the head of his cock and teased the tip with my tongue and he groaned, closing his eyes and throwing back his head.

I worked my way down his shaft, teasing the underside of him with my tongue and blindly worked at the laces of the boot on his good leg to get it loosened up and off of him at some point.

“Oh, Sadie,yes,” he praised, sucking in a breath through his clenched teeth. One hand on his hip, the other drifting to caress my hair as he slowly thrust himself in and out of my mouth. I held still for him, and let him fuck my mouth, carefully secreting my teeth away behind my lips. He let me pull his boot off and I peeled his pants and boxers down his powerful thighs, while he worked himself and I practiced breathing around him as he reached further and further into the back of my throat.

“Touch yourself,” he commanded, and I parted my knees, dipping my fingers between my folds, closing my eyes at peace when I found myself so terribly wet. I teased my clit with my fingertips, plunging those same fingers inside of myself and whimpering when it just wasn’t enough.

He buried a hand in my hair again and with a scathing rush of air, pulled back, freeing himself from my mouth.

“Up, on your feet,” he commanded, and I got up. He tipped my head back and captured my mouth with his once again and trapped me between his big body and his bed at my back.

“Lie down, and let me look at you,” he commanded, and I scooted up on the bed, laying back, and watching him watch me…damn.

“I didn’t say stop, Poppet.”

I captured my bottom lip with my teeth and smiled, letting my hand drift down my body as he worked his pants off, and disengaged his prosthetic to let all of it fall to the floor. He climbed up onto the bed beside me, propping his head in his hand and letting his free hand drift down my body.

“Make yourself come for me, darling,” he murmured, and I went for broke, masturbating for him, bringing myself right up to that edge.

“That’s it,” he encouraged, before he dipped his head, taking one of my nipples into his mouth.

I groaned, and panted, breath becoming heavy, the air seemingly harder to drag in – thick like warm honey. The way his murmuring voice coated me with its golden warmth.

“Oh, God!” I cried, my back arcing off the bed, a shudder running through me as the pleasure coursed through every nerve and vein.

He chuckled darkly, and mounted me, sliding himself all the way in as I still pulsed around him, his big body a warm weight over mine, caging me, holding me together and keeping me from flying apart as he stroked deep and deeper still.

He delved his big arms beneath me, wrapping me up tightly in his embrace, trapping my arms to my sides as he grunted, the same grunt of appreciation he had when we sipped fine wine or a particularly nice brandy. He moaned my name and set a fierce pace.

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