Page 5 of One Hot Night
“Bossy.” My gaze stutters at the sight of his broad chest, narrow trim waist, and glorious happy trail leading to the promised land. I swallow and offer up a silent prayer he isn’t sporting a micro-dick.
“Damn straight.” He pops the button on his jeans and slides the fly down with agonizing slowness. “That a problem?”
I stare, right at his crotch, waiting for a glimpse. “Only if I don't come.”
His lips spread in a wide grin and he shuffles forward, crowding me until the back of my legs hit the edge of his mattress. “First”—he reaches around my back and in one expert move unhooks the clasp of my bra. I gasp, bringing a smile to his lips—“I’m going to make you come with my fingers.” He runs his hands down my hips, tracing the elastic band of my thong until his grip is filled with my ass cheeks. He gives one side a slap and my breath hitches again.
Fuck. Why is his dominance so hot?
“And my mouth.” He dips his chin and his lips work along my neck to the valley between my breasts. His hands drag the straps of my bra off my arms to drop between us on the floor. Then his hungry mouth pulls one hard nipple in. He licks my breast with his tongue, leaning my body back in an arch. His arms hold me upright, barely, then they’re gone. I land on the mattress with a gentle thump.
“Then my dick.” He straightens and shucks his jeans.
Praise be. He’s big. Hard. Beautiful. Inside I give a little squeal because I just won the dick-lotto. Fucking hell. How does he walk around with that thing? It’s giant. Bigger than I’ve ever had. My legs press together as I imagine how he’ll feel inside.
His eyes dance with cocky assurance. He knows that thing’s a monster cock. Guess I’m not the only one with a cool party trick.
“Then fuck me already,” I say with a coolness I don’t really feel. My body aches for his touch, my need building. But he doesn’t need ego stroking, and I’m not the kind of woman to give it. Though I am eager to stroke something else right now. I back up on the mattress, widening my legs and then making grabby hands.
“You want this.” He grips himself, the length and girth of his hardness on full display.
I nod as a twinge of unease seeps into my consciousness. I’ve seen my fair share of penises, but his puts all others to shame. I have no doubt he’ll fit, but will he be too rough? It’s been awhile since I’ve done this. Pain is not my kink.
He grabs a condom from his bedside table then kneels on the bed, crawling forward to brace himself over me. His masculine presence is almost overbearing and his heavy erection juts out, stealing my attention.Fuck.Maybe it won’t fit.
His hand cups my chin, tilting my gaze back up to his. The pad of his thumb caresses my cheek and there’s a tenderness in his eyes. “This okay?”
Permission. He’s asking fucking permission. In that one question my nerves retreat and my confidence flares in its place. “I want to touch you,” I admit, my fingertips sliding down his chest toward his cut V. Jesus. He must work out constantly.
His dick bobs as if saying hello, and a soft chuckle leaves his mouth. “Someone’s happy to see you.” His amusement dies the second my fingers wrap around him. With our foreheads pressed together while our shallow breaths fill the room, he watches as I jack him off.
I stroke him, up and down, tighter and tighter, my grip strong around the soft flesh that covers his rock-hard length. Arousal grows in my belly, the power of what I’m doing to this big, cocky fireman fueling my confidence. Precum leaks from his tip, a most erotic sight, and we groan.
“My turn.” He pulls my hands from his erection, and pins them at my sides. Then his mouth is moving, down my breasts, teasing a nipple, biting at my hip, settling between my legs. His hands release my wrists to lift my legs and spread them wide. Exposing me. Open. Vulnerable. Wanton. “This pretty pussy is wet for me.” He stares at it with so much lust, as if he might actually die without a taste.
My breath hitches. Fuck me. I’m drenched.
He inhales, his mouth still inches away as he lifts the fabric of my thong over my mound and to the side. “This where you wanted me?” His fingers stroke around my center, but avoid my throbbing clit.
I need him to touch me. When he finally does, it won’t take much to set me off—our verbal sparring effective foreplay to this very moment. I groan, move my hips, and strain for the friction I desperately need.
“Come on. Say it.” He gives my pussy a slap that delivers more surprise than pain. “Tell me what you want.”
So Cam likes dirty talk? My clit throbs. Apparently so do I. “Fuck me with your mouth. Your fingers. Your cock. I want it all.”
“Fuck, yeah.” It’s all the encouragement he needs and his eyes darken with desire. His fingers slide between my wetness, his mouth moving over my clit. He licks. Kisses and sucks. His fingers slide inside to help. With swift and sure ministrations, he brings me closer. Makes me hotter. Draws curses along with his name from my lips.
“Fuck, I need inside.” He releases me and grabs the condom, opening the wrapper and sliding on the latex. “I can’t decide if I want to bend you over or take you like this.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because either way, I won’t be able to last. Fuck, you’re so damn sexy. What do you want?”
I like that he asks. That I get to be in charge, to take back control, especially after he brought me to the edge of my orgasm and didn’t finish me off. “I want to ride you.”
“Fuck. Yeah.” He slides back on the sheets as I roll to my knees and climb over him. I straddle his waist, line us up, and wait until he meets my gaze before spreading my knees and sinking down on his hard length.
We both gasp. In this position he fills me to the brink of pain. I’m so full. Thanks to all our foreplay, I’m wet enough for this to work. I inhale a breath, then move, swiveling my hips as I rock back and forth, up and down. Cam’s hands find their way to my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh as he helps quicken my pace. I rise and sink down, my clit making glorious contact with his pelvis.
