Page 100 of Braving the Storm
My heart is hammering with excitement and nerves and a little trepidation as I reenter the bathroom. In the time I’ve been gone, Storm has ditched his shirt and is slowly working on loosening his belt.
I nearly stumble, my knees pretty much giving out, as my eyes race all over his naked chest, his tattoos, his v leading below the waistband of his jeans.
“Paint those lips for me.” The look he hits me with is pure sex. Occasionally, in brief moments like this one right here, I’m reminded just how experienced this man is compared to me. Before now, it might have faltered my belief that this cowboy actually wants me.
Tonight, I have no such lingering question marks hanging over my head.
Feeling the caress of his cuff, and his gaze, I walk over to the mirror and set my phone on the surface. Within a second, his muscled shoulders fill the reflection, looming prominently at my back.
I’m preening on the inside as my fingers tug the glossy black casing apart and twist the lipstick to reveal the untouched, perfectly crisp slant of the tip.
My eyes flick up to snag on his own in the mirror, and the pulse that was already hammering in my neck doubles down in intensity. He’s watching everything like a starving man presented with a feast after weeks lost in the desert.
In the mirrored surface, my breasts are full and heavy, with tightly furled nipples; his leather cuff is the only item adorning my body, and fuck, if it doesn’t look so sinfully good.
Bracing one hand on the marble, I lean toward the mirror, giving every bit of me that I know he wants to see on display, for him alone.
As I start to drag the brilliant rouge over my bottom lip, the arch of my spine sticks my ass out, and allows my tits to spill forward. They hang, rounded and aching and squeezed together in an act that I hope screams from the rooftops how desperately I want him to suck and lick and pinch the sensitive peaks until I can’t see straight.
When I move to glide the red over my top lip, highlighting that cupid’s bow, I hear it. The clank of metal signals the moment my cowboy is done with watching and waiting.
“On your knees.” He lets his eyes drop to the floor, where there’s a cloud-like plush mat cushioning my toes. Indicating exactly where he wants me.
I turn, then sink down in front of him and wait, eager and nervous, all in the same measure.
Storm grabs my phone and the lipstick I left on the counter, and just as I’m unsure why he needs the second item, he turns thecamera on my bared breasts. Each nipple tightens immediately as my breath hitches.
With one hand he begins filming, while with the other, he marks across the center of my chest in bold, crimson strokes.
Mine.
A dark noise of satisfaction fills the echoing space, and he tosses the capped tube in the wash basin at my back.
“Look at you.” Strong fingers pinch my jaw as he examines my mouth. “Stick out your tongue.”
As I hastily let my jaw drop wide, and present my tongue for him, I can see he’s being careful with the camera. It's trained down my body, more than up; whether or not my face is in the frame, I’m unable to tell, but it seems as if he’s purposely trying to avoid it. Not that I care, but it’s something that makes me fall even harder, tumbling wildly into deeper depths because he cares enough to at least ensure if someone were to see this, it’s not obvious that it’s me on video.
“You take my dick so well, did you know that?” he murmurs, and the inherent praise in those few words all but guarantees I’ll do anything he asks of me.
With his free hand, he pushes his briefs down, letting his cock bob free, long and veined, and tempting me into sluttier waters when I catch sight of his leaking tip.
The fact he’s already this turned on by me, for me, I simply can’t wait to show him what that means.
“Flatten your tongue, hold it there for me.”
Of course, I do just that.
Then he fists himself and glides across my waiting, gaping mouth. Allowing the velvety, musky heat of him to coat my senses and drive me insane because all I want to do is start sucking him, but he lets the weight of his cock rest there as he continues to thicken and lengthen and rub on me as if I’m nothing more than a hole for him to play with. It’s that image that unravels me real quick, I can’t help starting to make desperate little pleading noises.
“Goddamn. Your mouth was made for this. That’s it, wrapthose perfect lips around me so I can make a mess of you.” As he speaks, the camera is positioned to focus on the place where his thick length enters me, and I allow myself to form a ring, closing around him as he lets out a groan. Now, I’ve got permission to blow him properly, and I’m determined to drive him out of his mind with pleasure.
I’m determined to put on a show.
My hands seek out his waistband, and I tug to drag his jeans over the slope of his firm ass, which allows me to peel his briefs lower.
Tilting my eyes up, I slide off his length and note, with a warm, glowing explosion of sparks inside my chest, that there’s a red ring left behind from where my mouth has been.
“Fuck, that looks so hot.” His words echo my thoughts.
