Page 51 of Your Rhythm
“God, I want to see you, Kay.”
I want him to see me too. I reach behind me and undo the clasp, drawing out the motion of sliding the straps down my shoulders as I hold the cups in place with one hand. Inch by inch, I let them fall away until I’m exposed to him. My need intensifies as the air hits my goose-bump-covered skin, stiffening my already hard nipples even more.
I lower myself onto him, rocking against his cock through his jeans as I brace a hand on his chest. He closes his eyes and inhales, and then he’s sliding his grip around to my ass, increasing the speed and pressure of my thrusts until we both moan every time I grind into him.
“Get these off,” he mutters, tugging on my pants to slide them down.
I do as he says, straightening up onto my knees again and undoing my zipper before undertaking the inevitable, extremely awkward shuffling-out-of-skin-tight-high-waisted-pants-while-on-a-bed manoeuvre. After what feels like several minutes, I look back at him and expect to see him laughing, but instead he’s staring at my black boy shorts like they’re the fabric that holds the universe together.
“On your back. Now.”
I don’t even have time to do it myself; he’s on top of me in an instant, hands reaching for any part of me they can find. I arch my back as he swirls his tongue over the swell of my chest, and cry out when he takes one of my nipples into his mouth, sucking hard as he pinches the other.
I buck against him and he takes the hint, sliding a hand down to tease my inner thighs before cupping it between my legs. I hiss and push into his touch.
“You’re so wet already.”
“Touch me,” I beg, not even bothering to hide the fact that he’s totally in control now. “Please.”
He rubs me over the black fabric with long, slow strokes that go from soft to hard and back again, until I’m writhing underneath him. When he finally pulls my underwear to the side and does the same to my bare skin, I know I won’t hold out much longer. I have to have him inside me.
“I want to see y-your...your cock,” I stutter, shivering as his fingers start to circle my clit.
“Sure you don’t want me to just keep going?”
“You’re going to make me come,” I tell him, “and I want to come on your cock.”
At that, he swears under his breath and gives me a few final strokes before moving to sit on the edge of the bed and lift his shirt over his head. The muscles of his back and arms ripple, and I feel like I could get off to just the sight of that alone.
I move to kneel behind him and trail my fingers over his shoulders, down his spine, along the sides of his ribs. He leans into me and starts to undo his jeans. I kiss his neck and watch as he shifts them down past his hips, until I can see the outline of his cock straining against a pair of navy boxers.
I reach around him, brushing the hot skin of his stomach and moving lower until I feel him twitching under my hand. I slip beneath the waistband of his boxers and take the length of him into my hand. He curses again, letting his head fall back onto my shoulder, eyes closed. I pump his cock until his breathing gets more and more ragged against my neck.
“Please tell me you have a condom,” he groans, thighs flexing as I pick up speed.
“Sure you don’t want me to just keep going?” I mock.
“You’re the one who wants to come on my cock.”
I jerk him faster. “Don’t act like you don’t want that too.”
He lets me keep going for a moment and then wraps a hand around mine to make me stop. “Condom. Now. Where is it?”
“I’ll get it.”
I hop off the bed and crouch down beside my bag. When I come back to the bed Matt’s still sitting on the edge, his boxers and jeans on the floor, one fist wrapped around his cock as he watches me. I swallow hard at the sight.
“Here.” I hand him the foil package and move to lie down on the bed.
“Wait.” He catches my arm. “I want you like this.”
He rips the package open and rolls the condom on, then glances between me and his lap. I suck in a breath and let my boy shorts fall to the ground before straddling him. His hard tip teases my entrance, and I reach between us to wrap one hand around the base of him, guiding him up and down my slit until we’re both covered in my wetness and desperate for him to thrust inside.
I take hold of both his shoulders. He grabs onto my waist.
Inch by torturous inch, he fills me.
I keep my eyes fixed on the muscles of his chest, but he lifts my chin up and I know he wants me to look at him. When I finally do, I find him staring at me like every light in the world has gone out and I’m the moon. I couldn’t turn away if I tried. The devotion in his face is mesmerising.
