In my defense, the man towering over me is sexy as fuck.
Languorous fingers continue exploring my wetness, teasing my clit, causing my thighs to tremble and my fingernails to bite into his forearms to prevent my legs from giving out.
A throaty, sex-filled sound I don’t recognize leaves my lips.
His masterful fingers take me higher and higher.
Heat and pleasure roll in waves through my body.
I’ve never been at the edge of a cliff, ready to dive headfirst like this before.
I reach out for his cock because it’s only polite to return the favor, but he stops me.
“No, this is about you. There’s plenty of time for you to take care of my cock.”
Copy that.
“Oh—okay,” I stammer.
His fingers keep moving on me, rubbing circles around my clit until I’m almost seeing stars before he sinks them deep inside me, making me moan softly as my eyes slam shut.
“Eyes on me,” he orders.
The excruciating ache between my legs is unbearable, but I find it in me to obey.
“Better,” he says, his fingers still toying with my pussy.
“God,” I pant breathless. “You’re going to make me come right here in front of all these people?!”
His aqua eyes blink and his lips twitch in a wicked smile. “I am.”
Alarm bells should ring in my head, because good girls like me don’t do things like this. But right now, I’m far too consumed by the pleasure his fingers are dragging out of me.
He alternates between teasing my clit and filling my pulsing pussy.
The orgasm threatens closer and closer.
I’m powerless to stop the groan that escapes my throat.
How did he manage to bring me right to the brink so quickly?
This man, this total stranger, is in control of my body, playing me like a maestro, strumming the strings of his instrument.
As if he knows I’m close, he picks up the pace.
“I’m nearly there,” I pant.
“Don’t hold back.”
His response startles me because I didn’t realize I’d spoken the words aloud.
My hips tremble uncontrollably as he skates over my clit again, and again, and again.
My need to stay decent is swept away in a tidal wave of desire. I should feel ashamed at what I’m allowing this stranger to do to me, but I don’t. The wrongness—no, the boldness—feels so incredibly good on me, a foreign, new sensation.
Jesus.
My skin tingles.