Button, zip.
His hands slid down my back, sinking into my bare ass, squeezing possessively. Pressing my forehead into his chest, I smiled, loving the way his every touch seemed to want to claim ownership of me, not caring if that made me seem needy. Maybe I was. I didn't care. Anyone could view it how they wanted, but in my opinion, there was nothing wrong with being possessed by a man such as Kingston Rivers.
I grabbed the waistbands of his jeans and boxer briefs, working them down over his hips until they got stuck at his knees.
My hand grew bold, sliding back up his thigh, slipping inward, hand closing over his cock with a small whimper at the idea of having him inside me, filling me.
A rumble moved through Kingston as my hand stroked him, as my thumb slid across the sensitive head, feeling a bead of wetness there.
Before I could explore him anymore, he was grabbing my hips, shoving me back onto the mattress, my body bouncing gently as Kingston discarded his pants fully, coming back over me, his whole body pressing against me.
My legs opened invitingly, feeling his body slide between, his cock pressing against my pelvis, full of promise.
His lips pressed to mine. Harder. Hungrier. Devouring. Burning into mine. My lips felt immediately swollen from the pressure, more sensitive, hinting at an ache I would feel for hours later.
My fingers raked down his back, sinking into his ass, pulling, trying to guide his hips to shift, to allow his cock to slide between my folds, press against the throbbing need of my clit.
His lips ripped from mine, moving down between my breasts, down my belly, with none of the slow exploration of before, his moves were tightly controlled, just barely holding onto his restraint.
I didn't care much about restraint, though, as his hands gripped my thighs, cocking them upward to pin them against the bed as his head leveled with my pelvic bone, then lower.
His tongue traced slowly up my slit, the gentle touch sending a shiver through my body.
Then it found my clit, tracing just outside it, teasing at fire while he carefully stoked the flames.
My hips rose to meet him as my hands slid up his back to slip into his hair, holding him to me as though afraid he might have tried to pull away at the last possible moment.
I should have known better.
If there was one thing people would tell you about Kingston, aside from being steadfast, honest, kind-hearted, and good, well, it was that he was generous, giving.
So he gave.
And gave.
Through yet another orgasm that started slow and deep at the base of my spine, pulsing slow and hard outward until it felt like it overtook me completely, making my thighs shake, my fingers pull at soft strands of hair, my breath to catch, strangle, until the first crest crashed fully. And then the sound that came from me was the only one that mattered.
His name.
He eased me back down, trailing soft kisses over my inner thighs, across my hipbones, up my belly, breasts, neck.
Teeth gently nipped my earlobe, his warm breath teasing over it as he spoke.
"Hearing you say my name when you come apart is another thing fantasy could never have done any justice to," he told me before sealing his lips to mine, finally shifting his hips, sliding up my slick cleft, a thick, heavy pressure, rubbing perfectly, not too soft, not too hard, guiding my body down then back up.
My sex clenched hard as he closed his eyes for a long moment, enjoying the sensation, trying to get control, I wasn't sure which. But either one made my belly feel liquid, made my body ache to have him lose control, give it over to his need, get lost completely in me.
Maybe hear my name as he fell apart.
"King..." My voice was a whimper, a plead, an encouragement.
I needed it.
And he needed to know how much I needed it.
Him.
How much I needed him.
And everything he could give me.
One arm took his weight, body shifting, sliding over mine slightly as he reached into the nightstand, pressing up to his knees to protect us, his gaze unwavering on mine. Hungry, yes, but something more. Something deeper. Something that made my belly flutter, made my chest tighten.
But before I could try to figure out what it was amongst the chaos of sensations in my body, thoughts in my mind, his body was covering mine once again, his lips taking mine as he settled between my thighs.
He didn't surge.
Didn't give into the need I felt against my sex.
No.
He lavished.
Lingered.
Kissed me slower, deeper. Until there was nothing else in the world but his lips on mine. Until I forgot that it was often such a means to an end, the prelude to the main attraction.