"How good?" I asked, head tilting, smile teasing.
His hand left my cheek, going down the side of my neck and sliding down my arm until he found my hand, grabbing it, pulling it up, and placing my palm against the crotch of his jeans over his hard cock. I heard a low, needy sound escape me as he curled my hand around him. "That good," he said, his voice getting deeper as I grasped him and did as much of a stroke as his thick jeans would allow.
I looked up into his light eyes, mine a challenge. "You know what I find with you?"
"No, what?" he asked, his hand digging into mine as I did another stroke.
"You're all talk."
"Is that a challenge, babygirl? Because, let me tell you, you open up for me, I can make you scream louder than any man or battery-powered device ever has before."
My free hand went up, snagging the back of his neck and pulling him down toward me, kissing up the side of his neck. "Maybe I'm quiet as a mouse when I come."
"Not for me," he promised, his hand moving off mine, tagging me at the waist as he simultaneously dropped down onto the couch beside me and hauled me up and over until I was straddling him. I adjusted my legs and sank my hips down, feeling his hardness press against my heat and throwing my head back on a silent moan. His hands sank into both my hips, using them to stroke me over his length and the silent moan became a not-so-silent one. "Barely touching you," he said as I leaned forward and rested my forehead to his.
"Yeah, what's up with that?" I asked and was rewarded with a small chuckle as his hands shifted around and down until he was cupping my ass, his fingers squeezing in hard.
"Did I tell you yet what a fucking phenomenal ass this is? Been thinking of it since that first night in those jeans. And in that purple dress... fuck me."
"Yes please," I invited, getting another chuckle before I pressed my lips to his and the sound disappeared on an erotic little growl.
A current passed through my entire system at the contact, making every inch of my skin feel electric and buzzing. I sank lower against him, my chest pressing hard into his. One of his hands snaked up my spine and curled into the hair at the nape of my neck. The other released my ass but only so he could pull back and smack it hard enough to make my body jump unexpectedly. My teeth sank into his lower lip in retribution, earning me another smack that had my thighs and lady bits contracting hard. His hand curled harder into my hair and tugged backward, making me release his lips and pulling me far enough back so he could look at my face.
When he could see me, he smacked again, harder. My body jumped, my mouth parted, and a small whimper escaped me as I stroked over him again, trying to get relief from the pressure low in my belly, begging for fulfillment. "Oh, babygirl, we're gonna have fun," he said with a sexy half-smirk. He released my hair. "Arms up," he instructed and up they went. The material of my sweater felt scratchy and uncomfortable on my heated and overly-sensitive skin. His hands went to the hem and snagged the material, pulling it up slowly, exposing me one inch at a time. I said a silent 'thank-you' to early morning hungover-me for choosing the pretty tan and black lace balconette bra and matching panties and not the plain white 'fuck this shit' bra and panties I almost put on. The material went over my head and Paine flung it across the room. "You wear this shit on the daily?" he asked, hands moving to my ribcage just under my bra line.
"Mostly," I said, grabbing his wrists and moving his hands up to cover my breasts. His hands squeezed hard before his thumbs stroked over my hardened nipples. My palms moved to brace on his thighs behind me as my hips ground against him.
"Fuck," he said, shaking his head as he watched me, my pace unhurried though the need was like a coil wound too tight inside. His hands followed the band of my bra to my back and made short work of the clasps. I pressed back straight so he could slide the straps down my arms. As soon as the material was gone, his hands moved up and covered my bare breasts, the roughness of his palms moving over my sensitive nipples and wrenching a groan from me.
They were good breasts, not huge, but not tiny either, but his big hands completely covered them, squeezing them tightly before he took the hardened buds and rolled them between his fingers, almost to the point of pain. His hands went to my sides, squeezing in, and pulling my body forward. My hands braced on the back of the couch behind his shoulders as his head ducked, tilted, and his mouth closed over my nipple, sucking hard and deep as his other hand worked my other breast, overwhelming my already too-stimulated system.