We collapse across it, and he lands above me, braced with one hand on the bed, the other still tracing my jawline, down my neck, around to the back of the gown to undo the zipper he just did.
I dig my hands into his back, pull him down against me, hard and hungry. At the same time I lift my legs to either side of his waist, arch up until I can feel the outline of his cock against my soft stomach. He feels huge against me, and I gasp a little as my gown hikes up around my waist.
“God, you are exquisite,” he murmurs against my jawline, my neck. His lips move lower, even as his fingertips trail after the hem of my gown, hiking it farther up, until my legs are exposed, only my panties separating me from his suit pants. He arches against me, shifting lower, and I gasp as I feel the hard dig of his cock right over me.
He pauses and arches a brow at me, still poised above me. “Already wet for me, Dee?” He reaches a finger down and runs it over the outer edge of my panties, making me shiver with want. I’m already soaked through, and I know he can feel it.
In response, I slide a hand down his hips to trace the outline of his cock through his pants, pressing hard with my fingertips. “As wet for you as you are hard for me, Mr. Quint.”
He flashes me a broad grin. “Aren’t you the naughty girl after all, Ms. Smith?” He leans back, and I gasp at the sudden loss of his heat, and the pressure of his fingers against my aching pussy, after so many days of thinking about him, fantasizing about this moment.
He leans back on the edge of the bed and watches me with those dark, hooded, unreadable eyes. “Take off your gown.”
I stand up and slip off the shoulders, one at a time. I stand for a moment, holding it up, teasing. And then I let it drop to my ankles, and step out of it with a kick, smirking as I step toward him. “Do you like giving commands, Mr. Quint?”
“Only if you like to follow them, Ms. Smith.” He tilts his head to one side, waiting.
In response, I spread my hands at my sides and bow my head. “Tell me what you want.”
He steps closer. Traces a hand over my hair, and then gently tilts my head back until I’m looking up at him once more. “You, beautiful.” His eyes drink me in, taking their time. I’m wearing a lace slip of a bra, the only thing that fit under this gown, and my panties. That’s it. Yet somehow, under his gaze, I don’t feel exposed in a bad way.
I feel sexy. Brazen as hell. Maybe it’s because of the way he takes me in, like he’s loving every second of it, and he can’t get enough.
“I want you every which way,” he murmurs, and his lips brush my cheek, my neck, my collarbone. Dip down until he’s kissing between my breasts, and his hands reach up to tweak my nipples, toy with them through my bra, and I get so hard so fast that I have to gasp. “But first, I want to enjoy the view.” He steps back and smiles. “Lie down on the bed.”
I do as I’m told.
“Spread your legs,” he says, and I spread them wide. He hooks one thumb under my panties and tugs them down, in one swift motion. I gasp as the cool air of the hotel room brushes my bare pussy. My already soaking wet pussy. Then he climbs between my spread legs and runs his hands up my sides to my bra.
“Take it off,” he says.
I lean forward to undo the clasp. Let it fall down my arms. He tosses it aside, and then he’s over me again, his hands tracing the edges of my breasts. He leans down to kiss my chest, lick and suck underneath each breast, and then, one at a time, he swirls his tongue around my nipples, alternately thrashing them with his soft wet tongue and gently rolling them between his teeth, never biting hard enough to hurt, just enough to make me harder than a damn diamond.
I reach up to grab the clasp of his belt, unable to wait much longer. I whip that off, then tug at his shirt. I start undoing the buttons, but get frustrated halfway up, because he keeps nipping and sucking at my nipples, then dips lower, out of reach. He chuckles slightly against my belly, and his tongue flicks into my navel for a second, sending a shockwave of sensation all the way to my toes.
“Just tear it off, if you’re so anxious,” he murmurs against my stomach.
So I grab the shirt in both hands and rip. Buttons fly every which way. He laughs again, flashing me an appraising look.
“I didn’t think you actually would,” he’s saying, but I don’t give him time to pause and think about it. I grab his tie and yank him back down into a kiss, my legs wrapped around his waist now as I reach down with my other hand to grab for the waist of his pants.
He bites my lower lip as we part from the kiss, both of us breathless, and then he yanks on his own tie, undoes it, and tosses that aside after his shirt.
“God, Jasper.” For a moment I pause, distracted by his now bare torso. Because God damn he is ripped. I knew he was cut from his build through the T-shirt, but now I can see every inch of his muscles, the perfect plane of his abs and the V-cut over his groin.
He smirks. “Like what you see?”
“Fuck yes,” I whisper. I run my fingertips over it all, leaning up to kiss his pecs, his abs, and flick my tongue across his nipples.
He shudders above me, and I take that as encouragement and undo his pants button. “Dee…” he starts, but I don’t listen. I yank the zipper down, and tug them over his hips. He lets them fall, and I push his boxers down after, eager.
His cock springs free, just inches from my face where I’ve arched up underneath him now, and it’s all I can do to contain a pulse of white hot desire.
Desire… and concern.
Because he’s huge. Thick and long, with a vein that stands out along one side, so irresistible that I can’t help myself—I lean in to trace my tongue along it, and savor the way he gasps and digs his hands into my hair, tightening.
“Fuck, Dee,” he groans through gritted teeth.
I run my tongue along him, from his base to his tip, exploring him as I marvel at his length, his thickness. I don’t even know if I’ll be able to fit him completely in my mouth, let alone my pussy. And yet, I’ve never been this wet for a guy, either. I’ve never felt like my clit was a lead weight between my legs, heavy and aching with desire.
Much as I’m enjoying myself, it’s almost a relief when he gently pulls me back. “Not yet,” he tells me, gaze on fire as he stares down at me. “I want to fuck you first.”
My heart skips a beat at that.
He reaches for his pants, rifles in a pocket for a condom, and I hold out a hand for it, wordlessly. He places it in my palm, and I roll it down over his cock, savoring the velvety grip of him, the steel underneath.
“Not going to lie,” he says, as he leans down along me, forcing me back down against the bed, his hands tracing my hips, my thighs. Down to part my legs and run one hand along my slit, a single fingertip delving between my folds to massage the wet warmth there, rocking back and forth, coating his finger in my juices. “I’ve been imagining this for a very long time, Dee.” His gaze meets mine, white hot with naked lust. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you.”
I swallow hard around the fire that’s flaring through my body. Distracting me. Making me catch flame, as he teases me again and again with that lone finger of his.
“I’ve fantasized about this. About making you scream my name.”
I gaze up at him, dare a faint smile. “I’ve fantasized about screaming your name,” I reply, and if anything, that only seems to make his stare hotter.
He adds a second finger, presses them against my entrance. Not quite entering me, not yet. “Why can’t I get you out of my head, Dee?” he whispers, just before he slides those fingers inside me, an inch at a time, teasing into me.
My lips part in a silent gasp, eyes locked on his. I don’t know what to say to that, don’t know how to respond except to arch my hips up against him, grant him better access as he pushes his fingers deeper, deeper. When they reach their limit, he curl
s his fingertips inside me and draws them out again, dragging along my inner front wall, and I groan with delight, as the pads of his thick fingers graze over my G-spot.
“You are fucking sexy as hell,” he murmurs, as he strokes his fingers out, and then gently glides them back in again. Back and forth. Working me up. Stoking the flames inside me. “And this tight, gorgeous little pussy of yours? Mmm.” He grins and pauses to glance down. To watch as his fingers spread my lips and press into me. Then, without warning, he adds a third, and I gasp and buck beneath him. He starts to stroke his hand faster, harder. “I can’t wait to spread those tight little lips with my fat cock. I can’t wait to be inside you, fucking you…”
I start to rock my hips in time to his finger thrusts and his words, the pressure mounting. I reach down with one hand, unable to resist, and grab his cock, stroking him at the same time he strokes me. “I want… you to… fuck me,” I manage, as much as I’m able to keep my head together in the midst of this firestorm.
“Ask me nicely.” He leans down to kiss my lips, hard and hot, as he drives his fingers into me harder, faster.
I buck in time with him, and bite his lip as we break from the kiss, making us both gasp with want. “Fuck me, Jasper. Please, fuck me.”
He grins and spreads my legs wide, and kneels between them. He draws his fingers out of my pussy, and it leaves me feeling exposed, empty, wanting.
Luckily not for long.
“Anything you want,” he tells me. Then he positions the tip of his cock at my entrance—he is huge, fuck—and slowly starts to press into me, one inch at a time.
I gasp faintly before he’s even halfway into me. “God, Jasper…”
“Relax, Dee.” His eyes find mine, hold on. “Trust me.”
I loop my legs around his waist and try to do just that. Trust him. I relax, and he inches deeper into me, moving slowly, giving me time to adjust to his girth with each inch he presses into me. Finally, he’s completely inside me, filling me, stuffing me deeper than I’ve ever been filled before.