“You like that,” he whispered into her mouth, no less satisfied than she’d been.
She nodded, squashing her nose into his cheek.
“Ease up here, and I’ll make you feel even better.”
He didn’t have to tell her twice. The bed dipped as she braced first one knee and then the other beside his hip. Her hands straddled his torso. She smelled of sunshine and vanilla. Of woman and rising need. He could never get enough of her. He stroked her breasts with his fingers, smiling as the calluses caught on the delicate material of her camisole. Her gaze met his. With taunting slowness, she lowered her head, letting him feel the whisper of her breath, the heat of her body, the promise in her emerald eyes. Her hair fell around him, a silky curtain as she slowly, delicately, traced his smile with the tip of her tongue, sending a frisson of sensation licking through his body. When she raised her head, his smile rested on her full lips, but there was a provocative quality there now. A sultry cast that had his heart pumping and his cock pounding with anticipation.
Keeping her eyes locked with his, she eased her breast toward his mouth. It hovered just out of reach. He couldn’t lift his head to capture her pouting nipple. He waited for her to realize she had to lower herself more. If possible, her smile grew broader as she daintily prodded his lips with the swollen tip. He opened his mouth and accepted the sweet offering against the cushioning softness of his tongue. She tasted all the sweeter for the anticipation. He plumped her breast with his fingers, bringing her harder against his mouth, laving her through the cotton of her camisole, using the damp material to increase the friction of his caress.
Her soft moans were sweet music to his ears. When she threw her head back and groaned, he pulled the cotton underthing away. She was hot against his tongue. The slightest hint of salt tanged her flesh. He swept the crest of her breast, catching more of her essence before drawing her deeply into his mouth. He suckled strongly, discovering what she liked. Her cries of delight and then protest when he pulled back, had him hotter than the Fourth of July.
“Just switching sides,” he explained.
She adjusted her position to make it easier on him.
Her moans were pretty constant by the time she said, “I want you.”
He kissed the hard nipple hovering above his face. “Not yet.”
She pulled back. Her hands at the buttonfly of his long johns made mincemeat of his determination. As each button popped its hole, his cock received a dancing caress.
“Now.” She clearly wasn’t in a mood to be denied.
He slid his hand from her breast to the slit in her pantaloons. The material was wet with her juices. His fingers slid smoothly through her thick cream. He parted her folds, stroking her as he swirled a path to her vagina. As his finger breached the tight portal, she freed his cock. The cool air of the room was both a balm and torment on his heated flesh. The tips of her fingers glided up and down his length in a gentle demand that tore another moan from his throat. He gritted his teeth against the fiery demand that he take charge. Instead, he braced himself to endure. There was a lot to say for letting a woman take charge. He slid a finger into her pussy, groaning when her muscles clenched hard on him. He wanted in her now.
“Straddle me and then lean back against my knees so you won’t hurt your palms.”
She didn’t immediately move into action. She stared so long at his arousal, trapped so gently in her hand that he thought he’d embarrass himself from the enjoyment he got from her pleasure.
“I like you like this,” she informed him.
“You’ll like me a lot better in a minute.”
She chuckled and petted him. Actually petted him while he strained and jerked. She moved away, took off her pantaloons, and then, light as a feather, she straddled his hips. He curled his fingers around her ribs, supporting her. As if she’d been riding him all her life, she fell into position. With exquisite care, she settled on him, taking him in slow, delicate increments until he thought she might tear him apart.
She looked into his eyes. Her expression fierce. “You’re mine.”
He couldn’t believe it, but a laugh found its way through the searing pleasure. “No one here’s arguing.”
She repeated it again, a bit desperately. He wanted to respond, but she suddenly took his cock fully into the clenching grasp of her pussy, and his world narrowed to a tight, hot focus of building desire that allowed nothing but response to the woman who held him so close. She was in control and loving it. He could do nothing but surrender and glory in the wildness she denied having.