I remembered what he felt like deep inside me, but even so, seeing his cock, feeling it against me, still had a gasp of shock leaving my lips.
And when he pulled back ever so slightly, I didn’t stop myself from glancing down at his impressive length. His dick was long and thick, with a bulbous head slightly glossy with pre-cum. And he was like that because of me. It was all for me.
My pussy actually clenched at the thought of him pushing that large shaft into me, stretching my unused, aching muscles, making me scream out his name in not only pleasure but pain as well. And God, I wanted that pain, because I knew it would set me over the edge and bring me pleasure.
A thick lump formed in my throat, and I swallowed, trying to push it down. I wouldn’t let my nerves control me.
He pressed his body to mine once more, but he didn’t move to touch me, didn’t do anything but close his eyes and inhale deeply, as if he were taking in my scent.
“God, you smell so good.” He opened his eyes and stared into mine. “I’ve been dreaming about this scent, jerking off to it for the last three months, Adele.” He ran his fingers up and down the sides of my body, having goose bumps forming on my limbs.
I felt his body heat seep into me, felt the way his warm breath came out of him and bathed my temples, arousing me even more.
“God, I thought about you every single minute of every single day.” He kept stroking the sides of my body. He said the last part softly, his gaze on my mouth, his chest rising and falling harder now. I could see his pleasure rising to the surface, becoming tangible.
He slid his hand up my back and curled his fingers around my nape, pulling me closer, my chest pressing to his chest, my taut nipples hardening even more. Oliver didn’t have to lean in to kiss me, because I rose up on my toes and pressed my lips to his before he could react or move. I held onto his strong, broad shoulders, curled my nails gently into his firm and warm flesh. Our kiss started off softly, slowly, but then it became frantic, hard, and almost violent in its eroticism.
Oliver groaned and had his hands on my waist now, his nails digging into my flesh so hard I knew there would be bruises come morning.
“Touch me,” I moaned, knowing he understood what I wanted, what I needed.
He had his hands on my breasts, clenching and unclenching the mounds, the callouses on his palms and fingers magical. I groaned, whispered that I ached for him, that I needed him between my thighs. His hands on my breasts were almost painful as he squeezed and released my flesh, and when he slid those hands down my sides, skated his fingers along my hips, and moved one of his palms to cup my ass, I closed my eyes and just enjoyed the feeling of him taking control.
He held my ass for a moment and then moved one of his hands between my thighs, slowly… enticingly. He did this from behind, sliding his fingers along the curve of my bottom before settling between my legs and cupping my pussy. A gasp left me when he speared his fingers through my soaked folds gently, torturing both of us. I heard the low, deep sounds leaving him. He was barely hanging on, just like me.
He licked and nipped at my throat as he parted my pussy lips and stroked me gently, as if he were trying to be as slow as possible, as if he wanted to prolong this.
“Fuck, you’re so wet for me, Adele. You’re so ready for my cock.”
I nodded, loving that he spoke so filthy to me, that he voiced his desires. Oliver continued to move his fingers up and down my cleft, teasing the opening of my pussy with a finger, but not thrusting the digit into me just yet. And God, did I want that. He kept pushing his dick against my stomach, back and forth, harder with every passing second, his pre-cum smearing along my flesh, making me frenzied.
He teased me for several more seconds, rubbing my clit every time he stroked his fingers up my slit, teasing my hole on every downstroke, and leaving me so thoroughly on edge I was ready to beg him to fuck me. But all too soon, he removed his hand, pulled back slightly, brought his fingers up to his mouth, and right in front of me so I could watch, he dragged those glossy digits along his lips before sucking them in and cleaning my arousal off them.
He leaned in and started kissing me, and I made a low sound of pleasure. This was what I wanted so damn badly. He made me taste myself on him, almost demanding I surrender as he gripped my braids behind my head and tugged gently, tilting my head back farther. I stroked his tongue with mine, moaned at the musky flavor of my wetness, of my arousal on his lips, and of the spicy taste that seemed to be all Oliver.
He started moving his mouth and tongue down my neck, along my collarbones, and stopped when he was right above my breasts. I was panting by this point, unable to control even the simplest act of drawing air into my lungs. The small, hard, and hot pants of his breath bathed my flesh, caused my nipples to harden even farther, and had me clenching my thighs together almost painfully, trying to stem off the arousal long enough for us to make it to the bed.
“Oliver,” I mewled. “I need you.”
He groaned deeply right before he latched onto one of my breasts, sucking at the peak and mound, causing my clit to throb in time with my pulse.
Over and over, he tormented me until the pain and pleasure morphed into one and I wasn’t just thinking of begging him; I actually was. And I had no shame.
“Please, Oliver. Please.”
And with one last drag across the stiff peak of my left breast, Oliver moved his mouth back up until he was kissing me once more. He gripped the cheeks of my ass, lifting me easily off the ground. I wrapped my legs around his waist, my pussy coming in contact with his hard, big length. His cock slipped between my pussy lips, sliding between my soaked folds and driving me insane with lust.
Never breaking the kiss, Oliver turned with me in his arms, walked toward the bed, and then we were lying on it, me on my back, Oliver above me. He leaned back, and I watched as he grabbed his dick, stroking himself up and down, from root to tip, all the while watching me with unrestrained passion.
“I need to be inside you,” he said in the most erotic way I’d ever heard.
“I need that too,” I whispered.
This almost animalistic sound left him, but he said nothing, just moved closer between my thighs, my pussy, and placed the tip at my entrance. God, he was big and hot, thick and soaked with pre-cum.
“Are you ready for me again, Adele?”
I nodded. That’s all I could do, all I could say, even if no words left me.