ny bit of elastic on the side of the thong. I made a show of slowly pulling the panties down my legs, turning around once again to use the couch as support.
When I turned around again, passion was making his nostrils flare, and his eyes were mere slits.
“Sit,” he demanded in a deep voice that further enhanced my arousal.
I obliged, taking a seat before opening my legs a little more than was appropriate for a lady and leaned back on the couch, using my elbows to prop myself up. He took two steps towards me before dropping to his knees, putting his hands on my hips and yanking me forward.
“I have to taste you,” he murmured, before putting his head between my legs and intimately kissing me. His gentle licks and kisses were lovely, but I needed more. That insatiable woman clamoring for her release demanded more.
My hands went to his head, my fingers running through his hair encouraging him to dive deeper. When he obliged, my nails scored his back as the pleasure became too much. My orgasm was violent, my body bucking and arching as pleasure ripped across every nerve ending. He suckled and lapped, drawing out the climax.
It was only the beginning. I wasn’t satisfied. I pulled up on his arms, sitting up and furiously working the button on his jeans. He stood, yanking me up with him, slapping my hands out of his way as he expertly unsnapped and unzipped before stepping out of the jeans. I was already on my knees, pulling his briefs down and taking him in my mouth. I was in a frenzy, sucking and pulling at his engorged penis.
“No,” I heard him say from some faraway place. I was lost in the act of bringing him to a climax.
He pulled me up, pushed me in front of him. We rounded the couch where he stopped me with his hands on my waist before putting his palm in the center of my back and pushing me down while still holding my waist with the other. My hands came to rest on the back of the couch. I bent over, waiting for him to enter me. I could feel my own juices dripping down the inside of my leg.
“Now, Ian. Take me, now,” I told him, bending further and spreading my legs a little wider.
One hand went to my pussy, his finger separating the folds, before gently rubbing over the already swollen nub. I felt his knuckles on my butt a moment before I felt his dick rubbing where his finger had been. I reached back, pushed his hand away and took his cock in my hand. I gently squeezed, pulling a low groan from him.
I used my hand to direct his dick where I wanted it, rubbing it along the folds, teasingly putting it in before pulling it out. I loved the control despite being in such a vulnerable and exposed position. I continued to rub myself with his cock firm in my fist. I used him to bring myself to the brink but stopped before falling into that void of sweet ecstasy.
“I want you to cum,” he said, pushing me with his hips.
“Not yet.” I rubbed my clit with the head of his cock, pushing back into him, increasing the pressure.
I moaned, unable to fight my need another second. It was a slow hint at a coming climax. It started slow, deep in my toes, making me rise up on my tiptoes, my calves tightened as the feeling spiraled up through my legs, focusing on where I was slowly pushing his dick in.
He grabbed my wrist, threw it out of the way, and pushed into me. I groaned, a long drawn out sound of pure, unadulterated pleasure as he pushed in deeper before pulling out and pushing in harder and faster. It felt as if I was climbing the highest mountain, and every push was taking me higher. I couldn’t seem to reach the top. Every inch of him was scraping over what felt like exposed nerves, creating this searing sensation of intense pressure and pleasure.
Every push from him took me higher, but I couldn’t quite get what I was so desperate to have. My head thrashed back and forth as I begged my body to give me what I craved. It was right there, but I couldn’t have it. It was making me delirious with need. I groaned. It was torture of the best kind.
“Cum for me, Tessa,” his deep voice washed over me.
And like that, I did. I was falling off that mountain for what felt like long drawn out minutes. He was over me, his arms wrapped around me as we fell together. My legs were too weak to stand. I could feel myself sliding downwards.
He scooped me up, carried my naked body to the couch and plopped down. We were right back in the same position we had been not all that long ago. My body felt limp. We were both breathing hard, and I could feel sticky sweat between our bodies.
“I love you,” I breathed.
“I love you,” he repeated.
We sat there, catching our breath, he was slowly caressing my body. It was beautiful. The sex had somehow gotten better. I knew it was because I felt complete with him. He was the man I had been waiting for, and my body recognized it.
“Let’s shower and then get a plan together, and we prepare to fight!”
He chuckled. “I’m ready.”
I could feel the first stirrings of another arousal. This was going to be a long shower, but I didn’t mind. We had all night and all day to come up with a plan that would bring Dean Scribbs to her knees.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Ian
I was ready. It felt good to have a purpose, to have something worth fighting for. Saturday afternoon and evening had been pretty unhelpful when it came to solving Tessa’s problem, but I didn’t think she minded. Once we had professed our love for one another, I couldn’t keep my hands off her or my dick out of her. I swear to God if I could have tied her up and kept her in bed for the next week, I would have. I felt like an eighteen-year-old kid. I had made up for four years of celibacy in a single day. I have no idea where I found the strength or stamina, but it was there.
Now my body was spent, and when we woke up Sunday morning, I felt as if I had finally been somewhat satiated. We both did. Thinking back to our lovemaking ignited that familiar flame, but I wasn’t desperate to have her now. I could wait—until tonight.