As I lowered myself onto my knees, he stood. Was he wanting me to go down on him? I liked when he told me what to do, and he seemed to as well. So, I knelt on my kitchen floor and awaited further instructions. To say I was eager was a gross understatement.
He ran the faucet and scrubbed his hands clean quickly with dish soap, and shook the water off. He grabbed a paper towel and dried them, and . . . reached for my plastic bag of powdered sugar?
“What are you doing?”
He ignored my question, and instead scooped two heaping spoonfuls into the sifter. If that wasn’t confusing enough, he just left it sitting on the counter, like it was forgotten, as he knelt on the floor in front of me.
Kyle’s hands were cool and damp from where he’d washed them, but his mouth against my neck was hot. He pressed the length of his body against mine, and although it felt great, I wanted what was poking against my hip. Hard, and thick, and very ready for me.
How long would he draw this out? From the very second I’d opened my apartment door to him this evening, I’d been in a heightened state of arousal. Maybe longer. Perhaps it had started when he’d presented me with the agreement, and never really gone away.
I gasped when he curled both hands under my ass and lifted me into his arms. My knees parted around his hips. Anticipatory fire swept through me. Just inches away from sliding down on his cock, any second now—
Nope. One of his hands moved up, holding tightly around my back to support me as he lowered me down. The flooring was icy cold against my back, and I held both my breath and my tongue. Need clawed at me, and if he wasn’t careful, impatience was going to have me clawing at him.
He had me settled on my back, him over me like we were going to start fucking missionary style, but he rose onto his knees, peered down at me, and wiped a hand over his mouth. Like he was looking at a mouthwatering meal. Okay, I couldn’t deny that was kind of hot. His expression was pure lust.
I reached for him. “I want you inside me.”
He grasped both of my wrists in one firm hold. “This isn’t about giving you what you want.” He leaned over me, lifting my arms up. “It’s about giving you what you need.” He pressed my wrists over my head and pinned them to the floor. “These stay here.”
I sighed in both frustration and excitement. “Okay, I need your cock inside me.”
As his hand slid away from my wrists, I felt his hold whether it was physical or not. He smiled confidently. “Do as I tell you, and you’ll get it.”
His palms coursed down my extended arms and brushed over my breasts. Then they were gone as he reached up onto the counter.
“Sorry about the mess,” he said.
“The mess?”
The metal sifter was in his hand, and as he shook it gently, it sent clouds of powdered sugar raining down on me. Over my breasts, my stomach, and between my thighs. The swirling fog of sugar had barely settled when he set aside the sifter and admired his work.
God, I couldn’t think over how hot he made me. Kyle slid his hands up the sides of my rib cage, his thumbs collecting powder as they brushed up over my breasts. I arched up into his touch, sending some of the excess powder to the floor.
My bottom lip quivered as he locked his thumbs and forefingers around each nipple and began to tug. The ache was sharp and wonderful. I wanted more. No, wait, I needed more. Before I could even ask, he knew. He pulled harder, and I drew in a deep breath through my nose. His pinch hurt, but in a good way.
And then he released me, causing a small puff of dust as the sugar was flung free of my skin. My hands itched to touch him. My arms ached to be around him. But I wasn’t going to disobey his command. I was so fucking curious how much more he’d do, and a little bit in love with this new version of Kyle.
Well, not in love. That was totally the wrong phrase to use. I enjoyed this new version. That was all, I told myself.
He supported himself over me, his hands slippery with the powdered sugar, and lowered until his lips grazed over my hardened nipple. He’d told me I couldn’t move my arms, but he hadn’t said shit about my lower body. I hooked my leg around his and tried to bring us together, but he locked a hand on my hip and pressed me against the floor. His expression was stern and scolding.
I closed my eyes as he licked the sugar from my skin in unhurried, teasing strokes. He was torturing me, that had to be it. Was he trying to get me to break and move my arms? I was going to die of need here on this dusty, sugar-coated kitchen floor.
I swallowed hard as he moved lower. “You’re going to go into sugar coma.”
His voice rang out from between my legs. “Worth it.”
“Then I’ll take advantage of you. Ride you exactly how I want to.”
He laughed like I was being ridiculous. “Please.” His tongue swiped between my folds, sending heat blasting up my spine. “I already told you. Not what you want, but what you need.” He licked me again. “And what you need is for me to make you come.”
Oh, yes. He was right about that. “Okay, then, fucking do it already.”
It was beyond difficult to stay still as he pleased me with his wicked tongue, especially when he made comments about how my sweet pussy tasted better the longer he went down on me. Fuck, his dirty mouth was incredible, both in what it said and how it teased me without words.
Desire spiraled up my legs as he sucked on my clit, pulling it into his mouth. His fingers were inside my pussy, fucking me deeply. I climbed the hill toward orgasm, beyond ready for it, when his fingers retreated and shifted down, between my cheeks.