I lick my lips and swallow. This is what I missed. A man solely focused on me and removes me from the pc climate of the world. “We’re really doing this?”
“You bet your ass we are. We got a lot of lost time to make up for, girl, you ready for that?” His voice is gravelly, and his eyes promise an unadulterated pleasure.
I want everything from him. I’m willing to take the risk.
“You about done?”
“Mmm-hmm.” I finish my drink. “Let’s go.”
He stands, tosses a twenty on the table, and pulls me to his side.
His warmth floods me, and I soak up the possession. After a life full of feeling displacement, belonging is a gift I can’t place a value on. Right now is our time. There’s no club looking on, waiting for the explosion, or woman pushing up to test out how true he’s going to be to his old lady. This is our time to reconnect and brush away the grime that’s gathered over the love we once held.
There’s nothing quite like flying down the road with a bike vibrating beneath you, your man in front of you, and nothing but sex on your mind. I feel bold and frisky. I run my hands down his chest, and grip the bulge in his jeans, knowing there’s nothing he can do. His cock grows, and I smirk. Earlier, he had all the power. Tonight, I’ll be taking some of that back. The last time we were together, I was young, inexperienced, and looking to him for all the answers. I know what I like and what I don’t now… I’ve picked up a few things. I press my breasts into his back and nip at his neck.
He speeds up.
I throw my head back and laugh, drunk on my newly found freedom.
We can hardly contain ourselves when we reach the B&B. I roam my hands over his body, and he pulls me toward our room. His throaty growls and grunts intoxicate me further. He opens the door, and we walk inside. The minute he closes it behind him, I press my body against his, grip his long locks, and pull him in for a kiss. I plunge my tongue into his mouth, tasting the whiskey he drank at dinner. His muscles quiver under my touch as I scrape my nails down his flat stomach. I possess him, returning the favor from earlier. He’s not the only one who wants to leave his mark. I bite down on his lip hard and he rocks into me. His dick is pressed into my belly. I’m wet, and horny. I want to lay my body out before him like a buffet, but I resist. I want to prove a point.
This ownership goes both ways. I work the button of his jeans free and wiggle my hand into his boxers, cupping his cock. He’s thick and long, about eight inches. I didn’t realize how well-endowed that was until I stepped back into the world of dating and found a steady beau. The tip of his cock is wet with pre-come and my mouth salivates. I fall to my knees, unzip his fly, then yank his pants and boxers down in one go.
“Jesus,” he rasps.
“No, Dixie Rose.” I wink. “If my pussy is yours,” I squeeze, “this is mine.”
“Shit yes, it is,” he agrees.
I circle his mushroom-shaped head with the tip of my tongue, pausing to swirl inside his seeping slit. He’s salty and addictive. I take him deep, keeping our gazes locked. The look of reverence on his face chases away the lingering doubts. This is my man. It’s time I claim him. I hollow my cheeks, taking him deep and keeping the rhythm slow. His hips rock in time. He fists my hair, but allows me to keep the control. I feel him harden and twitch in my mouth.
He’s panting, and his eyes are glazing over. “Shit, yeah, right there, babe. Damn.”
I know he’s close to coming. I release him with a loud pop, continuing to stroke him. “The only place I want you to come is inside of me.”
“Oh, fuck.”
I stand, and we rip our clothes off, tumbling onto the bed, a tangle of limbs. We roll over in the bed, and I clamber up his body, straddling his hips. I grind my pussy onto his cock, gliding over his quivering length.
He grips my hips.
I circle his wrists. “My turn to be in control.”
He lets his hands drop to his side and watches me with those alluring crystal blue eyes that hooked me from the start.
“Guide yourself home,” I say, raising off him.
Emotions darken his eyes. He grips his base, and I slowly lower myself onto him, one inch at a time. He’s stretching me past my comfort point and reforming my center to fit him as it once did. I pause once he’s fully seated, admiring the intense fullness I’ve missed. I tilt my head back and begin to ride him, focusing on the way we move together and flexing my muscles. If I look at him, I’ll go over, and I want to stretch things out.
“Damn, babe.”
I reach back and grab my ankles, taking him deeper.
“Shit…just like that.”
“You like that?” I whisper.
“Fuck yes.”