He wanted her on top, her breasts bouncing as she rode him hard.
He would love the view from that position. He would grasp her hips
and help force her down so his dick could hit her sweet spot.
Her nipples were hard. Her pussy was already soft and wet. Every
cell in her body had been taken over by Cian’s assault. He was there
with her although their bodies were apart. It was intimate, so intimate.
It was a lot like the connection she’d felt with Beck in the arena,
though this time she knew what was happening.
Cian pumped his cock. His hand slid from the head down, down,
down to the place where the thick stalk met his balls. No wonder men
did this an awful lot. It was so different from touching herself. There
was a harder edge to it that she found fascinating. It felt really good,
and she suddenly knew Cian could do this all morning. He would be
careful and prolong the experience. He wanted to keep her in this
state. He wanted her writhing and begging. Eventually he would give
it to her, but only after he was satisfied that he had the upper hand.
Maybe turnabout was fair play. Cian thought he had all the
control. Could she break him? How would he like her pleasure?
Would her softness feel as good to him as his rough lust felt to her?
Meg pulled down the bodice of the dress and let her hands find
her breasts. She let every sensation flow over her and pushed it
toward him. Cian’s state of sexual arousal had her nipples peaked and
sensitized. She moaned as she had the twin sensations of Cian’s hand
on his cock and her fingers pulling at her nipples.
How did this work? She closed her eyes and fantasized. She
wanted Cian. He was different from his brother. He was so open with
his sexuality it led her to be open with hers. In her fantasy, she saw
Cian climb over her, his big body pressing hers down. She rolled her
stiff nipples between her thumbs and her forefingers, tugging lightly.
She imagined it was Cian’s mouth there.