“Um…well, if you don’t want me to leave, we can talk?” he babbles. He’s trying to hide his arousal, incorrectly thinking that I would be upset by it. “I have some things we need to talk about…”
Yeah, no. That can wait until later. Right now, I don’t want to hear about truths or secrets or anything like that. I just want to feel him.
“Fuck that,” I interrupt. “I want you to fuck me.”
I grab him and drag him down into a fierce kiss. Meeting his lips is like coming home after a very long day. It’s only been four days, but I’ve actually missed feeling and tasting him. Perhaps that was why it was so easy to get so aroused around him. I wanted him but I stamped it down because I was angry. Now, with him right here in front of me, it’s impossible to deny the desire I feel for him.
“Fuck,” Lyle groans into the kiss.
Yes, that’s exactly what’s going to happen here. I’m horny and I want Lyle. Everything else is far less important right now. It can wait until after.
Then he pulls back
“Amanda, what’s going on?” he asks, panting. “I haven’t heard anything from you, I think you’re angry at me and now you want to sleep with me? You need to tell me what’s happening here!”
“I want you,” I say bluntly. I push him back to the couch and straddle his hips. “I want to feel you in me. I want to touch you. I want to suck your dick.”
He groans, a deep sound that shoots through me. He still manages to put his hands on my hips, preventing me from moving anymore. I’m a little impressed at his will; I can feel how hard he is, but he’s still trying to stop.
“Amanda,” he groans.
“Lyle…I want you,” I say. I don’t want this nice guy stuff. I just want him. “Please. We can talk later. Right now, feeling you in me is all that I want. I want you to fuck me.”
He shudders.
“Are you sure?” he asks.
I circle my hips, gyrating sensually on his laps. His head falls back and his grip on my hips loosen.
“Completely,” I assu
re him,
He looks up at me. And then his hands dig into my hips once more, this time for a completely different reason, and he bucks up against me, desperately searching for friction. I lean over him and flip my shirt over my head; I need to feel his skin right now.
For a moment, a paranoid thought that Lyle will be able to see a baby bump enters my mind. But I shake it away. It’s only been three weeks, so that wouldn’t be possible right now. Still, it feels a little strange to know that I’m about to have sex with the father of the baby growing inside me.
And incredibly arousing.
“Shit,” Lyle gasps, running his hands up my bare sides. I’m not wearing a bra; I’d changed into my comfortably clothes as soon as I’d gotten home, and shed the bra, intending on curling up in bed for the rest of the night with a book. “Let me up.”
I shift backward, and he sits up awkwardly, leaning against the arm of the couch. He shrugs out of his shirt; he’s wearing business clothes, I suddenly notice. He’s not wearing the suit jacket, but the shirt and pants are definitely part of the ensemble. That meant he came straight from work, not even caring if I thought there was something strange about his clothing.
This man is amazing.
The buttons spring free and I push the shirt down over his shoulders. His skin is already glistening with sweat and we’re both panting. As I brush my hands over his chest, I can feel his wildly beating heart beneath my palm. I’m doing this to him. He’s this aroused because of me, and me alone.
“God, I want you so bad,” I breathe.
I lift myself onto my knees and pull teasingly on the elastic hem on the comfortable pants I’m wearing. Lyle watches the movement with hungry eyes and then lowers his own hands to his belt, fumbling with his buckle as he pulls it free. I shimmy my pants down my legs and sit back so I can strip them slowly down my smooth thighs, watching as his fingers slip while he eyes each move I make. By the time I’ve taken my pants off, leaving me just in panties, he’s only succeeded in undoing the button.
“Let me,” I purr.
I bat his hands away and slowly pull the zip down, making sure to palm his erection through his pants as I do so. His chest is heaving and he throws his head back against the armrest as he groans and writhes against me.
“Fuck, so good,” he gasps.
I pull his pants down along with his boxers and he lifts his hips to help me. Between us, we manage to slip his pants down over his legs, and strip them free of his ankles. His cock bobs up and down eagerly, waiting for my attention.