He’s bigger than I’d realized, even after touching him over his boxers, and I let out a moan as I start to stroke him, my thumb finding the slick tip. Antonio groans as I press the pad of my thumb against the swollen head, but he pulls his hips back, his cock sliding out of my grasp.
“Wait,” he tells me with a lustful grin, laughing as I pout up at him, his fingers still stroking inside of me. My legs are starting to tremble, my toes curling so that I’m off balance, on the brink of an orgasm I’m almost afraid of because it promises to be so strong. I’ve never come like this before, pinned up against a counter with one of the hottest men I’ve ever seen, demanding that I stare into his eyes as I come. I can see those eyes glazing with pleasure as he bends down, capturing my mouth with his and sucking my lower lip into it.
“Hold on to something,” he groans against my mouth, his thumb finally finding my aching clit, the last thing I needed to push me over the edge. I grab the countertop with both hands as my head falls back, his arm tightening around me as he senses me about to come. I can feel his cock pressing against my stomach as I arch, writhing and moaning.
The orgasm bursts over me, tensing every muscle in my body as I cry out, his fingers thrusting inside of me and his thumb massaging my clit as he carries me over the edge.If his fingers feel this good, what would his cock feel like?The thought burns in my mind as I writhe on his hand, the pleasure sharp and intense, and I can feel his warm breath on my neck.
His fingers slip out of me as I reach for his cock, his tongue sliding down my neck as he grabs my hips to turn me around again, and I’m going to let him. I’m going to let him fuck me against this counter, bent over it, and I’m going to–
Just then, he steps forward and slips on my dress, sending us both to the floor.
“Fuck.” I hit my head only lightly, but it still hurts enough for me to say, “Ouch.” I squint up at him as he inspects me.
“Fuck. That was so, so not smooth. Are you okay?” He’s inspecting me as I nod, his face coming back into focus after being slightly blurry. Not from the fall, but the spinning of the alcohol and the high I get from his lips.
“I’m okay.” I pull his head to mine so that we’re inches apart.
“Stell, it might be for the best—”
“No.” I place my hand over his mouth, and he grabs my wrist, pulling my hand away.
“Stella,”
“Please don’t stop,” I beg, looking between his eyes now lingering on my bare breasts. His erect length feels even harder against my thigh as I bring my lips to his neck, kissing down to his collarbone.
“Stella–” he groans my name warningly, but he’s stopped fighting me. He sucks in a breath as I reach down, wrapping my hand around his cock again, and his hips thrust against my hand even as he bites out: “we shouldn’t–”
We’re both saying things our bodies no longer mean. He’s already palming my breast as he says it, his fingers pinching my nipple as I arch against his hard, muscular body. I’m beyond caring that the water is boiling dry on the stove or that we’re on the kitchen floor or really anything except the feeling of his throbbing cock in my hand, his pillowy lips against mine, his breath on my neck as his hand leaves my breast, sliding back down to the ache between my legs.
“More,” I whisper, stroking him faster as he rubs his fingers over my clit, my pussy so drenched with arousal that they slip easily inside of me as he drags them lower, his thumb pressed over my sensitive clit again.
“Shit, Stella–” he breathes, groaning with pleasure as I manipulate his length, finding the speed and length of strokes that he likes best–fast and quick, my palm rubbing over his slick tip with each slide upwards. His voice sayswe shouldn’t, but he tilts his head back, looking straight into my eyes as he shoves his fingers deeper inside of me, his thumb catching the rhythm that I like again as I stroke his cock faster.
“Antoni–” I pant his name, feeling close to the brink again. “Don’t stop–”
“I won’t,” he assures me. “God, you’re so fucking tight–” his fingers curl inside me as he lowers his mouth to mine, kissing me roughly as I breathe him in, biting his lower lip and making him suck in a breath. I’m so close to coming, his fingers touching every nerve that I need stroked to send me over the edge into bliss, and I want to feel him erupt too–want to feel his body tense and hear him groan as he comes. Somehow the thought of his cum spurting over my hand turns me on even more, my pussy tightening around his fingers, and he bites back a curse.
“Fuck, your pussy is perfect,” he growls, and I stroke faster, tipping my head back as he leans over me, our breathing so fast that we’re both nearly panting with need. I’m impressed he’s basically doing a plank with one hand this whole time. My eyes trail over his muscular arms, veins popping as he hits my aroused mound with every thrust of his hand.
Fuck, this is bad. This is so bad. I shouldn’t be about to climax twice in this kitchen, not with Antonio. Not when we made a deal. Am I about to lose everything because I’ve been so careless?
His body is so glorious; I can’t imagine not fucking him ever again. All I want is his entire length inside me. The size of it could arouse anything with eyes. I’m seriously fucked even if he doesn’t fuck me because everything he does is flawless, even the way he breathes and moans.
What the hell are we doing?