He returned a look of exasperation. Why did so many women feel the need to be coy? This sort of beating around the bush was a bloody waste of time. Kimani had been less than straightforward. While she hadn’t been evasive just for the hell of it—she was doing her job and trying to hide her identity as an undercover reporter—her lack of truthfulness still rankled him.
“Well?” Eumie prompted.
Ben stared at her lips, inches from his. Women liked to play this sort of game—get the man to speak aloud what the woman was thinking.
He cut to the chase. Grabbing her by the back of her neck, he crushed his mouth over hers, smearing her lipstick.
She stiffened in surprise, then went all soft on him. As usual, she allowed him to direct the kissing, perfectly content to be the recipient of the action. Her lips were not as plump as Kimani’s, but they possessed the soft suppleness he had come to expect from women. After taking a brief moment to set the tone—he was in charge—he stumbled her back toward the bed. They fell onto it. Eumie purred as he kissed his way down her throat to her décolletage. The mischievous part of him considered giving her a hickey, but knowing that she had a photo shoot and how she would react, he decided it wasn’t worth it. He yanked the sleeves down her shoulders to expose more of her breast.
“Hey!” she yelped. “Be careful with my dress. It’s a Vera Wang.”
Ignoring her—if she really cared that much about the dress, she shouldn’t have tried to seduce him—he continued to pull the sleeves down past her pink lace bra. Yanking the bra cup down, he bared her rosy areola.
Kimani had mocha-colored areolas, large areolas that took up almost a third of the breast. His cock stiffened further at the memory.
When he started devouring Eumie’s nipple, she seemed to forget about her dress. She wriggled beneath him. “Do you like my new tits?”
“Sure,” he replied, squeezing the orb and finding it firm to the touch, not nearly as pliable and soft like real breast tissue.
She arched her back as he continued to suck and bite her nipple.
“If we go through with this,” he said, “it’s a fuck for fuck’s sake. Nothing more.”
“You’re so romantic, Benji.”
“I don’t want any misunderstanding.”
“A fuck for fuck’s sake. That’s all I’m looking for.”
Satisfied with her response, he reached beneath her dress and rubbed her crotch, feeling the dampness on her lace panties. He remembered how wet he could make Kimani. He remembered making her squirt for her first time. That was much better than popping cherries as Jake liked to do.
Knowing that Eumie liked the attention to her breasts, he went to town on them while he groped her between the legs. She gasped and sighed, and sighed and gasped. He intended for the sex to be relatively quick, not the drawn-out episodes he saved for his subs, and Eumie was aroused enough that she wouldn’t need a lot of foreplay. Pulling aside her lace thong, he fondled her clitoris.
“Oh, Benji,” she purred, a starry look in her eyes as she gazed at him.
“Missed me, didn’t you?” he returned.
She shrugged. “A little.”
He sank two digits into her hot, wet snatch, making her moan. “Just a little?”
He worked her till she was panting and writhing.
“Okay, maybe more than a little,” she admitted between sharp breaths.
He pulled her panties off and stuffed them between her ruby-red lips. “Taste that? That’s more than a little, love.”
After fetching a condom, he spread her legs and settled between them. He pulled out his cock and slipped on the condom. Eumie had always been good about taking her birth control pills, but he wasn’t going to take any chances
“Nice shave,” he commented, noting her bald mound.
Removing the panties from her mouth, she beamed at the compliment as he ran his finger through her hair, thick and straight compared to the delicate curls adorning Kimani’s mound.
He aimed his prick at her slit and shoved inside her wet heat. He closed his eyes and saw himself sinking into Kimani. His member throbbed.
With Kimani, he would have lowered himself onto his elbows so that he could take her mouth while he thrust into her. But he stayed upright with Eumie to avoid her perfume. He rolled his hips, driving himself deeper, imagining Kimani’s hips grinding in rhythm to his. He would pin her wrists above her head with one hand if they weren’t already tied together with his favorite hemp rope. His other hand would grasp her breast and pinch her nipple, lightly if she was being good, hard if she wasn’t.
Of course he would pinch her nipple hard. She hadn’t been very good at all. She had been very, very bad. She didn’t deserve to be made love to. She deserved to be fucked. Punished. Without safety words. Maybe without coming. He’d punish her so fucking hard—