Yes. Please. Please. Please.
He turns my head to him and captures my mouth with his. At the same time, he releases his grip on my breast, only to drive his hand between my legs and thrust three fingers into my melting core. A scream boils up, but he swallows it down. He begins to finger fuck me in earnest—in-out-in—while he thrusts his tongue into my mouth and mirrors the action. He deepens the kiss, sucking on me, tasting me, possessing my mouth with such confidence that my limbs weaken.
I part my legs, allowing him further access, and he slips a fourth finger in. He plunges his fingers in and out of me. The squelching sound penetrates the sexual haze that has wrapped around me. Heat sears my skin as I realize just how turned on I am. I’ve probably dripped all over his bathrobe. I try to wriggle away, and that’s when he curves his fingers, hitting that spot deep inside of me. My belly seems to fold in on itself. Sensations spiral out from his touch as he doesn’t stop cramming his fat digits in and out of me. The tremors race up my legs, up my spine. I clamp my thighs together, trying to stop that headlong rush to that place where I know my pleasure lies. Even as I strain against him, curving my body as I try to reach for that hallowed space where I can finally give in to this pleasure that threatens to overpower me. He grinds his heel into my clit, and that’s when I explode. Moisture rushes out from my core, and the pressure at the base of my spine shatters.
I must scream, but he absorbs the noise. He continues to plunge his fingers in and out of me as I lazily circle back to earth. He releases my mouth, and I sense him watching me as the aftershocks grip me. He finally pulls his fingers out of me. The next second, he drags his fingers across my lips. "Open," he says in a husky voice.
I open my mouth, and he feeds me his fingers. I lick them off, still not opening my eyes. He leans in, kissing me on each eyelid. I turn my face into his chest, curling into him. Allowing myself, for the first time, to drink in his scent, to revel in how he surrounds me, how his heat cocoons me. How the taste of his skin and my cum coats my tongue. Darkness tugs at me, and I give in to the sleep that pulls me under.
When I wake up, I’m alone.
28
Christian
I hadn’t meant to allow her to come this quickly. I had wanted to withhold that orgasm a little longer, until she had earned it. Until I had a chance to push her boundaries a little more. Until I had made her yearn for her release so her orgasm would be even more intense. But when I had felt her sweet curved bottom against my already hard shaft, all restraint had slipped from my mind. I couldn’t stop myself from touching her and squeezing those gorgeous tits. And when she had moaned and cried out, I hadn’t been able to hold back any longer. I had smelled her arousal, had known that she was already halfway to coming, and that’s when I had kissed her and fucked her with my fingers. She had been hot and tight, and so wet.
I hadn’t stopped kissing her, thrusting my fingers in and out of her. Not until her back had bowed, her shoulders had gone rigid, and she had come.
I bring my fingers up to my mouth and suck on them. The taste of her clings to them, combined with her scent. That distinctive honeysuckle taste of hers clings to my palate and goes straight to my head. My cock thickens—of course, it does. Fuck this. Can’t I go a few minutes without wanting to be inside of her?
I spring up to my feet from where I had been seated by the fire and head for the back door. As soon as I open it, the cold rushes in. I slam the door shut behind me, stomp through the piled-up snow and toward the small shed in the back. The cold sinks into my blood, and I shiver. Shit, I should have, at least, worn my coat, but I had been in such a hurry to get out of there that I had forgotten to put it on. I stalk over to the shed, pull open the door, then head for the pile of wood in the corner. I grab hold of as many as I can, then shoulder the door open—walk back to the main house. Once again, the wind slams the door behind me with a crash that reverberates around the place.
I prowl over to the fireplace, place the stack of wood next to it. Bending down on one knee, I add some of the logs to the fire.
The hair on the back of my neck rises, and I know she has entered the room. She walks over to stand next to the fire, and she’s still naked. Good, at least she’s still obeying my orders.
"Did you just go out into the snow?" She glances sideways at me.
I don’t answer.
"I assume you had to go get the firewood. That’s why you went out?"
I stare into the heart of the fire.
"And you didn’t wear your coat?"
I turn to scowl at her, "Don’t tell me what to do."
She sets her jaw, "So, you’re a big, bad Mafia guy, but going out into the cold without a coat is not good for you."
"Aww, are you worried about me, Flower?" I smirk.
Her face tightens. "You know what, forget it. I don’t know why I keep trying to have a normal conversation with you."
"My point, exactly." I rise to my feet and glance down at her. She really is so tiny; I keep forgetting that. Of course, when I am inside her, nothing matters. Nothing except that hot, tight hole of hers which had clasped around my dick and milked me with such intensity, I had been overwhelmed with pleasure. The kind that I had never experienced before…and that’s saying something.
Since being celibate is not one of my strengths, I have been with enough women to know when I find something that is different. And she is different. She’s unlike the others. All the more reason to find a way to keep my distance from her. I initiated this fake relationship with her. Doesn’t mean I have to conceal my tastes from her, now do I?
"There is nothing normal about my proclivities, Flower," I drawl.
"Like I care."
She turns to flounce away, but I call out to her, "Stop, right there."
She pauses at once, and fuck, if I don’t come right then. The fact that she obeys me without hesitation… Is she aware just how much of a turn-on that is?
"Turn around."