Growling, he licks his way up my soaked folds. I gasp, a hushed scream escaping with my exhale as I shake in his grasp. Everything else disappears. There's only him and me. Only sensation. Blissful, teasing sensations.
“Breckin . . . I-I,” I pant, my stomach flexing with each gentle flick as my body climbs higher, coiled so tight I might burst at any second, “you . . .”
He chuckles, the vibrations going straight to my clit as I cry out, digging my nails into his scalp. “What do you need, Sweetheart?”
“You . . . Now.”
He chuckles again, earning another scream. Standing, he picks me up and carries me to his bed. Yet, he still retains that same slow, controlled pace.
Laying me on my back, he runs his hands along my leg, starting at my thigh and working his way down. His fingers curl around my calf as he picks my leg up, kissing and sucking his way along the subtle curves. He reaches my boot and slips it off. Dropping it on the floor, he bends my knee and tenderly places my foot on the bed so my knee stays in the air. Caressing my other leg, he repeats the process, leaving me spread wide open before him.
If I could formulate the words, I’d scream for him to hurry or simply tackle him. Instead, I pant as his eyes anchor me in place while he undoes every button on his shirt. I stifle a moan when it falls open, revealing his washboard abs and smooth, broad chest.
He unrolls his sleeves, the process painstakingly long. He unbuttons each of his cuffs. Like a stripper drawing out every second in a never ending tease, the shirt drops to the floor. Pulling a condom out of his pocket, he tosses it on the corner of the bed. With his eyes locked on mine, he unbuckles his belt, then slides it off, one loop at a time.
“Breckin,” I warn. That tight ball inside my core recedes like a wave that never crested on the shore returning to the ocean. Still, I moan, a bead of moisture dripping down my crack as he unzips his dark jeans.
“Patience, Sweetheart.”
I growl, earning me a chuckle as his lips tilt into a smirk.
“We didn’t get near enough time this morning. I’m savoring every second with you.” He drops his pants. They hit the floor with a thud.
I nod, wiggling on the bed, unable to control my movements as his hard dick bobs while he steps out of his jeans. Thick, long, and veiny, a mouthwatering bead pools on the tip.
The mattress dips as he climbs on the bed. In one smooth motion, he prowls up to me. With his jade eyes locked on mine, he leans down and bites my clit, then sucks it into his mouth.
I explode. Stars cloud my vision as my back arches off the bed in a sudden orgasm. I scream, waves of bliss rolling through my veins.
While I ride out my high, he grabs the condom. Ripping it open, he slides it over his length, then strokes himself a few times. Before I’ve even come down, he climbs over me the rest of the way. Hovering above me in a low plank as though he’s afraid to sink his weight down and hurt me, he stares into my eyes. Our chests heave with shared breaths.
“Asra,” he whispers as the silence stretches between us.
With that same painstakingly slow pace, he eases inside me. One long, slow stroke until he’s buried to the hilt. We both moan, our bodies shaking.
His lips meet mine as he starts to move. Tender and gentle, each long stroke fuses our intimate connection. He doesn’t fuck me. Nor is it just sex or scratching a need. It’s more. So much more.
It’s everything. It’s there, in the reverence in his eyes. He worships me, each deliberate stroke proof of something I cannot name. The hope and dream, always too inconceivable to imagine, circles between us in words we refuse to admit aloud.
My body climbs higher and higher. Still, he keeps that same slow speed. He growls when I run my nails down his back, kissing me harder, yet he never sinks his weight into me. As I near that peak, my body almost tumbling over the edge, he rolls over, leaving me on top while he lays stretched out on his back.
Straddling him, I roll my hips. He moans, his face contorting in ecstasy. I pick myself up and plunge down, taking all of his hard length, our cries mixing. It’s so much fuller, deeper at this angle. I pant a few times, acclimating myself to his sheer size before I raise my hips and repeat the move.
“Fuck, Asra.” Reaching up, he caresses my torso, kneading my breasts before trailing his hands around to my back.
Staring into his eyes, I set a leisurely pace, watching every one of his reactions. That empowered feeling from before washes over me, more intoxicating than the purest moonshine, more addictive than the strongest drug. I want to bathe in that feeling, drown in it. I circle my hips. His abs flex as his mouth falls open.
“That’s it, Sweetheart. Right like that.” He caresses my torso in another sweeping arch before gripping my hips.
I trail my fingertips along his six-pack, relishing every slight curve. The overwhelming desire to lick and taste him takes hold until it consumes all other thoughts.
Circling my hips, I lean down. His grip on my hips tightens. I place one kiss on his chest. He groans, all of his muscles flexing as his dick jolts inside of me. I gasp, then place another kiss higher on his torso.
Something falls to the ground behind us.
Jolting up, I twist my shoulders around and peer behind me at the doorway.
My mouth falls open, all of the air in my lungs rushing out. I freeze.