Steve acts like he's thinking about it for a moment. Then, without any kind of facial expression to give away his teasing, he replies, "Probably theft."
My jaw drops open. "What?! What would I steal?"
Still expressionless, he answers, "My heart."
I gape at him for another moment before kicking him with my foot where he's sitting at the end of the couch. "That was cheesy, even for you," I mumble.
He grins and moves my feet to his lap again. "You love it," he teases.
I only roll my eyes in response. I… don'thateit.
"What about me? What would I go to jail for?"
I tap my finger to my lips, mimicking his previous thoughtful expression. Then, in all seriousness, I answer, "Not paying your parking tickets."
His brow furrows, likely not expecting that response. "Why that?"
I shrug. "I don't know, you probably wouldn't pay your parking tickets and then end up with a warrant out for your arrest." I meet his gaze, forcing my expression to stay neutral. "You just… you look like that kind of guy."
"Oh, really?" he says, raising a skeptical brow. “I look like the kind of guy that couldn’t pay a $30 parking ticket?”
I bite my bottom lip in an effort to stifle my smile. But still, I nod.
He grabs my ankles with a growl and yanks me toward him. I squeal in surprise as I'm pulled down the length of the couch, and my legs are spread to make room for him. "You are such a smartass," he says.
A hungry look appears in his eyes as he crawls up my body. By the time he settles in between my legs, I can feel the hard ridge of his erection pressing against me. I moan at the feel of it, which elicits another growl from Steve as he starts kissing my neck.
"You're so sexy," he groans into my skin. "I know we’ve already had sex this weekend, but I already want you again."
I cup his face and bring his lips to mine, nodding eagerly. "Yes," I breathe. "Yes, please. Fuck me."
I feel him freeze briefly at my dirty words, before he's back to kissing me. When I slide my tongue in his mouth, he shivers in defeat and settles his weight on top of me.
I wrap my legs around him and grind my hips, desperate for more friction, desperate to feelmore. I try to meet his eyes in an effort to feel some kind of closeness, but he’s too focused on my body. I can only watch as his eager gaze roves over me, his hand reaching down to cup himself. And when he starts kneading my breast with his other hand, I moan at the barest of contact and arch into his touch.
Far too quickly, he pulls his hand away and straightens to stand next to the couch. When he starts removing his clothes, I take that as my cue to remove mine. I wiggle out of my shirt, bra, and leggings, with Steve standing naked and watching impatiently as I slide my panties down my legs.
For a moment, I think he's going to go down on me—that's how hard he’s staring at my cunt. I even spread my legs slightly and let my fingers drift down my stomach in temptation.
But the moment passes, and he presses my thigh down as he settles between my legs again.
I smother the disappointed sigh that wants to escape. It's not often that Steve puts his mouth on me, which is unfortunate because it's the only sure-fire way that he can get me off. It's hit or miss whether I come from penetration alone, so I always have a moment of irritation when he skips right to the main event.
But then he's kissing me and squeezing my breasts again, and I find myself pulled right back to that feeling of wanting him. I start grinding myself against the length of his erection.
Steve swiftly reaches down and guides himself inside me. I feel the groan that rumbles through his chest at the sensation, and he drops his head into my neck as his hips slowly start to thrust.
I wish I could feel the same satisfaction that he does at that first entry. Steve's not small, but he's also not very big. And where I’ve always felt like there were darker desires lurking inside me, Steve has always preferred vanilla, missionary sex. So as much as I want him to use me, to throw me down and mount me and fuck me as hard as he can, our sexual chemistry has never been like that. It's not exactly sweet or gentle, but it's not nearly as rough as I think I would like it. There's just enough friction and pounding to make one, or sometimes both of us, come.
Maybe Steve senses my need for more because he starts to pick up his pace and intensify his thrusts. With his arms tucked under my shoulders and his face still buried in my neck, his body is angled low against mine, making a delicious spark of pleasure shoot through my body when the fuzzy hair around his shaft scratches against my clit. I gasp in surprise at the sensation. And when it happens again, I moan and start eagerly rocking against him for more.
The sound of my moan seems to affect Steve. I hear a muttered “shit”in my ear, and then his pace becomes frenzied.
"Damn, baby, you feel so good," he groans against my skin. "You like that, don't you?"
My eyes are squeezed shut as I nod quickly, and as a sense of desperation overtakes me. I feel like I'm running out of time to capitalize on this small feeling of bliss.
All too soon, Steve's hips lose their rhythm as he comes with a long, low groan. He buries himself deep inside me one last time before slumping onto my chest. I can feel him panting, trying to catch his breath.