“Fucking hell, woman,” he groans. Dragging the head of his cock through my lips, he coats himself in my arousal. As he moves us forward, I lean on my arms, now against the mirror, watching as he teases my clit with his dick from behind. I moan with each graze, my hips lifting for more.
“I can’t wait any longer. I need you inside me. I want to feel you stretch me, Henry.” I barely finish speaking his name, because he listens. He fucks his cock into me hard and fast, taking my breath away. Groaning, he buries himself to the hilt, but he doesn’t move as I clench around him. He’s big, and he’s giving me a moment to adjust to his size.
The moment he angles his hips, I know I’m not going to last. I’m going to fall apart as soon as he starts pulling out of me. I can’t think of anything other than how good he feels. I open my eyes and see the edge he’s balancing on in our reflection. I watch as sweat, or maybe water, from my hair drips down his shoulder, trailing down the length of his tattoo. Just looking at him is a fantasy, and now he’s finally inside me.
He moves behind me like he’s warming up a ride. Just a few pulls and pushes that are slow and sensual. Slow enough so I can feel how long and hard he is. Slow enough that I can feel my orgasm building, even more so with every moan we share. My body follows his rhythm and I meet the rolling of his hips. My eyes must have drifted closed, because moments later, they startle wide as Henry bites my shoulder. “That’s it, ride me. Fuck yourself right on my cock, Pixie.”
And I do as I’m told. I watch as he watches me from behind, and the look on his face makes me feel powerful. Beautiful. The way his expression changes as I slow my movements, twerk my hips backward, and tilt my pussy just an inch so I know he can glide in deeper. As soon as it happens, he breaks. Whatever was holding him back is gone. He meets my movements and drives into me, grabbing onto my hips with a roughened grip that’ll leave marks later. I feel him harden more, and I know he’s close.
“I knew you’d feel so fucking good. Fuck, Pixie, that’s it. Squeeze my cock with your perfect cunt,” he whispers, his tongue gliding up my neck.
There’s no response. Those words just sent another wave of wetness around him that I can hear with every thrust. Moving one of his hands from my hips to my center, his fingers rub in small, purposed circles around my clit. Moments later, I’m falling over the edge into a complete, full-body orgasm. I feel it everywhere, from the bottom of my feet to the palms of my hands, up my back, and over my shoulders. My breasts press against the cool mirror and my pussy pulses with the beat of my rapidly pumping heart. My cunt grips his cock as I scream my pleasure, and seconds later, he moans. The loudest, most deep and guttural moan, as he spills into me. That sexy as fuck sound sucks whatever’s left of my orgasm from me, leaving me trembling against him.
He pumps himself as deep as he can go, and I take all of it. Filling me exactly how I asked, sweat drips from each of our bodies. I pant, trying to catch my breath, my head pressed against the mirror. His breathing matches mine, fogging up our reflection. He rests his head between my shoulder blades, and then moves his hands from my hips and pussy to around my middle, holding me tight. He hugs my body with reverence. There isn’t a single thing that will ever feel better than his arms around me. I don’t care how we got to this moment, but it’s sweaty, messy, and pure perfection.
Minutes pass as we lean against the mirror and each other, but just as I feel like my legs might give out from under me, I’m being lifted and draped over Henry’s shoulder.
“Henry!” I shriek out.
“Not even close to done yet, Pixie,” he says as he bites my ass.
Dropping me onto the bed, he crawls over my body. The weight of him is welcome and I smile as I look into his half-blue, half-green eye. As I reach up and touch his eyebrow, he leans into my hand.
“That was better than I imagined,” I say, more content than I’ve ever been. “I’ve thought about that more than I’m even comfortable admitting, and it ended up being even better.”
He smiles, big and wide, and then kisses me. His soft, full lips dance with mine so effortlessly, it’s no wonder I’d kept my mouth from others. Why dabble with mediocrity when you’ve felt perfection? He moves his lips down my neck. Softly at first, and then as he meets my collarbone, he nips at the skin. I tilt my head down to watch as he draws a warm, wet line from one side of my breast, over my nipple and then across the rest of its swell. He doesn’t stop there to play. He keeps going. Straight through the valley between both and to the other side. As if there was some kind of dessert he was licking up. It makes me feel entirely worshipped. Decadent, even.
I’ve always wanted to be savored by someone. Tasted as if I’m designed with layers of flavors that need to be discovered and then revered. He is probably the best cook I’ve ever met. He knows what to look for. How to taste and discover, and it's me that he wants to devour. Again.
Coming back to my nipple, he pulls it into his mouth, sucking on it until it peaks to his satisfaction. He runs the tip of his tongue over it, flicking it just enough so that the change in pressure drives a wave of renewed need through me. Moving one hand down my waist, he cups it over the top of my pussy and then flexes his middle finger so it brushes over my clit, making my body shudder, still sensitive from what just happened. His finger is coated in a mix of my arousal and his satisfaction. An erotic mess that I have every intention of repeating as often as our bodies will allow over the next two days.
I’ve had samples of this man over the years. Small morsels. Nothing like this. Days to play without repercussions. The urgent yet slow discovery of all the things we’ve ever wanted from the other. At the core of it, it’s simply each other, though.
I’ve never allowed myself to think all of this, never mind act on it, but right now, what would it help to hold anything back. This may be all we get. And I’m gonna get it all.
Another lick pulls my thoughts back to the room. This bed. This man.
“I had no idea you were a boob guy,” I say, smiling. He drags his teeth along my nipple again, making me yelp. “I do have great tits, though, so I get it.”
He sinks another finger into me and curves it just right. The movement. The angle. Henry knows what he’s doing.Thatta boy.
“I stare at your tits any chance I get. And they’re fucking incredible.”
Lick.
“They’re sexy as fuck. You told me that once. A long time ago.”
Lick.
“I’ve wanted to be buried in between them every time I catch a glimpse,” he says as he moves his mouth lower. He moves his kisses toward the side of my body, the blank space of skin that runs from under the pit of my arm to where my ribs end. There’s nothing special there other than the fact that I’ve never been kissed in those places. No ink there either. There’s never been anyone to take the time to run their lips across my skin in places that aren’t designed specifically for pleasure. Henry’s mouth is running a canvas campaign along the untouched places of my body, officially securing every new spot ashisin my mind. His perfectly curved fingers move languidly inside of me as he continues his exploration. One that’s slow and intimate, completely different from what we just did, but equally sexy. My body is already buzzing with the promise of another orgasm.
I look down to watch, seeing his eyes closed, lost in me. Tracking coordinates across my torso and down my hip and back again. His thumb makes small circles over my clit as his fingers continue to work in and out at a perfect rhythm to drive appreciative little moans from my chest. The rough animal and dirty promises did incredible things to me, but this version of him, watching him savor this, it’s doing more than just turn me on. It’s making me fall.
“Tell me how long you’ve wanted this,” I say quietly. I’m not even sure why I would ask, but I need to hear his voice; otherwise, I’ll crumble to the release he’s teasing from me, and I’m not ready just yet.
He moves his mouth lower so that his lips hover just over his thumb. They stay there, the warmth of his breath making me fidget, trying to get him closer.
“That feels so good. Henry, you had better put that mouth on me,” I groan out. I flex my hips and move them in sync with the way his fingers are diving in and playing me.