I should have felt sated.
But there was renewed desire quickly flickering from flame to fire.
My greedy hands were grabbing at his jacket, shoving it down his shoulders, and tossing it to the floor.
“We can stop,” he murmured against my lips.”
“No, we can’t,” I objected as my fingers went to his bowtie, and then the buttons of his shirt, pulling that off, and tossing it into the growing pile on the floor as well.
His cock was straining against his pants, pressing into my hip, promising perfect fullness, and relief from the clawing need within me once again.
I tried to fuss with his belt, but it stubbornly refused to budge.
“Brock, please,” I begged.
He shifted his weight backward and off of me, balancing on his knees as he looked down at me.
“God, you’re fucking beautiful,” he said as his gaze moved over me.
My heart felt like it swelled in my chest at those words.
But the need for him was stronger than wanting to bask in the admiration in his eyes right about then.
My hands went to his belt once again, yanking at it, a move that got a small, sexy little chuckle out of Brock as he took my hands and slid them to his thighs so that he could work the frustrating belt loose, then pulling it off and tossing it to the ground.
My hands moved back upward, working his button and zipper free, then sliding his pants down his hips.
My fingers moved across the front of his boxer briefs, teasing the thick length of his cock.
His gaze was molten as I pulled down his boxer briefs, exposing him, then closing my hand around him.
A shudder coursed through him at the sensation.
But then he was reaching back for the wallet in his pocket, pulling out a condom foil, and tossing his wallet aside.
I stroked him for just another moment before letting my hands fall away, so he could slide on the protection.
Once he was done, my hands moved up his sides to grab his arms, pulling until he folded forward and pressed down onto me.
His cock settled against my cleft, making me shift my hips until the underside of him was flat against me, allowing me to grind against his hardness to ease some of the frustrated ache inside of me as his lips took mine once again.
It started slow and sweet before his lips got harder and more demanding as we writhed against each other.
He pulled back to look at me as the head of his cock pressed against me, then slid inside with one smooth, deep stroke as he buried to the hilt, filling me completely.
My legs rose to his sides as my hips writhed against him and my walls tightened around him.
“Fuck,” he hissed, closing his eyes for a second, looking for some control. “Haven’t been able to stop thinking about this,” he added, lips pecking mine lightly a few times. “Better than I could have imagined,” he added as his hips started to rock in and out of me.
The intensity in his eyes as we moved together made me almost immediately emotional. Folding up, I tried to hide my face in his neck.
“I want to look at you when I’m inside of you,” he objected, pulling back, and sliding an arm around my waist, then shifting our positions, so I was straddling him. “So fucking beautiful,” he hissed as his hands brushed my hair off my neck so he could lean forward and press a kiss at the space where my neck met my shoulder. “Ride me, baby,” he groaned, voice tight with his own need for release.
Somehow, his need only spurred on mine, and my hips started to move.
Slowly at first, then faster and faster as we drove each other higher and higher.
One of Brock’s hands settled at the side of my neck. The other slid between my thighs, engaging my clit as I continued to ride him.