whispers against my lips. “I could kiss you all night.”
Oh yeah, I could definitely be on board with that plan. I scoot even closer, throwing one leg across his lap so I can grind my hardening cock into his thigh. His hands sneak up under my shirt without any apparent destination, simply petting me, letting me feel the cool blast of air conditioning in contrast to the warmth of his palms.
I feel like a horny teenager, rutting in the backseat of the car, one hand on his chest, the other clutching the sizeable bulge in his pants. He slides a hand down the back of mine and squeezes, sending little starbursts of pain through me and making me squirm.
I lose myself in his kiss, let myself fly on the sensations of pain and arousal twining together. The gentleness of his hands on my ass sets a slow rhythm between us, as inevitable as waves lapping on the shore. By the time the cab pulls up in front of my house and I shove a handful of bills at the driver, I’m so turned on I can barely breathe—from kissing! We stumble from the cab to the house, still groping each other, and somehow I manage to get us inside without dropping my keys.
Wish shoves me up against the front door, wrapping his arms around my waist. I love that he’s the same height as me, that we can stare right into each other’s eyes while he tells me, “I want you, Eddie S-Class. You make me crazy with it. Can’t wait to get you naked, see every bit of your sexy skin. Want to leave marks on you you’ll feel for days. Want to make you cry. Want to make you come so hard you never forget me.”
I don’t tell him he’s already unforgettable. That ego of his doesn’t need any more stroking. I pull my clothes off and I’m reaching for his. He stops me, pushing my hand away.
“Shoes first,” he whispers.
Oh, hell.
I’m not a submissive. I don’t get turned on by following orders, and I sure-as-the-orgasm-he-promised-me don’t have a kink for being on my knees. But I want him naked, and the shoes do have to come off. I glare at him, and he stares back—how the fuck is he so calm?
“So take them off,” I growl.
“It doesn’t make you weak, taking care of another person.”
“I know that.”
“So why won’t you take off my shoes?”
“Why do you want me on my knees?” I counter. “I thought you weren’t into that Dom shit.”
“Why is your dick so fucking hard?” He slides his fingers down my shaft, cups my balls, and flicks behind them, hitting the ring back there with perfect accuracy.
I drop to my knees.
My face flushes with anger and resentment as I slip his feet from his shoes and roll his socks off. I thrust them aside and start to stand, but his hand, rough on my shoulder, holds me down. I scowl at his bare feet, seething with a frustration I can’t put into words. What gives this man the right to make me speechless?
He lets go of my shoulder, snatches my hair, and jerks my head up without warning.
“Fuck!” I shout, jumping to my feet. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
He throws me back against the door, his hand still in my hair the only thing keeping me from bouncing right off the hard wood surface. Ah, fuck yeah .
We struggle for a moment, pushing, wrestling, grappling for advantage. A thrill shoots through me like electricity as I get a good grip on him. I haul him around by his clothes, shove him backward, and slam him against the entryway wall with a loud thunk .
He tosses his head back and laughs, then lunges for me again. This time, he gets a hand around my wrist and twists my arm behind me. I swing with my other arm, which he plucks from the air like he’s catching a ball, and I’m well and truly caught.
Arousal makes my limbs heavy, a rich warmth spreading through me. My heart races with the rush of the tussle, and I squirm against him one last time, grateful to feel his hard cock through his pants. The best part of wrestling with a lover is the point of acquiescence, that moment of being
Oh yeah, I could definitely be on board with that plan. I scoot even closer, throwing one leg across his lap so I can grind my hardening cock into his thigh. His hands sneak up under my shirt without any apparent destination, simply petting me, letting me feel the cool blast of air conditioning in contrast to the warmth of his palms.
I feel like a horny teenager, rutting in the backseat of the car, one hand on his chest, the other clutching the sizeable bulge in his pants. He slides a hand down the back of mine and squeezes, sending little starbursts of pain through me and making me squirm.
I lose myself in his kiss, let myself fly on the sensations of pain and arousal twining together. The gentleness of his hands on my ass sets a slow rhythm between us, as inevitable as waves lapping on the shore. By the time the cab pulls up in front of my house and I shove a handful of bills at the driver, I’m so turned on I can barely breathe—from kissing! We stumble from the cab to the house, still groping each other, and somehow I manage to get us inside without dropping my keys.
Wish shoves me up against the front door, wrapping his arms around my waist. I love that he’s the same height as me, that we can stare right into each other’s eyes while he tells me, “I want you, Eddie S-Class. You make me crazy with it. Can’t wait to get you naked, see every bit of your sexy skin. Want to leave marks on you you’ll feel for days. Want to make you cry. Want to make you come so hard you never forget me.”
I don’t tell him he’s already unforgettable. That ego of his doesn’t need any more stroking. I pull my clothes off and I’m reaching for his. He stops me, pushing my hand away.
“Shoes first,” he whispers.
Oh, hell.
I’m not a submissive. I don’t get turned on by following orders, and I sure-as-the-orgasm-he-promised-me don’t have a kink for being on my knees. But I want him naked, and the shoes do have to come off. I glare at him, and he stares back—how the fuck is he so calm?
“So take them off,” I growl.
“It doesn’t make you weak, taking care of another person.”
“I know that.”
“So why won’t you take off my shoes?”
“Why do you want me on my knees?” I counter. “I thought you weren’t into that Dom shit.”
“Why is your dick so fucking hard?” He slides his fingers down my shaft, cups my balls, and flicks behind them, hitting the ring back there with perfect accuracy.
I drop to my knees.
My face flushes with anger and resentment as I slip his feet from his shoes and roll his socks off. I thrust them aside and start to stand, but his hand, rough on my shoulder, holds me down. I scowl at his bare feet, seething with a frustration I can’t put into words. What gives this man the right to make me speechless?
He lets go of my shoulder, snatches my hair, and jerks my head up without warning.
“Fuck!” I shout, jumping to my feet. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
He throws me back against the door, his hand still in my hair the only thing keeping me from bouncing right off the hard wood surface. Ah, fuck yeah .
We struggle for a moment, pushing, wrestling, grappling for advantage. A thrill shoots through me like electricity as I get a good grip on him. I haul him around by his clothes, shove him backward, and slam him against the entryway wall with a loud thunk .
He tosses his head back and laughs, then lunges for me again. This time, he gets a hand around my wrist and twists my arm behind me. I swing with my other arm, which he plucks from the air like he’s catching a ball, and I’m well and truly caught.
Arousal makes my limbs heavy, a rich warmth spreading through me. My heart races with the rush of the tussle, and I squirm against him one last time, grateful to feel his hard cock through his pants. The best part of wrestling with a lover is the point of acquiescence, that moment of being
Similar Books
