I scrambled down the stairs after Dru, not really sure why, apart from a gut feeling that I didn’t want her to leave yet.
I just wanted my dick inside her, part of me argued, and I knew she didn’t need that from me.
Didn’t stop my dick from wanting her, though. Or my feet from going after her, but I wasn’t sure if my feet were acting in service of my dick or the strange feeling in my gut that wanted her to stay. Of course, “gut feelings” usually happened somewhere other than my heart, but I was going with gut feeling since it seemed simpler and easier to explain.
I caught up to her at the front door of the bar.
My hands wrapped around her waist, spun her around, pressed her back up against the door. She stared up at me, blue eyes sad and angry and shocked and confused and…sparking with lust as fierce as my own.
I kissed her.
It wasn’t a rough, demanding kiss, but it wasn’t some slow sappy wet thing, either. I kissed her like she was mine, like I had all the time in the world to kiss her thoroughly, like I’d spent a thousand nights and thousand days kissing her like this, my hands on her waist, pulling her against me now and pushing my body against hers.
God, she was soft.
Pliable.
Her tits were firm lumps squashed against my chest, her lips warm and damp on mine. She was perfect. She just fit. A moment of frozen disbelief, and then some other part of her took over, a part of her that wanted this kiss as bad as I did. Her mouth moved, then, her lips sliding on mine, tilting, gliding, wet on wet, and then I probed the seam of her mouth with my tongue and she opened for me, accepted my tongue and slashed hers against mine. I pulled her closer, and I knew there was no way she was missing the iron staff of my erection wedged between us. I tasted her tongue, and then felt her moan, heard it, tasted it. God, that moan. It sent fire into my veins.
Made my already pulsing cock throb all the harder.
Her hands drifted up as we kissed, one settling on my arm to stroke my biceps, tracing my ink, the other buried in my hair above my ear and gliding down to trace the outside of my ear—and Jesus fuck me that touch, the softest, gentlest, questing brush of her fingertips over my ear…what was it about it that made me so crazy? It drove me wild, made my chest buzz and my heart hammer and my cock pound and my throat emit a snarl as I scooped her up, carving my hands over her round, juicy ass and lifting her up, pulling her hard against me, shoving my zipper into the tight wedge of her thighs. I slammed her up against the door, and thank god it was locked, otherwise we would have gone toppling outside.
The kiss went wild, then.
As if she were starving. As if this kiss could sate some deep need inside her, as if she’d never been kissed like this. Which had to be a joke, because how could any man have a woman like this in his hands and not go wild? I felt like an animal, my libido gone primal, demanding I paw her clothes off and ravage her senseless, fuck her boneless, make her mine, leave my mark on her pale cream skin. I couldn’t stop. I was ravenous, monstrous, feral. My fingers clawed into her ass and my tongue slashed and tangled against hers and my hips drove against her core. She was whimpering, gasping against my mouth, moaning into my kiss, groaning into my lips.
I spun in place, walked three steps forward, and laid her down on a table, kicking chairs aside, my mouth never leaving hers. Her legs hooked around my waist, keeping me in place, firm against her denim-covered core. Didn’t stop me from grinding, from moving as if I were fucking her, as if I could feel her tight hot wet pussy through the denim. Much more of this, and I would be. I was hard enough to drive nails at that point, and grinding against her so hard I was in danger of spooging in my shorts like a damn teenager, but fuck if I cared. I needed her, needed more, couldn’t stop. Didn’t even try.
She was sober, and she wasn’t stopping me.
Hell, she was begging for more. Her mouth was wild on mine, kissing me back just as fiercely as I was kissing her.
I needed to fuck this woman.
My hands took over, took my train of thought and ran with it.
My hands left her ass and slid up her hips, pushed the cotton of her sweatshirt up to bare her belly, and then the sports bra. I broke the kiss, slid down her body to flick my tongue in her belly button, then kissed her stomach down toward the waist of the jeans, then back up to her diaphragm. Across her ribs just beneath the lower edge of the sports bra.
Fuck.
No way I could restrain myself, not now that I had my lips on her, not now that I’d gotten a double handful of that sweet ass of hers, and especially not now that I had her prone beneath me, her legs around my waist, her tits inches from my lips, just a bit of fabric between my mouth and her nipples.