Then, just as suddenly as it had started, he broke it off. I saw the competing desires written across his face, clear as day. "I can't," he said as he started to pull away.
I didn't let him go. "You have to," I replied.
Where had all this certainty and aggression in me come from? I'd never wanted anything as badly as I wanted him right then and there. One look at him and I knew he felt the same. It was so obvious that this had to happen. The electricity coursing through the air and between our skin, wherever it was touching, was insane and undeniable. I had no choice but to give in to it - to him.
I stretched up towards him, extending to the full height of my spine. It was just enough for my lips to touch tantalizingly against his once more. There was maybe a molecule of space left between us. I wanted it gone. We both did.
He slid his tongue past my teeth. It was warm and wet, hot and heavy in my mouth. I moved mine over and around it, meshing with him, our lips becoming one whole, a bridge from him to me. His hands were soft and delicate where they ran up my sides and cupped each breast in his hands. He tweaked my nipple slightly between finger and thumb, sending a shiver racing down my spine and coaxing yet another groan out of me.
I slid my mouth down to nuzzle against his neck, nipping and kissing the tanned surface of his skin. "Take me to bed," I whispered.
He didn't say a word. Instead, he scooped me up in his arms and kissed me as he walked out of the kitchen, across the living room, and into the dimly lit bedroom.
Croak dropped me onto the bed and was on top of me a moment later. His warmth emanated from him in delicious, delirious waves. I touched my fingertips to the sides of his face to feel the coarseness of his beard and the rigid muscles lining his jaw. They worked beneath my touch as he opened and closed his mouth in time with mine.
I moved my hands down to find the lower edge of his shirt and pull it over his head. He cast it aside, revealing a body that was even more magnificent than what I had been imagining. He was practically carved out of marble. Everywhere I touched was solid and unyielding. The contours of his muscles were like a playground for my fingertips as they moved up and down his roiling biceps and the plateaus of his abs. Strong, winding veins twisted across his forearms and chest. The downward sloping V of his lower torso was hard as rock. I could almost grip it in my palms.
I looked up at him in amazement. "You're a work of art," I said breathlessly.
"I'm a finger-painting compared to you, kid," he responded with utmost seriousness. His gaze fell to my body, which was the polar opposite of his grizzled, tattoo-stained exterior. Where he was scarred, I was smooth; where he was tanned, I was porcelain. I felt too delicate next to him, like he might shatter me with a single touch. But the way he traced his fingertip gently between the peaks of my breasts and down to my right hip, it was obvious that he could handle with care just as easily as he could break me completely.
He brought his other hand down from where he was using it to support himself above my head. Laying his palm flat on my upper chest, he slid it down along the same path his other had followed, spreading heat wherever he touched. Over my breasts, across my flat stomach, down to the zipper of my black leather pants. He slipped the button loose, worked the teeth of the zipper free, and carefully inserted his fingers on either side of my waist.
I could have laid there and watch his muscles work beneath the inky surface of his skin forever. It was a marvel to see how each of them twitched and flexed as he moved, how his biceps flared out when he quietly tugged the pants down my legs and off of me. He dropped them onto the floor and clambered back onto the bed.
My breath was coming in soft murmurs. He locked eyes with me, then lowered his mouth to my right knee. He deposited a gentle suggestion of a kiss on the inside of my thigh just above the knee, then turned his head and did the same on the left. Moving back to the right, he kissed a few inches higher. Again, to the left.
Croak moved back and forth up my thighs, leaving a trail of kisses that grew hotter and wider as he crept higher. Every advance shortened my breath by half, until he reached the lacy edge of my panties and I could barely breathe at all.
He looked up at me once more and paused, long enough for the air to somehow grow heavier around me. I felt like I was being pressed in from all sides and from within, like I would be crushed into a diamond or a black hole by the gravity of how badly I wanted him and how badly he wanted me in return. When he unraveled his tongue and licked over the fabric from the bottom to the top of my moist slit, I wasn't sure I'd survive.
He did it again, taking his time and making his tongue broad. I could feel its heat through the thin material, tantalizingly close to what I wanted so desperately. But it wasn't quite there yet. One last barrier to remove.
"Don't tease me anymore," I whispered.
He raised an eyebrow from where he was hunched between my legs. "You've got a long way to go until I let you come, princess," he said in a low growl.
All I could do was moan in response.
Croak whipped my panties down my legs and threw them aside. He pressed one palm flat on my stomach as he bit at the crease of my hip and then dragged his mouth over to engulf my hot pussy between his lips.
"Oh, Croak!" I gasped.
He sucked my clit in lightly between his lips, then released it with a wet lick. I groaned loudly and arched my back to urge my center up to his tongue. He laughed softly and pressed me down against the bed, stopping me from getting what I wanted.
"We're on my terms, now," he said. He reached a fingertip up and slid it into my tunnel. I squeezed my thighs involuntarily at the incredible sensation. It would take only the barest touch to make me come right now, but Croak seemed determined to drag things out as long as possible. He went achingly slowly, taking long seconds to push his finger all the way to the depths of me before pulling it back out. He kept his mouth hovering just above my clit the whole time. His hot breath rolled in and out as his finger delved and retreated.
He added a second finger when he entered again, and as he did, he pushed his lips against my clit and lapped at it with the very tip of his tongue. I felt myself clenching and writhing, already knocking at the door of coming, and he'd only just started touching me.
Who was this man? How did he know my body even better than I did? Each thing he did to me was exactly the thing I wanted, and he did it long before I had even realized it was the perfect thing to do.
I wove my fingers through his hair and gripped hard to anchor myself to reality as he started to piston his fingers inside me, curling at the end of each stroke to brush against my g-spot and add a deeper ripple to the earthquake prepping itself inside my cunt. My thighs were locked on other side of his head. He was pinned below me, and yet it was obvious that he was the one in charge. I would come when he wanted me to and not a moment sooner.
I just prayed that moment was soon.
Just when I thought I was as full as I could get, he added a third finger and redoubled the intensity of his licking. His head swung from side to side as he flailed his tongue in precise circles across my engorged clit. The third finger stretched me to my limits, but it was the last thing I needed to push me right up against the edge.
"Croak, please, please," I whimpered. Tiny tremors shook me from head to toe. My muscles were seizing in place. My whole body was ready to explode. The pressure was unbearable.
"What do you want?" he teased. "Tell me."
"You know."
"Say it."
"I can't."
"Say it!"
"I want to come," I panted.
"Then come," he allowed, and I did just that. I burst hard as he pulled his fingers out of me while keeping his mouth locked on my clit. He didn't lick anymore, but the steady pressure of his breath and lips was the only thing I needed to keep me pinned to the earth. I might have blacked out without it.
The pressure, the wrongness and the rightness of all this, was enough to make this the most intense orgasm I'd ever had. I lost track of the seconds as I moaned and convulsed while the electric flood of my climax tore through my body from head to toe. My toes curled and my hands nearly ripped Croak's hair out from his scalp.
Gradually, it ebbed bit by bit, but when the sparks had finally settled, I was left even hungrier than before. I needed more and I needed it now. Croak knew what I wanted. There was no time to wait or I might just collapse inward.
He shimmied out of his jeans and was on top of me instantly. I reached down and grasped his cock in my hands as my knees parted to allow his bulk closer to me. My jaw fell open as I gripped up and down his shaft and realized how unbelievably huge he was.
Doubt suddenly overtook me. "There's no way I can fit this," I whispered.
Croak grinned. "Take it slow, baby. One inch at a time."
My eyes were wide with uncertainty, but he was calm and centered. I trusted him implicitly without having a single damn reason in the world to do so. It just felt right. Besides, I couldn't delay the desire overtaking me right now.
"Slowly," I repeated dumbly.
"Slowly."
He aimed the head of his member at my slit and pushed it just barely inside. I laid my hands on his shoulders, closed my eyes, and gritted my teeth. Above me, I felt him start to rock forward in tiny increments. Every second brought him a little bit deeper into me. I had never opened myself up this much before, but to have a man who knew exactly what he was doing made it seem doable. I spread my legs and bit down on his forearm as he delved further and further.