If I Were You(56)

“But I want to,” I whisper and I haven’t meant anything quite so much in a very long time. My hands slide down his sides, his skin hot, over hard, taut muscle.

His mouth claims mine again, full of demands, and… warning? Maybe. Probably. It only makes me hotter, hungrier. I fight the urge to pull his hair. His hands travel my body, possessing me, and oh yes, I want to be possessed by this man.

“Lean back,” he orders, his hand on my waist, pressing me backwards until my hands are on the table behind me.

My breasts are high, thrust into the air, and his eyes are ravenous as they take me in. I gasp as he slides his fingers between my thighs, stroking me.

“So wet.” There is a rasp to his voice, a husky desire. “So hot.” He’s exploring me, teasing me, and oh yes, his finger slides inside me and I can barely breathe. This isn’t like before when I couldn’t see him. He’s staring at me, and I see the man, the passion, the glint of sexual prowess in his eyes that tells me I am out of my league, but I don’t want to be.

He leans forward and scrapes my nipple with his teeth and I realize this is more like before than I’d realized. I am once again captive. I cannot reach for him or I’ll fall. He slides another finger inside me and suckles my nipples to the point of near pain, erotic, wonderful pain. “Chris,” I pant, and I don’t know what I am asking.

“Do you remember when I said I was going to lick you all over, Sara?” he asks, nibbling a path between my breasts, leaving my wet, aching nipples throbbing with the need for his mouth.

“Yes,” I whisper. “Yes.”

He flicks my clit with his thumb, spreads the wetness over my ultra-sensitive flesh. “You want me to lick you here?” he asks, one hand sliding down to my stomach, the other working my body, pumping in and out of me.

My lashes flutter and I let my head fall back. “Look at me, Sara,” he demands, and there is a sharpness to the words that snaps my head up.

“Do you want me to lick you here?”

I’m too close. The edge of orgasm is on me. “Yes, but…I don’t…think I can take it. Not now.” I gasp as his fingers are suddenly gone and he’s lifting me. Before I can begin to clear the cobwebs I am on the couch and my legs are over his shoulders. His mouth closes down on me and warm pressure overtakes me. There is only sensation after sensation and I am already lost, spinning into orgasm. I try to stop myself but it’s impossible. This man, this glorious sexy, dark, intense man has his mouth on me in the most intimate of ways after telling me he was going to lick me all over. I cannot breathe and my entire body goes stiff before I jerk from the intensity of my body clenching. His fingers slide inside me, answering the need of my body, filling me.

A chill rushes over my body the instant I can catch my breath, cooling the fire on my skin. Chris follows it, enclosing me with his big body, and then he is kissing me. I can taste myself on him, salty and sweet, and I know this is his intent. And I know I’m not pushing him at all. I’m only going where he lets me. As if validating my thoughts, he moves, then is gone, leaving me wanting more. Controlling everything, controlling me.

He’s standing above me, taking off his boots, and my heart thunders in my chest to realize he is undressing. I sit up straight, watching him, my mouth dry with anticipation. His jeans are gone in a flash, and his underwear with them, or else he was commando. I don’t care. He is naked and hard and hot, his cock jutting forward, thick and heavily veined with arousal. For me. I want to touch him but before I can move, he turns and snatches his jeans, searching in his pocket and I hear the crinkle of paper, but it barely registers. I am spellbound by the man’s backside and I am still staring when he drops his pants and sits down next to me.

He hands me the condom, a silent challenge in his eyes. “Now I’m here. What are you going to do with me?”

Shifting to my knees, I wrap my fingers around the condom and blink at him. I am confused by the way he commands me when it comes to my pleasure, but he isn’t commanding me to do anything to him. I have been commanded, ordered to my knees, ordered to do things I didn’t want to do. I despised those moments in time and I wasn’t turned on. But Chris could order me to do just about anything and I believe I’d melt with pleasure. I want to do many things to this man, and I am wet and ache with the fantasies I’m wickedly conjuring in my mind.

I feel empowered, sexy. I like this feeling. My gaze lowers to his cock and then lifts. “Do you want me to put this on you now or do you want me to lick you there first?”