Desperate and needy, I gyrate against the pillow and alternately pant out commands and pleas. “Don’t stop. Please don't you ever stop.”
And he doesn’t. He’s relentless in his assault. It’s as if he doesn’t even need to breathe down there. His mouth is attached to me and his tongue is like a lash against my clit. Inside me, I can feel the drag of his calloused fingers against the swollen tissues of my inner walls. With each glide in and out, he rubs against the front flesh, causing my whole body to tighten. And then it’s faster, until the combined force of the suction of his mouth and the push of his fingers causes a cacophony of sound and light to explode in my head and I’m lost on delicious waves of feeling.
He does rise up behind me, but doesn’t move his fingers. He’s cupping me as if he’s trying to keep tendrils of my orgasm inside me for as long as possible.
“I want to fuck you bad, Tiny.” His husky voice raises goose bumps all over my body. “But I’m going to need at least eight hours of uninterrupted time.” The goose bumps turn to shivers.
Ian holds me, running his fingers over my back and down my arms and over the tops of my thighs, trying to soothe my shattered nerves. After a few moments of comfort, he rises from the bed with a slap on my ass. “Too bad we both have to work today.”
I roll over and watch him stretch next to the bed. His erection bobs right in front of me. The hard length of him is flushed an angry red.
“What about you?” Suddenly I want a taste. Scrambling up on my knees I lean over the edge of the bed and grab his arm. “You can't go out like that. Heart attacks will happen. Think of the elderly.”
He looks down at me with amusement but then presents his back to me. “Climb aboard, then, and you can take care of me in the shower.”
If pressed later about the decor of the bathroom, I'd have to say it was full of steam and tile. Ian spends most of the time kissing me while I stroke him with both hands. While his large hands cup my face, he caresses me with his mouth and tongue, showing me that I hadn't really been kissed before.
It’s not enough for me to hold him between my hands—his flesh pulsing against my palms. I want him in my mouth. I want to know the flavor and the smell, the girth and the length. I want to know it all.
This time he doesn’t stop me as I slide downward. The tile is warm from some underground heater, and the steam rises from the hot water that sluices around us. He drops a thick towel onto the tile and I slip it under my knees. Droplets drip down his hard abdomen and cling to the hair that surrounds his thick, heavy erection. The head arrows toward me and follows my tongue as I lick delicately at the top and the sides.
Ian’s hands come down to push my hair aside, and when I glance upward through my lashes, his eyes are heavy lidded and he’s breathing heavily. Finally, I take him into my mouth. He’s very thick and my lips are stretched to their fullest. One of his hands drops away from my hair to stroke my jaw and chin. Then he cups my face, holding me under my chin as he begins to shuttle in and out in short, shallow lengths.
“I can feel myself in your mouth,” he says above me. “I can feel my cock through your cheek. Your lips are stretched and you can barely take it, isn’t that right?”
I would’ve nodded but for the steady hand under my chin.
“If I touched you right now, how soaked would you be?” he asks. “Is all the moisture from the shower or are you so fucking wet right now that it is dripping down your thighs?”
The last few words are growled, and I can’t keep a moan from slipping out. Above my mouth his taut abdomen flexes as he pants and grapples for control. I grip his thighs for balance, my nails digging into his flesh.
“You look like a fucking goddess right now,” he continues. “Hotter than the desert sun in August. I want to come down your throat. Will you swallow it all?”
I nod, flicking my tongue against the bottom of his cock. He presses slowly to the back wall of my mouth. I gag and then swallow it down, feeling the cockhead swell in my throat.
“Open up for me,” he says, moving his fingers down to rub my neck as a little more of him eases down my tight throat. He hisses, “Jesus Christ, bunny. That’s so fucking good. So good.”
He withdraws, flexing his hips, and then slowly glides back in. This time it’s easier. I'm prepared for the fullness and hungry for his taste. This time he slides so far in that the coarse hair of his pubis tickles my nose. His hands are on either side of my face, tipping my hair back. I can feel my hot arousal trickling down my leg, a thicker, more viscous fluid than the water. I’m consuming him, eating his essence, taking him inside me in a way I had never envisioned possible.