He leaned forward and licked me through my panties. “Oh God!” I cried out, my legs kicking in mid air. His tongue was exactly the right mix of firm and soft and the barrier of silky material meant that the contact was teasing.
He shifted his hands one at a time, palming the cheeks of my ass. He pushed my legs up and I bent them at the knees, sitting in mid-air with my back against the wall and my weight supported by his hands. Then he moved forward, burying his head between my thighs. He took long, slow licks at me, each one drawing the silky fabric across my lips and then releasing it. I groaned and reached for something—anything—to clutch at, and found his hair. I buried my fingers in his soft, dark locks.
He started to really work at me, then. He spread my legs open wide enough to make me gasp, then started to lick fast and steady, his nose rubbing over my clit on each stroke. My breath was coming in quick little pants, now. The fact I was hanging in mid air, pinned to the wall, made it even better. There was something about the feeling of being...handled so easily, the way he could just hold me there effortlessly.
The heat inside me began to circle and twist, whipping faster and faster around my frozen core. I felt alive, as if someone had pressed “play” on my life after three years on pause. My ass started to grind against the wall, my eyes fluttering closed. I could feel my panties getting wet, then soaking, as his tongue lashed over me again and again, the material clinging to my lips, taking on their shape.#p#分页标题#e#
He pushed deeper, teasing just inside me, and I groaned louder and jerked my hips forward to meet him. The panties were keeping me right on the edge, the heat inside me spinning at cyclone speed but not quite fast enough to release. I wanted them gone. I wanted to be naked against him and for him to be inside me. Another few seconds of his mouth and it felt as if the fabric would melt under our combined heat anyway.
Suddenly, he pulled me from the wall and carried me across the room, my head almost brushing the ceiling. He swung me down and I dropped onto the bed on my back, bouncing a little, my legs in the air.
He didn’t even let them come down. He caught my thighs and pushed them up and back, opening me, and dug in his pocket for a condom. He shoved his pants down to mid-thigh and pushed my soaked panties to the side, not even bothering to take them off. Then he was inside me, filling me in one long, hard thrust, and I arched my back and shuddered at the perfect, silken stretch of him, my hands finding his muscled shoulders.
We rolled back on the bed, him on top and my legs bent up between us, my feet high in the air. He pushed my shoulders down into the bed and started to fuck me with fast, brutal strokes and I felt the orgasm coming at me almost faster than I could handle. We were both almost fully dressed, almost decent apart from our naked groins and our desperate, open mouths as we kissed and broke and kissed again. My tongue was in his mouth as hard and urgently as he was inside me. I’d given myself up to him utterly. The fact I wanted it—wanted it at least as much as him—made me feel more helpless than any amount of him throwing me around.
The bed rocked and squeaked, despite its size. His physical power was breathtaking—I could feel the muscles of his shoulders bunching as he pounded me. The hard slap of his groin against me made me heady. I was even more open to him, like this, and I could feel him even deeper than before.
I ran my hands down over his back, tracing his muscles, marveling at the size of him. I half-opened my eyes and saw movement above him and had to do a double-take. I realized I was looking at our reflection. I’d forgotten about the mirror on the ceiling. Before, it had seemed tacky, like something you’d find in a Vegas hotel room. But now, looking at his muscled form, his hard, tanned ass rising and falling as he fucked the woman on the bed, I felt myself getting hotter and hotter. The sight of it—the reality of what I was doing—fought with everything I knew about myself. I can’t be doing this, I thought. This is not me. I’m not like this.
And then I looked up into those icy eyes and saw the raw lust in them, and I didn’t care anymore. I flexed my pelvis, pushing it up to meet him and cried out his name as the heat consumed me completely. I felt myself clutching at him, shuddering around him….
And then I heard him call out my name as he came, too.
Afterwards, as we lay side-by-side on the bed, he gazed at me, pushing the sweat-damp hair back off my forehead strand by strand. I could see the worry in his eyes. “What?” I asked.
“Tomorrow morning, you’ll meet my father.” He paused. “And there’ll be...business. My meeting.”