“Close your eyes,” he told her, and she trembled, but obeyed.
“They’re closed,” she whispered. She heard him open a condom, then there was a pause as he rolled it on. Off in the distance, a horn honked, and a car somewhere slammed on its brakes. A night breeze gusted by, kicking up her skirt even higher. She shivered from the momentary chill. Everything sounded and felt more intense with her eyes closed.
Especially the anticipation.
She waited for him.
For his next move.
His next touch.
His next order.
Then, she felt him, rubbing the head of his cock between her legs.
The first touch undid her. Like an unraveling. She wanted him so badly, so much, that her body was a beacon for him. She was aching to be filled. Mercilessly, he refused her wishes, her attempts to draw him in. He teased her. Taunted her. Giving her the barest taste of what his fantastic length would do this time. She couldn’t bear to wait any longer.
“Please,” she said, her voice a beg, and she didn’t fucking care.
“Please what?”
“Please fuck me.”
“How? How do you want me to fuck you?” he asked, buzzing his soft lips over her shoulder blade, as his hand moved up to her throat. He ran his thumb across her collarbone. Heat blasted through her. Like a powerful force of nature, swallowing her up, enveloping her in nothing but raw, unabated desire. He rubbed his steely length along her sex, hitting her clit once more. The world around her was black and fuzzy, noise and haze. There was only this. Pure physicality. Unadulterated need. “How?” he asked again, demanding an answer.
“Fuck me improperly,” she said, arching her back for him. “Fuck me now.”
“That’s right,” he said, his voice hot against her ear. “That’s exactly how I’m going to do it.”
Her breath caught in her chest and that moment felt like a stitch in time. As if everything in her life would be marked before or after. That was silly, she knew, to think of one night of sex as so goddamn monumental. But then, all thoughts drained away in one single thrust.
She inhaled sharply, and panted hard as he filled her so completely she wanted to sing out. She wanted to cry from the sheer ecstasy of the way he stretched her, driving deep inside her, opening her body to him.
“Give yourself to me.”
Instinctually, she knew what he wanted. Control. Complete control of her body, so she raised her ass higher, flattened her back more and handed over the keys to him. He thrust deeper and harder, and she cried out in pleasure. Soon, she could feel that tightening in her body, that climax just within reach.
Then he surprised her with his next words. “Don’t come,” he growled.
“What?” she asked, her body begging as she pushed back on him.
“Don’t come until I tell you I’m ready to let you,” he instructed, all while sliding deeper into her.
“But,” she protested, and her words were cut off by a hand over her mouth, a slowing of his rhythm, and his voice in her ear. Soft. A sharp contrast to how he held her. Imprisoned. “Let me take you there,” he whispered, his tongue flicking across her neck, punctuating his words. “I promise I’ll get you there. Just hold back.”
She breathed out hard, full of longing and untamed desire. But she chose to trust him. Though this kind of submission was foreign to her, she was willing. How could she be anything but willing, seeing as how she was fifty stories above Manhattan with her skirt hiked up her spine, and his hand over her mouth?
He slowed down, gliding into her in one long, torturously delicious thrust. Inch by inch, she felt his cock filling her all the way. Her walls clenched around him, hot and tight. She tried to wriggle against him but he shook his head, lowering his hand to her neck.
“No. Not yet,” he told her. “Tell me you can wait.”
“I can try.”
“Tell me you can do it.” His voice was rougher this time. There was no room for trying. There was only doing.
“I can.”
Another breath released, another shudder as he moved out, nearly leaving her pussy, where she desperately wanted him.
She moaned and reached her hand behind her, trying to gain some sort of control, to hold onto him. His hip. His leg. Anything. But he grasped her hand, clutching it tight as he drove into her yet again. Deeply, so deeply that she saw the edge of her climax coming into view. There. Close. So fucking close. If only he’d let her have it.
“Hold back,” he told her, as he fucked her harder, gripping her hand, as if the force with which he held her would keep her desperate orgasm at bay. “Don’t come yet.”
She couldn’t speak, could only whimper as she concentrated so fiercely on denying the quivering in her core, the molten heat coursing through her veins from the absolutely overwhelming way he took her. From the way he fucked her into such a state of wildness. “Please,” she begged as he took his hand from her throat and moved his fingers up the back of her neck, threading them through her hair.