I reached a hand down along with one of his, and together we guided the head of his erection over to my opening. I was completely ready for him.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
It seemed like a crazy question considering where our mouths had just been, but I guess he was just one of those guys who put the actual act of sex up on a different pedestal. “Yes, I’m sure,” I said between tongue-heavy kisses, certain I wasn’t risking anything. The cocktails probably had a lot to do with it, but I didn’t care one bit. The passion had overruled any ounce of common sense I might have had, which explained what this sexy stranger who I’d just met was doing in my room right now. “Just put it in me, please.” I was begging but I didn’t care. Shameless would be my new middle name.
At first, there was some resistance, my folds so heavy with passion they were blocking his entry. He reached down once more to move the tip around, guiding it in slowly with an expert hand.
I cried out, spreading my legs and pushing my hips forward, urging him to come in deeper.
“Mmmm, just be patient,” he said, a devilish smile forming under my kisses.
“I can’t,” I begged, “please.”
He slid into me just the slightest bit more and then pulled out, deftly avoiding my attempts at getting him to go in deeper.
“You’re teasing me,” I said, waiting breathlessly for his next move. I both loved and despised what he was doing to me.
He pushed the head in a little farther this time. Leaving it there for a few seconds, he moved his hips in a small circle and then pulled back again. It was like he was dipping into a honey pot or something, just getting a taste and giving a taste and then disappearing. It was maddening and delicious.
“You’re evil,” I said, putting my hands on his hips. I was prepared to do whatever necessary to get him to do this thing all the way, including forcing him down on top of me.
“Oh yeah? You really think so?” He pushed into me, stopping when he was halfway in. He pulsed himself in and out in short little strokes before pulling out again.
“Yes. I really, really think so,” I said, breathing fast as I anticipated his next move. I squirmed with anticipation, making myself mad with the not-knowing. Would this be it? Would this be the time he went in all the way, deep?
“Yesssss…,” I hissed out as he slowly buried his full length into me. It just kept going and going, making me think for a few crazy seconds that it wasn’t going to stop. I put my hands on his ass and pushed him in as far as he’d go, grinding myself into his lower abdomen and crying out with the sensations it created. Moving my hips in circles and bucking against him while he was buried inside me was what did it; it’s what started me on the road to nowhere and everywhere all at once.
He drew himself out with agonizing slowness and then began the tortue all over again, burying himself to the hilt and pausing for several seconds before pulling out again in a dizzying stroke of pure sex, pure animal need. Over and over, I pushed against him while pulling his rear end down, forcing him to go deep, to increase his rhythm and give me the friction I needed.
“You’re going to make me come if you keep doing that,” he said, gritting his teeth with the effort of holding back. “Holy sh … God, that feels so good.” He finished sentence almost out of breath. “How are you doing that?”
I had no idea what he was talking about. All I knew was that a monster tidal wave of an orgasm was headed my way, and I was fully prepared and looking forward to drowning in it. The alcohol should have made this impossible; it should have made me insensitive and numb, but it seemed to be having the opposite effect. Or maybe it was just him. I’d never been with a man so amazingly sexy in all my life.
His strokes came harder and stayed deeper. My sensitive nub took the pounding of his body with pleasure. I welcomed it, meeting his every thrust with one of my own. Our rhythm was wild, untamed, raw … a completely new experience in my carefully scripted life. His grunts and gasps of barely controlled excitement mirrored my own rising tide of passion.
“Oh, fuck, I’m going to come,” he said, sounding angry and carried away by his lack of control.
It was a combination of his loss of control and the sensation of being filled with him that did it to me. The sensations that had been building rushed me all at once, taking me completely by surprise. I started yelling, crying, and gasping, with zero control over what my body was doing. I dug my fingernails into his back, not paying attention to what I was doing to his skin. I just didn’t want to fall into the dark abyss that was calling out to me, worrying that once I was there, I’d never be able to get back. Mack would keep me safe. He’d keep me from drowning.