“I’m not lying. I’ve seen you, the way you are with the twins. I would never lie about that. You’re a good man, Cassius.”
His eyes snap back to mine, white-hot, wide with surprise.
“Even if you act cold sometimes,” I add, smirking slightly.
Then I can’t say anything else, because he grabs my chin in his fingers and tilts my head up toward is. When our lips finally collide, it feels like the kind of kiss I’ve spent years waiting for. Hot and cold at once, all consuming.
He wraps his arms around me, hands on my hips, and I arch onto my tiptoes, kissing him back with everything I have. His tongue parts my lips, tastes me, and I breathe in his heady scent, unable to get enough.
“Manila,” he groans, and just like that, I’m a goner. He grips my ass, lifts me slightly to slide his feet under mine. We walk like that, me balanced on his feet, backwards out of the kitchen. “I need to fuck you,” he says, his voice low and guttural.
“Take me.” I look up at him, arms around his neck, feeling every inch of his sinuous body against mine, including his cock, thick and hard where it digs into my stomach. “Do whatever you want to me, Cassius, I want you.”
I think he’s headed toward the bedroom, but clearly neither of us can wait to make it that far. At the living room couch, he tosses me down backwards, then lies down over me, his hot mouth tracing down my neck, my chest, his hands sliding underneath my shirt. His teeth graze my collarbone lightly and my whole body shivers in response.
“God, you are fucking gorgeous, Manila,” he breathes.
I press my hands flat to his washboard abs and push his shirt up out of the way. He breaks contact with me for a second to yank it over his head and toss it aside, then he’s back, kissing and sucking at my neck, his tongue caressing my skin.
“Mm, and you taste amazing…”
I run my hands up to his shoulders, along the sides of his jaw to tilt his head toward mine. “I want to feel your body against mine,” I say.
He slides my shirt off, unclasps my bra almost before I have time to blink, and bends to flick his tongue across my nipples, one after the other. I arch my back and gasp, digging my nails into his bare back.
He growls softly at that, a low, animal sound, and slides back up to claim my mouth in a deep kiss again, his chest digging into mine. My nipples are hard as diamonds, rubbing against his solid, muscular body. I can’t stop running my hands along his back, his sides, his abs, savoring the feel of his muscular form. Fucking hell, he could be a GQ model with this body.
He grins down at me, knowing the effect he has on me, enjoying it. “I can’t wait to make you beg for me,” he whispers.
He’s touching me everywhere, his hands exploring every inch of me, like he’s trying to memorize me. His hands knead my breasts, circle my nipples, teasing, building my anticipation until every brush of his skin on mine makes me shiver.
“Cassius…”
Then he flattens his palm against my chest and slides his hand under the hem of my jeans. His fingers delve under my panties, circling my mound, as he kisses me again, harder. We both moan into the kiss, as his fingers inch ever closer to my clit, the red-hot center of my body. It feels swollen and heavy with want.
Like the torturer that he is, he slides right around my clit and parts my pussy lips with his fingers instead, trailing his fingers along my slit. I can feel how wet I am, and he grins, his lips smiling where they’re still pressed to mine. He pulls away just far enough to gaze down at me, eyes lidded with desire.
“You feel how wet you are?” he murmurs.
“For you,” I whisper, arching up to meet him. His cock digs into my hip, and I grind against him, desperate, needing him.
But I won’t beg. Not yet.
He pushes me back to the couch, smirking. “Ah, ah. You think I’m going to let you come that easily, my dirty little girl?”
I swallow hard. “Maybe?” I try, catching his eye with a spark in mine.
His grin widens. “Oh, Manila. We are only just getting started. I am going to drive you wild…” His finger circles my lips again, then up across my mound. Everywhere but my clit, everywhere but the throbbing pulse begging to be touched. Damn him.
I gasp faintly as he spreads my pussy lips wider, and slides one finger inside me, an inch at a time. “Yes, yes, right there…”
He stops halfway inside me and licks my lips. “Tell me, Manila, have you fantasized about me?”
“Yes,” I gasp, my back arching.
His finger slides deeper inside me, all the way in. “Good. Because I have fantasized about you, too. All night. All day.” He nips my neck, just hard enough for a pleasant sting of pain.